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candychronicles · 3 years

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bodyguard // s. todoroki

A/N: my take on the rockstar/band/performer au for bnharem! i’m not a big fan of au’s normally but this one was a lot of fun to write! todoroki is definitely ooc in this one but i took a lot of liberties with his character in order to better fit the au storyline.

CHARACTER PAIRING: Todoroki Shouto x F!Reader

WORD COUNT: 5,091

WARNINGS: mentions of blood, gore, fighting, death, oral sex (f!receiving)

SYNOPSIS: you were in it for the money, he was an unhinged popstar. how could you two ever possibly get along?

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the days at work were tiring, the nights even longer, but the pay was good and it was always satisfying to make a grown man cry as you knocked him to his knees and manhandled him away from your client.

Todoroki Shouto, one of the elite, the famed, the rich, and absolutely fucking annoying. sure, he was hot (anyone with an eye could see that) but he was just like everyone else in his industry: a cocky bastard. you didn’t mind his lifestyle too much except when it interfered with his job, like having to pry off whiny people who clung to him like their life depended on it, and for some, it probably did.

his biggest claim to fame was being in a now wildly famous band, namely the main singer. he was charming with a sultry voice and a personality that oozed confidence but he wasn’t always that way. in fact, he was originally a shy, anxiety ridden teen when he first joined, not sure how to use his voice or deal with people coming up to him in the streets. the life he lived was sheltered before that, training under his dad to take over the family business, but when sweet, innocent Todoroki confessed that he much rather be artsy and sing at the age of sixteen, things quickly changed for him. his father, Todoroki Enji, tried to convince him otherwise, told him that he didn’t know how the real world worked and that he would never be successful, but Shouto wouldn’t budge and eventually Enji caved in, or so it seemed.

Enji immediately enrolled Shouto in lessons, instructing him to shape up or ship out. if he couldn’t become successful in the industry, he would take over his father’s business instead, but that didn’t happen. Shouto excelled in lessons, blowing his instructors away with his timbre and control. he was a natural, and frankly, good enough to be a star. they weren’t so concerned with his stoic yet endearing personality. they had broken enough pop stars, molded them to be perfect model citizens, so what was one more?

the plan backfired immensely. as Shouto’s talent grew, Enji seeked out the biggest in the game, convincing them to give his son a chance at stardom. while reluctant, the board agreed, not wanting to piss off one of the most powerful men in Japan but were thoroughly surprised at the fact that his kid didn’t suck at all. in fact, he was actually good, really, really good.

they signed him immediately, whisking him away into the life of fame and fortune at the young age of seventeen. his range, the slight rasp to his tone and the ability to reach into somebody's soul and pluck the very feelings they try to hide so deeply from it’s depths pushed him towards the life of a rockstar. the freedom he had never been able to experience living at home pushed him over the edge and spiraled him out of control.

Todoroki drank, smoked, and fucked his way through cities big and small, getting himself into a lot of trouble along the way. the behavior went on for years, only getting worse as time went on. nobody seemed to be able to get control over the boy with the pretty hair and wild scar. after almost killing several women and one of his bandmates in a drunk driving accident, his team, label, and most importantly his father had enough.

the conversation between the two did not go well. Shouto was now an adult, legally free and clear from his father’s power. he had his own money, enough to live comfortably for awhile, even if he dropped the band, and all of the repressed rage, longing and anger that was pent up from his childhood. he was not stopping his lifestyle for anyone. that was, until you came along.

you were always a scrapper, getting yourself in trouble more times than you could count. it was just in your nature to defend those who couldn’t defend themselves and you spent many days on the playground beating up the bullies who picked on the sweet girl braiding flowers into her hair, or the boy who liked to play with baby dolls instead of trucks.

as you got older, your fights got fewer and farther in between, at least when it came to the public.

when you turned sixteen and kicked some kid who was trying to look up your skirt so hard in the chin that he saw stars, you were approached by a few men who slid you a card and told you if you wanted to make money fighting, come meet them.

you were a dumb kid and instead of running in the opposite direction and telling the police, you showed up at the seemingly dingy door behind the alley of a fairly run down ramen restaurant. knocking on the door and rocking back on your heels, you waited to see what would happen. it took a few seconds before a panel slid open, allowing you to see nothing but someone’s eyes peering at you in the mid-afternoon sun. hesitantly, you raised the business card in your hand, showing it to the person and jumping in surprise as the panel slammed shut and the door creaked open, inviting you in.

you nodded your head politely at who you realized was a rather bulky, burly man, before a woman dressed in a silky black dress plucked the card delicately from your hand and led you through the hallway. when she opened the door, you were taken aback by the scene.

people of all shapes and sizes stood cheering as two rather muscular men fought in an arena across the room. spit and blood flew across the floor as the two pummeled each other over and over again before one tapped out, the other man raising his fist in the air in victory. you stood, gaze fixed on the scene in front of you, blood racing at the thought of you being in the ring.

“addicting, isn’t it?” the woman whispered in your ear, a knowing smile on her face before she gently took you by the sleeve and guided you away from the screams and shouts into a private room that was much quieter.

you sat down in front of a man who was rather tall and thin, graying hair across his head and a clean shaven face.

“so, i heard you’re a good fighter. how good do you think you are?”

“uh-” you stuttered, not sure how to respond, “i think i can kick someone’s ass if i have a reason to.”

“is money a good enough reason for you?”

“money is a nice reward, yeah, yeah it is,” you confirmed, not pondering the question over for a second.

“good, you start on Saturday. come in comfy clothes that you won’t mind getting sweaty and dirty in. you’re my new ace, a secret weapon. give it six months time and you’ll be defeating guys like that out there in seconds.”

and defeat you did. over and over again, men, women, anyone who thought they were better than you were defeated by your own fists. you worked hard and then some, through literal sweat, blood and tears, to reach the status of champion of the underworld by the age of eighteen.

you were a wild card, unpredictable in your stature. you didn’t have hulking muscles and a sturdy frame, but what you did have was speed, the element of surprise, and the ability to calculate in a split second, all of which allowed you to defeat your enemies time and time again. this relative victory didn’t come without your share of sacrifices: hiding the bruises, blackened eyes and bloody lips from your family as you trained relentlessly, having to figure out a way to manage the steady flow of income that started coming your way as you fought in your first official matches, defeat after defeat as you trained, chipping a tooth and having it promptly filled in like nothing happened, having to learn how to disarm and fire a gun, work with knives and most importantly, losing a bit of your empathy along the way.

it came as no surprise when people who were much more powerful and much, much richer started taking an interest in you, placing large bets upon your head at some of the higher staked matches, a feat you worked your way up to after many years. you never failed to disappoint, knowing that these fights were the ones that mattered the most, the ones that brought you, and your boss, the biggest pools of money.

it was at one of these fights on a dreary, rainy night that you met Todoroki Enji, a hulking man that failed to intimidate you. you were used to people his size and bigger thinking he could take advantage of someone like you and it only made you chuckle thinking of how easy it would be to have him on his knees in seconds.

“i’ve made a proposal to your boss that he couldn’t refuse. he said he couldn’t and wouldn’t force you to do anything, but since you’re quite motivated by money, i think you’ll be intrigued by my offer,” he started, sitting down next to you in one of the VIP booths, sliding his business card on the table with a sly smile.

you were interested and entertained him, listening to him ramble about his shitty kid and his bad behavior. amused, you sipped on your drink as you absorbed his rants and whines about the negative reputation his kid was creating for himself, how he abused his freedom and power to the fullest extent and how his life was spiraling out of control.

“what does this have to do with me, exactly?” you finally questioned, setting your drink down and turning to face him, eyes met squarely with his own.

“i’d like to hire you to be his personal bodyguard.”

“sounds like he needs a babysitter, not a bodyguard,” you retorted, getting ready to stand up and move away from this blathering idiot.

when he spit out a number so outrageous, however, you sat back down, now thoroughly intrigued by the situation at hand. satisfied that he had your full attention, he went into details, laying down a fairly thin stack of papers in front of you as you listened to every detail.

“so let me get this straight. i’m to be his personal bodyguard, keep his shitty behavior a little more under control, whip him up into shape sort of situation. that’s it? and i’ll get paid that much for being a glorified babysitter?”

“you will have to protect him, of course. there are some crazy fans out there that climb windows, seduce themselves into his bed, stalk him, chase him down, but i don’t think it’s anything that, with your expertise, you can’t handle.”

you continued to ponder the situation before gesturing him to continue with his story. he rambled for another moment or two before picking up the papers and going over them with you: standard non-disclosure agreements, a detailed list of your job description and a contract agreement that he was subleasing you through your boss.

after a few minutes of reading the contracts over and discussing them with your boss, you agreed to the scenario, locking yourself into what would be a rather entertaining six months.

the first time you met Todoroki, he instantly tried to hit on you, but when his hand lowered down to grab your ass, you had him on his knees with his left hand behind his back before he could even blink. after that encounter, your conversations were curt. he knew what you were here for and he wasn’t about to let you get his way.

what he wasn’t expecting was for you to be so relaxed about the whole situation. he still drank, still partied, fucked almost whatever girl or guy he wanted, but anytime things got too out of hand, you stepped in, firm but gentle, guiding the crying groupies out of his bedroom after their time was over, driving him every time he got too drunk, cutting him off from any supplies when he was getting out of hand and most importantly, keeping him safe during his travels.

he never realized how much danger he was always in until you mitigated the problems with ease. he just assumed that being assaulted on the daily was something that came with being in the public until you broke some robbers finger when they tried to swipe the wallet out of his own back pocket. after that, he almost clung to you like a koala on a tree anytime he was out in public. you provided stability in a time where he was drowning in his own worries.

that didn’t mean he was ever nice to you though. in reality, he was actually sometimes meaner to you, the simple fact that some girl could be stronger than him set him off, always feeling on edge around you. you weren’t necessarily quiet, offering up any and all small bits and pieces about yourself that he ever wanted to know, but he never really knew you: not your last name, where you were from, if you had any siblings, parents, where you went to school, what your job was, who you were on the inside. it bugged him like crazy to know what your favorite color was and that you liked cheese on your ramen but not anything important, anything he wanted to know.

you liked to keep it that way, however, and would stay as friendly yet aloof as possible. this was a job to you, a job that would set you up easy for awhile and gave you a break from fighting for the most part. you wouldn’t admit to yourself that you liked the man more than you would’ve expected. you felt the way he clung to you as fans swarmed him, the way he always looked to you in reassurance as you walked the streets at night, hearing his sobs in the shower, sobs that were so broken and confused. it showed to you a side of him that was vulnerable, that showed emotion.

he broke down towards the end of your stay, realizing a little too late how much easier it was for you to do your job when he was cooperative and nice. in fact, he began to be more open about enjoying your company and spending time with you. it made it harder for you to continue with your job knowing you were falling for the pretty rich boy, for the man you were hired to protect, for the man who looked at you like you could do no wrong but vehemently would deny it. you began enjoying the little moments with him, the stolen glances, the laughing. you didn’t know what changed in him but you were glad he was someone you could get along with. underneath that crazy exterior, he was just a guy who wanted a friend.

your six months came up relatively quickly. it sucked that your cushy job living in five star hotels, eating decadent meals and working out in state of the art facilities would be over soon but you felt yourself getting lazy, weak and losing your rather sharp edge. it was time to get back into the grind and despite your heart panging at the fact that you would leave the pretty boy with the angry and sad heart behind, you were ready to go.

your last night of work consisted of the final show in Tokyo. tens of thousands of guests were set to attend what would be the bands biggest concert ever. you were calm, cool and collected as always, but the singer, not so much.

he spent the day pacing back and forth, warming up his vocals, hydrating himself, stretching and generally doing his best to calm his nerves.

in a rare act of affection, you reached out to grab your hand with his own, looking him dead in the eye and telling him that this night would be one he would remember forever; and you were right, just not for the way either of you thought.

the show went amazing, the crowd loud and receptive, the choreography flawless, the singing perfect. Todoroki ran off stage with the biggest smile he had ever seen and in his own rare display of affection, twirled you around with ease, adrenaline still pumping through his system.

you congratulated him on the great show and waited patiently for him to remove all the makeup and his costume. he emerged a little while later, hair flat against his head, wet from the shower, sweatpants and an inconspicuous gray hoodie donning his body. you bid a pleasant farewell to his bandmates before escorting him back to the car. he had requested that you drive him back to the hotel and spend one final night in the comfortable hotel beds before you headed back to your hometown.

when you arrived, however, things felt quiet, a little too quiet, and the hair stood up on the back of your neck.

“Shouto, you need to get into the driver’s seat right now, turn on the car and lock it. do not let me in until i tell you to. do not get out of the car, okay?”

he began to question you but before he had a chance to argue, you were pushing him out of the way as a knife sliced towards him, figures cloaked in black emerging from the shadows.

one, two, three, four.

you counted out the four assailants as you shoved Shouto against the car, prompting him to unlock and scramble in through the back seat. only when you heard the click of the lock did you breathe a sigh of relief and begin your attack.

the first man with the knife was tall and lanky, using his height to his advantage, trying to overwhelm you, but with a quick kick to the back of his kneecaps, he went tumbling onto his knees. now shorter than you, you were able to control him by grabbing onto the top of his head and slamming it into the ground, effectively knocking him out.

one, two, three.

the next man thought his muscles would save the day, but his size lacked any true speed, and you were able to land fingers to his eyes, a punch square to his nose. a quick chokehold and he was knocked out against the concrete as well.

one, two.

they both came at once, knives flailing in the air as they sliced your way. one managed to gouge out a chunk of flesh in your arm but you paid no mind, too focused on the task at hand as you grabbed the knife with your hand and used the other arm to knock into their elbow, making them loosen their grip enough to let go of the blade that you then embedded into their shoulder. the other assailant took your distraction to swing the knife your way and as you were trying to dodge the serrated edge, used their other fist to swing up into your chin. you felt your teeth chatter against each other, blood mixing with saliva as you bit your tongue. spitting, you slammed your hand down against their wrist, grabbing the knife with your hand and yanking, not caring that it sliced into your palm as you flipped the weapon around to shove it into their abdomen.

with both men distracted, you slammed your fist against the car door, telling Shouto to quickly unlock it so you could get in. when you heard the telltale click, you instantly dove into the backseat, yelling at him to lock it and drive as fast as he could back to the hotel. he did as he was told with an eerie calmness to him, backing out and around the attackers that were attempting to survey the damage that had been dealt to them.

once you had made the relatively quick trip back to the hotel, you hurriedly jumped out of the car, telling Shouto to carry his own bags so you could be on alert if anything were to happen, scanning each and every corner for a possible other attack. thankfully, everything was safe as you made your way into his hotel room.

you dropped him off quietly, not even attempting to walk into his room, but only fifteen minutes had passed before he was knocking on your door, a first aid kit he had gotten from the front desk securely tucked under his arm.

you let him in without a word, locking the door behind you and turning to face him. before you had a chance to ask what he was doing there, he had dragged you into your rather grandiose bathroom, sitting you on the steps leading up to the jacuzzi tub and pulling out the contents of the kit onto the floor.

he began by assessing the damage to your wounds, cleaning and disinfecting them before wrapping both your hand and arm rather efficiently.

“i had to wrap a lot of my own wounds as well as my siblings. dear old dad let the temper get the best of him sometimes and it wasn’t always so pretty,” he explained, teeth clenching together in an attempt to remain calm.

“thanks for this. i’m sure they’ll heal just fine,” you replied, not wanting to put him in a situation where he had to talk about his troubling past.

“you could’ve died protecting me today, you know?”

“that’s my job Todoroki. i was hired to protect you, i protected you, and i’m fine, thank you very much. this is not my first fight and it definitely won’t be my last.”

he sighed, rubbing his temples as he sat down on the marble floor in front of you, holding your wounded hand in his own, tracing the fabric that surrounded your palm.

“i recognized one of the cars in the parking lot. it was a company car, one of my dad’s cars to be precise. i know they can seem relatively inconspicuous but i memorized every car my dad ever had, big or small. it was definitely his car.”

you mulled over his words for a moment before sighing yourself, slumping against the stairs as your head rested against the rim of the tub.

“your dad sent those men, huh? that’s why you were so eerily calm driving away. you knew you weren’t really in any danger, that those men were secretly there to kill me,” you finally concluded, anger boiling deep within the pit of your stomach.

“yeah, i think they were. i don’t think dad is too fond of the fact that you and i got close. i-i like you a lot more than i let on, i’ve told him so. i thought that would make him happy, knowing i have someone in my life that i could rely on and trust, but he didn’t like the fact that he couldn’t control you after these six months were up, think he wanted to teach me a lesson.”

“wouldn’t be the first time i’ve had a hit out on my head. this one, however, is probably going to be a lot tricker to deal with.”

Shouto sunk deeper into himself, body shaking with rage as he saw the fight flash in his head over and over again.

“i’m going to protect you. if you want to, that is. i’ll sign you on as my own bodyguard, however much money you want. i’ll be by your side always, make sure that nobody tries to kill you, tries to hurt you like that again.”

“i can fend for myself Todoroki.”

“it’s Shouto. and why won’t you let anyone else take care of you? listen, i know i’ve been kind of an ass but i thought we were at least friends, and yet i know nothing about you. i know your favorite color, your favorite animal, that you like sunsets and the rain and snuggling under comfy sheets at the end of the day, that your eyes sparkle when you get a chance to fight but secretly crave peace and comfort, but i don’t know who you are. your name, your story, why you’re really here.”

you heaved as you sat back up, staring him straight in the eye to find no malice, no anger, only confusion, empathy and maybe even a bit of longing. so you told him, you told him everything: who you were, what you were, where you grew up, about your childhood dog and all the scraps you had as a kid, how two strange men in suits approached you and groomed you to fight at the age of sixteen, how it was the only thing you knew how to do, the only thing you were good at, how you scared yourself sometimes because you enjoyed the pain that came with the fights. he sat there watching, eyes wide and unblinking as he absorbed every word you said, every bit of pain and anxiety, of longing for someone to love and understand you, of not having to fight all the time, of wanting to be vulnerable for once.

“let me take care of you,” he declared, standing up and outstretching his hand towards you, helping you up from the cool tile, hand coming to rest behind your head once you had steadied yourself.

he leaned forward, unsure and hesitant, before placing his lips against your own, soft and gentle, tasting of mint chapstick and coffee. you were unsure of yourself, awkward, full of aches and pains, wanting so badly to let go but never wanting to get hurt.

“it’s okay, you’re safe with me. let me take care of you, please.”

that was all it took for you to open up, looping your arms around his neck as he led you back to the bedroom, careful to not run you into anything. your knees hit the back of the bed and you reflexively tensed up, like a deer in headlights.

he shushed you, rubbing his hands up and down your arms, heeding the bandage and wound underneath. you laid back after that, body attempting to relax as his hands ran themselves soothingly over your body, across your breasts, the flesh of your stomach, your thighs, the corded muscles in your calves, slipping your shoes off, your socks, kissing every inch of your body along the way, making sure you were comfortable. you shimmied out of your pants, your tight shirt, bra, underwear, finally bare for him to see, scars, bruises, all the imperfections of your life.

“so, so beautiful,” he murmured, taking his time to kiss every single blemish and scar that you had, wanting you to feel his dedication.

after what felt like hours of soft kisses, his thumb came to rest on your clit, rubbing in quick and precise circles, fingers gently parting your folds to press into your body, back arching at the feeling of him already.

“it’s all about you tonight, okay? just relax, let me show you how much i appreciate you.”

and appreciate you he did. he dropped to his knees, nose nuzzling into your pubic bone as he kitten licked your clit once, twice, three times, testing your reaction. you whined and squirmed at the feeling, already overwhelmed by his fingers lazily dragging in and out of you. you wanted, needed more, but Todoroki wouldn’t hear any of that. you deserved to be treated right, treated gently tonight, to allow your worries to melt away, if only for a few moments.

his fingers began picking up pace, pistoning in and out of you, his fingers curling in all the right spots, fists clenched into the downy comforter as you attempted to ground yourself from the overwhelming situation. his tongue worked against your clit, changing speed and pressure, trying to find what was the right combination to set you off, watching your every move intently as you squirmed around on the bed. before he even got a chance to get into a routine, you were already cumming over his fingers, creamy liquid coating the digits.

he hummed in contentment, pulling his fingers out to lick up the syrup, you watching with your pupils blown wide.

you went to sit up, body aching from the adrenaline of the fight, but he pushed you back down into the plush bed, tutting as he settled his head against your thigh, kissing, sucking and biting along the plump flesh, leaving little marks only he would know about.

his tongue began lapping at your clit again, this time harsher, more in tune with what your body wanted. you clenched your legs around his head, fisting his hair with your good hand as you tried to ground yourself yet again to reality. his velvety tongue felt like heaven against your body, coaxing moans and sighs out of your mouth. you felt your second orgasm hit you like a freight truck, tingles running up your spine. you tried to push his head away but he only held your body down, a frighteningly feral look on his face as he continued to lap against your clit, unrelenting in his pursuit to pull orgasm after orgasm from you.

after, two, three, four more highs, you couldn’t tell where one began and one ended, he was finally satisfied, pulling his face away, chin glistening in the dim light. your eyes were teary and red, overwhelmed by everything he had put you through. you had never been more satisfied in your life, and by the look on Shouto’s face, he knew it too.

your eyelids began to droop and your body relaxed into the mattress as you came back down into reality. Shouto shuffled around the room before settling you into your bed, tucking the sheets around your body and propping your head against your pillow.

he was enamored by your, by your story, how you opened up so willingly to him after tonight. nothing would get in between you two now. he was just starting to truly know you, know the real you, and nothing was going to stop him from wooing you until you were his, not even his father., and if her life was ever threatened again by him, well, Shouto would just have to kill Todoroki Enji.

#todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki #shouto todoroki #bnha x reader #mha x reader #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha #bnha #bnharem collab

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burnedbyshoto · 3 years

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shinsou and the very terrible, horrible, no good, very bad shift

— You, a new sidekick, screw up a case for a Pro Hero Shinsou, and he demands compensation.

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pairing: older!shinsou hitoshi x younger fem!reader

warnings: age gap (shinsou 25, reader 18), nsfw, 18+, pwp, DEGRADATION, power imbalance, spanking, marking, cursing, shinsou is a major asshole, mindbreak, sorta subspace, happy ending for shinsou, depending on person unhappy ending for reader, public sex, dubcon because of power imbalance

word count: 3,892

a/n: happy halloween. this is mean degradation imo like I thought ive done degradation but this made all those look like praise kink. be careful and click out if its too much

kinktober day 20 main kink: degradation | kinktober masterlist

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How you ever forgot that as a high school hero-in-training student, you were a big fish in a tiny pond was beyond you. Well, to be quite honest, you never thought yourself to be a big fish, to begin with.

You were eighteen, a few months from turning nineteen and had just graduated from the hero course over at UA. That in itself was a huge accomplishment, one that you should take with bubbling pride and joy, but to be quite honest, having such a big name attached to you only made you nervous. To tell the truth, you often wondered just why a hero within the top 50 even scouted you to work as an intern with them and then offer you a position as a sidekick as soon as you entered your third year. Still, it seemed to be a common predicament with BMI Hero: FatGum.

Today was your first day on the job, no longer a student part of a hero work-study, but as a physical, government paid hero — a fickle sidekick! You shuddered as you slipped on the shoes to your outfit, your teeth gnawing at your bottom lip as you made your way out of the locker room, ready to report to your first assignment.

FatGum agency was quite a lovely place, loud and warm, being the first two adjectives you thought of when you first joined their ranks. It did wonders for your self-esteem, and seeing newly turned Pro Hero Suneater, who apparently was a million times more of a nervous mess than you were, made you feel oddly in good hands.

But still, nothing could keep you from the shock that ran through your body when FatGum proudly thrust forward a patrol route for you to follow.

“Alright, pipsqueak,” FatGum jovially spoke, his eyes closed while he smiled. “This is your route for the day! It should take about an hour to get through unless anything happens! You’ll go on the route every three hours, and in between those patrols, it’s the same paper system as before! Good luck out there, y/h/n, you got this!”

“Oh my god, no, I do not?!” you spluttered, hands shaking wildly as you went through the folder Fat had so quickly presented. “What if I die?!”

“You’ll be fine. Remember how Deku and Ground Zero complimented you the other day?”

“Yeah!” you exclaim, your face burning with your shame as you remembered that confrontation. “But that only happened because Deku is a living saint, and I spilled my noodles all over him and Ground Zero! Ground Zero was also, by the way, forced to compliment me by Deku! And all he said was that my combat skills were absolutely shitty but not as shitty as he thought they would be!”

“Ah yes, I remember Red Riot discussing how his friend was less than inept at expressing his gratitude,” FatGum hummed in memory, although that dumb, proud smile never left his face. “If I remember correctly, that means he has great respect for you!”

You made a dying noise at the back of your throat.

“But Deku doesn’t lie! He speaks honestly, so all his compliments were definitely true. Now, y/h/n, let's get through this day together, ne?”

You didn’t agree, but that wouldn’t stop him from throwing you out to the streets, your heart hammering in your throat as you walked through the path he used to take you on every day. Your smile was shaky and wobbly as the people you recognized waved and cheered you on. They were all excited to see you on your own.

However, they did point out that you were here an entire hour earlier than usual, but hey! That’s what happened when you went from being a student to trying to function as an adult!

“You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay,” you chanted as you passed by the spookiest alleyway on your patrol.

The hour-long patrol was almost done if your watch wasn’t lying to you: a full patrol and not a single instance of needing to help. Well, you had assisted some people in carrying groceries and holding a child as a mother shopped for dinner that night, but there were no altercations, nothing out of the ordinary.

You marched through the alleyway, your fists in a shaky clenched grip as cold, nervous sweat dripped down your neck.

You were okay, you are okay, you will be okay.

“Nothing to be afraid of! Just a normal, average, no villains insight day!” you spoke to yourself, your body shaking as you pass an opening in the alleyway, and you turn your head to look and freeze.

“Alright, and I don’t want fucking nobody hearing goddamn shit about this drug, got it?!” a man with a quirk that made him look like a blowfish snapped.

Six men stood in the alleyway, all with tall, massive, threatening vibes. You didn’t make a single noise; you knew that for a fact, but their gazes still fell on you the moment the man stopped speaking. A horrible, stupid movie cliche that happened too often in hero life.

Your life probably flashed before your eyes at that single moment, your body and mind instinctively moving to call the heroes before realizing that you were the hero now. What do you do?! What could you do?! Drugs?! Did they have drugs?!

Panicking greatly, you watched their mouths move, but you couldn’t hear them as you took in their faces in a blur. Before you knew it, your mind shut down, and your body took over. You weren’t sure what it was. If you were way stronger than the entire group or if you just had an untapped potential that burst open right now, because you blinked and suddenly there were all thrown onto the floor, busted and bloody and tied up.

You… you did it?!

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed, your hands rising to your mouth as you looked at each and every one of their smushed, dirty faces. “I WON?! I won, oh my god, I won — wait?!”

You stepped over to the purple-haired man on the floor, his mouth stuffed with a cloth fabric you probably shoved in there at some point.

“M-Mindjack-sensei?!” you cried, your excitement of betting this drug handoff simmering off immediately. “W-What are you doing? Were you gonna stop this drug handoff? I — oh my god, let me get this off!” You scrambled to get the restraints off of Shinsou, unaware of the way the other captured men glared at Shinsou, utterly shocked and betrayed as you cleared him.

“Thank you for the capture, y/h/n!” a police officer congratulated you as you freed Shinsou, and you smiled, nodding your head. “Is it just four of them?”

You froze.

You had counted six men at first, and with Shinsou recovered, that made five men.

“I didn’t… I lost one of them?” you deflated, all sense of confidence draining you as Shinsou remained on the floor.

“Ah,” the police officer grimaced, his head shaking before he paused and looked up at you with a halfhearted smile. “Well, you still did good work! We’ll see what drug they were talking about, and if it’s nothing too crazy, they’ll be good to go!”

“Yeah, of course,” you smile weakly, feeling ready to cry as you hold onto your wrist.

“But, uh, who’s the guy on the ground?” he nodded towards Shinsou, who was looking entirely pissed off and ready to bite like some cornered, raging animal.

“Oh, Mindjack!” you respond, hands motioning toward one of the other older Pro Heroes you looked up to.

The police officer stared at Shinsou, an unconvinced look on his face.

“I thought he was… ah, well, old? And didn’t he have black hair?” he muttered before shrugging. You didn’t manage to stutter out your knowledge of the older man with black hair being Eraserhead because he was long gone already, fingers pressed to his radio, chatting with his HQ.

Breathing out a nervous sigh, you turned to Shinsou with a shy and fully apologetic smile. “I am so sorry for hurting you! Are you okay?” you asked, your eyes scanning the older heroes' stance, unable to read anything but annoyance radiating from his body.

“No, I’m not okay, actually,” Shinsou spat, his face finally looking up from the floor, and you felt your throat run thick at the rage and anger simmering from his face.

“W-Wha—” you stammer, taking a step back, overwhelmed.

“You just fucking ruined six months of undercover work,” he seethed, his feet moving to stalk towards you. You found yourself stumbling backward, looking everywhere but at him. You can feel your balance giving; the cold filth of the alleyway wall your saving grace as his fingers grabbed your jaw, forcing you to face him. His purple eyes black in his fury. “I don’t think you realized just how badly you fucked up?! You stupid fucking child!”

A wash of ice-cold realization flooded through you, the horror of what you knew you just did completely dawning on you as tears sprung in your eyes. You felt nauseous, utterly sick to your stomach because this seasoned Pro Hero definitely had shit to do, and you practically shat all over it.

“I am so sorry,” you whimper, pain shooting through you just slightly at the grip he has on your chin. “I am so so sorry, i-is there anything that I c-can do?! How can I-I fix it?!”

“You think I need help from some crybaby?” Shinsou snapped, thoroughly unimpressed by you, his eyes narrowing further. You didn’t even realize you were crying already.

“I-I’m useful, I promise!” you cry a bit more, your body struggling as the older hero trapped you against the wall, his face glowering down at you with the intensity of a million suns. “I-I’m a sidekick over a-at Fatgum’s agency, but, oh fuck, I’m so sorry! I’ll do anything you ask of me!”

There’s a looming silence, a heavy tension as his eyes drop from your eyes to your parted wet lips. He’s much taller than you, and you can feel every heavy breath expelling on your face.

“You think a pathetic, worthless little sidekick is able to do anything for me?” Shinsou snapped, his eyes narrowing as he loomed even closer. “A pathetic fucking bitch like you? I don’t think you can give me even a simple fucking action that would prove your worth.”

The words are hot embers on your ears, making your jaw drop, and your body trembles at the simple degradation. You feel your tears hot on your cheeks, your parted lips invaded by his dirt-covered fingers as he pressed onto your tongue. It had to be the shock of it, the reality of the hot, hard dick pressing into your stomach and the way he was staring at you like some piece of fucking meat, but you gagged around his fingers.

“Why am I not fucking surprised, you goddamn fucking whore,” he sneered, his fingers shoving faster into your mouth, pressing dangerously hard against your tongue, trying to get you to gag and choke around his fingers. “You fucking sure you’re a fucking sidekick? Look at you, pathetic, stupid, crying like a baby in an alleyway? You’re a hero, aren’t you? Fucking save yourself from this, you fucking bitch.”

You violently shake, your hands finding themselves tethered to his shirt, your head shaking nonetheless.

“Oh, you don’t want to save yourself?” He coos, his expression turning the slightest bit amused, maybe a bit possessive, but it lasts a second. You blink, and anger has replaced the amusement, red streaking in his vision. “Why the fuck not?”

“B-Because,” you strangle, your tongue flat against your mouth, your throat instinctively opening and closing against his fingers. “I said I’ll do anything y-you wanted!”

There’s another pause, and you wait pressed against the wall, your chest heaving with your anxiety and weird turned-on state. Shinsou was a Pro Hero, someone who was eight years older than you, someone you had respected since you were in grade school. Yet, here you were, looking nothing more than a slab of meat to him, a hole for him to abuse in his anger because you had fucked up.

“Oh, you stupid fucking slut,” he laughed, his teethed bared into a feral smirk. “You want this, huh. You want to please me any way I see fucking fit, fucking perfect. Turn around.”

There’s no room to argue or think; he turns you around without a second's notice. His hand shoving your chest into the wall, and you cry at the discomfort. He grabs your ass, pushing you uncomfortably into an arched position as he tears your pants down from your legs.

“You’re a worthless fucking cumdump. Not even noon yet, and I’m going use your fucking body however I see fit.” Shinsou promises, fingers raking down your supple ass. Nails tearing into your skin, fingers slapping your covered cunt. “You worthless fucking slut, dirty fucking whore, already goddamn wet.”

“I’m n-not wet!” you cry, hips spasming against his rough hold, and slaps to your aching cunt. You know it’s a lie, you know that clear as day, but it doesn’t keep you from lying. Doesn’t stop you from shivering when he pinches at the cloth of your panties and removes them from your sopping wet folds.

“You think I don’t know if you’re wet or not?” Shinsou growled in warning, his fingers pinching together your soaked folds. An action that makes you cry loudly, the sharp pain too much for you. “You think I’m some fucking idiot?”

“N-No!” you cry, his fingers shifting to where your throbbing entrance is and his other hand going to your mouth, once again claiming your lips as his nails purposefully impose pain on your heated cunt.

“You must think that since you’re lying to me,” he snaps, his mouth pressed to your ear, his hot breaths making your eyes roll to the back of your head. You want to speak up, say something, but his fingers are fucking your mouth, keeping you from speaking back. “But again, you aren’t fucking worth anything, are you? You’re not fucking anything.”

Those words whip against your skin, making you twist in his arms, hot tears pushing past your eyes again as you cry.

“Oh, you don’t like that?” Shinsou comments, his fingers pinching and pulling your tongue, and his hips begin to grind his hot, burning flesh into your ass. “Well, you better stop fucking crying because I’m not gonna stop until I’m fucking done — until I’m fucking relieved. This isn’t about you; this is for me. You aren’t shit, fucking worthless piece of shit whore.”

You sob into the brick wall, the tears unable to be stopped, unable to clear as his fingers that were scraping at your folds begin to fuck you at the same time as he fingers your mouth faster. The sensation of being outside, finger fucked in an alleyway by a Pro Hero you admired and respected beyond comparison, made you tremble with want and need. His cruel, completely degrading words a warm fire in your belly and against your skin.

The sounds of the wet caverns he was currently fucking begin to echo in the wall, his throbbing cock grinding against your ass. It’s a sensation that makes you cry with need, your ass shifting back to feel him more, to get more from the contact he’s giving you.

“Of course some screwup like you likes this shit,” Shinsou grunted, his fingers fishing and rubbing against the spongy warmth of your walls, fingers scraping ever so gently against the velvetiness. You spasm against his touch, your whiney, pleasure-filled noises filling up the alleyway almost as loudly as the choking and the squelching of your pussy.

His hands suddenly leave your mouth, and you’re heaving at the deserted feeling in your mouth. You whip your head around, trying to see just why he had abandoned your mouth, desperate to please him more in any way he saw fit. But instead, you’re met with the sicky coldness of your saliva spread across your face. Almost instantly drying against your face as your still tear-soaked eyes looked into his dark ones.

“Don’t look so fucking sad, stupid cockslut,” Shinsou snapped, his hand that had been fucking your cunt abandoning your warmth and meeting your face. You whined, unable to come up with words as he spreads your slick against your face. A shiver wrecks your spine, a pathetic whimper at the smell, and the feel of the warm thickness of your slick. “You wanted this, fucking asked me to wreck your worthless holes.”

“I-I’m not sad,” you try to defend yourself, your body shaking as you feel the heated warmth of his cock suddenly between the curves of your ass. It presses heavily onto you, skin twitching and throbbing with its emitting warmth and simmering heat.

Shinsou pauses, his eyes deadly and threatening as he glares at you. Unamusement heavy in his gaze, his mouth set in a small, teeth-baring snarl. “Then why the fuck are you crying? You think you deserve to be crying right now? No. You fucking worthless slut, you don’t. You ruined my damn shift, my damn case, I should be the one fucking crying. Your pathetic ass is worthless and tried to make my life the same, and that won’t fucking fly.”

The words tighten at your throat, your body trembling as tears continue to flow. His words are white-hot against your skin, and although it hurts to hear it, your cunt clenches in response, slicking even more.

His hand comes down suddenly onto your ass. The slap sharp and stinging, echoing loudly against the alleyway walls as you scream in pain. It throbs, your back contorting as you try to stretch the skin that makes you ache. But Shinsou spanks your ass again, without warning, his hand unmerciful against your soft, swelling flesh. You yelp again.

He spanks again, and again, and again. Each echoing action sending your voice screaming, counting them without even being told, succumbed to him and his every action and thought without needing to be. He spanks you until your ass feels raw and bloody, the bruises undoubtedly forming as he pinches the folds of your dripping cunt.

“Stick your ass out more,” he growls, tugging at the fold, making you stumble. The cock pressing onto the split of your ass feels heavy, and you twitch at the seeping pre-cum dripping onto your muscled rim. The bricks scratch at your face, and you find your ass wiggling out further from the wall, your back arched more as the cold wall sings through the clothes on your breast. “I’m not gonna put more fucking effort into fucking a goddamn worthless bitch than I should.”

And with that, your ass perfectly exposed for him to use and fuck. His throbbing cock presses through your pussy and slams all the way into you.

There were many pains you were used to as an aspiring hero. You were used to being punched, kicked, stabbed, thrown about, etc. Each of those pains were something you had been taught to make feel better, each pain demonstrated to you so that it wouldn’t be the thing that took you out. But there was no training for the way that his thick cock pressed through your impossibly tight entrance. There was no pain that could relate to the white fire of your rapidly fluttering entrance that was trying too hard to keep up with his slamming thick cock.

“IT HURTS!” you shriek, body twisting, tears flooding your cheeks as you feel weak in the legs. Body moments from falling. “It hurts so much! Please! It hurts!”

“Oh? It hurts? It's supposed to fucking hurt you fucking idiot, fucking whore,” Shinsou snapped in return, his hips firing into even faster than before. His massive body practically caving onto you as his cock rockets into you. Unforgiving, relentless, and with the drive to make him cum. Your vision swirls and spins as the pain reaches its peak, your mouth opening, your voice no longer working. But oh, how the saliva dripped from your mouth as his hands abandoned your waist to grab onto your stretched cheeks. He held onto your cheeks like some gag, slamming your head into his chest so your dazed eyes could stare up at him as his menacing gaze bore down on you. “You think this was supposed to make you feel good? I don’t give a shit if you cum. This is for me. I’m not fucking stopping until I’m done using you, so shut the fuck up.”

Your whimper is soft, no longer able to keep up with the pleasure your body begins to reach as the pain becomes one of pure bliss. Your eyes crossing as every thrust of his welcomed cock drives you further and further up the wall. The squelching of your meeting sexes almost sounds like a nursery rhyme. A pleasant noise that makes you giggle deliriously as Shinsou continues to degrade you continues to spout how insignificant you are.

“Your only purpose in your shit life is to be my fucking cumdump, fucking bitch, do you understand me?” Shinsou spat, his thrusting becoming barbaric, stammering in his power and speed. You laugh, your head nodding as you stare up at him with loving eyes, the drool and tears on your face trailing down your throat, soaking your uniform. “Tell me what your purpose is?”

“To be your cumdump!” you laugh, elation bubbling in your chest, fluttering deep around your cunt until you felt Shinsou’s teeth sink into your throat.

The feeling of hot, sticky cum expelling into your cunt feels like blistering euphoria, his heavy, rough breathing on your skin, making you moan softly. Your own orgasm hits, much softer, much more controlled than his as your walls clamp down like a vice around him. Your orgasm is warm, sounding deep within you that you almost didn’t realize you were dropped to the floor.

A soft, pitiful moan sounds from your lip, your eyes focused on Shinsou, who’s shoving his limp cock back into his pants, but his eyes are on the skyline.

“I-I’m sorry for messing up your… your case,” you rasp on the floor.

Shinsou shifts on his feet, his gaze lingering longer onto the skyline before finally setting onto you. The anger seems to have disappeared, a look of slight boredom but the excitement in his eyes as he leans down over you. You feel breathless when his mouth presses against yours in a short, chaste kiss.

“I think you just helped me keep my cover, slut; maybe you do have some worth,” he laughed against your mouth.

He leaves you there, your body going limp and blackness taking over the moment he disappears.

#shinsou x reader #shinsou smut #bnha #bnha x reader #mha #tw: dubcon #bbs kinktober 2020

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qyllenhaal · 3 years

Text

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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antebunny · 3 years

Text

Intervention Gone Wrong

^^despite the vaguely crack title this swings wildly between crack and angst because those are my two midnight moods^^

When Wei Wuxian hears that the sects are all gathering to form an alliance to kill him, it’s depressing how quickly he believes it. His initial reaction is disbelief, rejection, denial, but all too soon reality sets in. Even after all Wei Wuxian has lived through, apparently he’s still managed to be naive. It’s not like he’s done anything. He’s been holed up with the Wens in the Burial Mounds, trying to turn the resentment-soaked ground into something farmable. He even missed his sister’s wedding, and staged a fight between himself and Jiang Cheng just to fully sever ties with the cultivation world. All he wants is to be left alone.

“They say even Sect Leader Jiang is going,” the people of Yiling are whispering when Wei Wuxian descends from the Burial Mounds.

Wei Wuxian is glad that none of them recognize him as the Yiling Patriarch, because he strolls up to one of the vendors he heard whispering, and prods him for more information.

“All the cultivation sects are gathering in Nightless City to kill our Patriarch,” the man says. “Someone must’ve let it slip, but it was supposed to be a secret–he’s not supposed to know.”

Well. The Yiling Patriarch knows.

He abandons the quest for potatoes and returns to their settlement in the Burial Mounds. When he tells the Wen siblings, their faces turn white.

“I’m s–” Wen Ning begins.

“Don’t apologize,” Wei Wuxian cuts him off. “It’s not your fault.”

“If you hadn’t protected us–” Wen Qing begins.

“It’s not your fault,” Wei Wuxian says again. “It’s.” He presses his lips together, and when he opens them, he means to say why couldn’t they just leave us alone? But what spills out is a plaintive: “Even Jiang Cheng?”

They’re looking at him with pity now, and Wei Wuxian hates that, but he can’t take the words back. He can imagine how it happened: if the rest of the great sects all agreed–so he supposes Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen must have changed their minds about him, though he doesn’t know why–then Jiang Cheng would’ve been pressured into agreeing as well.

“We have to evacuate,” Wen Qing says.

“Maybe they’re just rumors,” Wen Ning suggests at the same time.

Wei Wuxian can’t help but spare a fond thought for his endlessly optimistic friend, but it’s optimism he no longer shares. “We still have to evacuate,” he says. “If you take everyone to the forest island between Yunmeng and Qishan, I can join you there. And then we can find a plot of land somewhere, I suppose, to hide.”

He’s already turned his back on the cultivation world, but hiding from it entirely–completely leaving it behind, without any chance of seeing his family ever again–is a worse kind of goodbye.

“And where are you going?” Wen Qing asks suspiciously.

Wei Wuxian manages a bone-weary smile for her. “Isn’t it obvious?” He says tiredly. “Nightless City.”

Contrary to popular belief, Nie Huaisang actually does care about people, not just his birds and his fans. And he doesn’t just care about his brother, although his brother is of course his first priority. Nie Huaisang cares about his friends, Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng, and he cares about the Nie disciples under his brother’s care, and he cares about his brother’s sworn brothers. Nie Huaisang empathizes with people, he just usually chooses not to act on it.

The thing is, Nie Huaisang likes Wei Wuxian. They’re not the sworn brother type of friends; Nie Huaisang’s not exactly dying for him. He likes Wei Wuxian’s easy-going friendliness, likes his willingness to help, and admires his unwillingness to bend his core principles. It reminds him a lot of Nie Mingjue. This is all to say that Nie Huaisang thinks that the world is a better place with Wei Wuxian, and unfortunately the world seems to disagree.

Nie Huaisang just wishes that the job of keeping Wei Wuxian alive fell to anyone but him. He’d kept his head down and assumed that they’d figure it out eventually, but he’s not stupid, he sees where this is going. His first thought is that Jiang Cheng will figure it out, but then he remembers his friend is pricklier than a pear, and with more parental issues than Jin Guangyao. Jiang Yanli, he thinks, could help in theory. Nie Huaisang briefly muses on encouraging Jiang Yanli to fix things, before deciding that getting her to overcome a lifetime of being told that she’s no help is much harder than just doing it himself.

And since there’s no one else who cares about Wei Wuxian, that means that if Nie Huaisang wants to visit Lotus Pier at any point in the future and trade gossip with his friends, he’s going to have to stage an intervention for Wei Wuxian.

Honestly. The things he does for his friends.

Nie Huaisang also hopes that an intervention can get Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng out of the dark mood they’ve been in ever since the end of the Sunshot Campaign. It’s understandable, truly, but Nie Huaisang isn’t touching that with a ten-foot saber.

The first sect Nie Huaisang goes to is the Lan sect. Lan Xichen is bound to hear him out, now that he’s Nie Huaisang’s brother’s sworn brother, and Nie Huaisang wants to know where they stand on the whole Yiling Patriarch business.

Lan Wangji is the most difficult person Nie Huaisang has ever tried to understand, and he didn’t try all that much. All he’s really sure of is that Hanguang-jun could not get away from Wei Wuxian fast enough back during their guest disciple year, and hates demonic cultivation. This he knows second-hand, from countless tales of arguments between the two during the war. It’s a bad combination for Wei Wuxian, but luckily for him, Lan Wangji also has an unmatched reputation for righteousness. Considering that he chose to argue with Wei Wuxian over demonic cultivation instead of just letting the man rest and win the war for them, Nie Huaisang figures this is more or less accurate. All in all, Nie Huaisang is pretty sure that Lan Wangji will support Wei Wuxian, if he realizes that the Jins are purposefully trying to get him killed.

Lan Xichen, it turns out, is fully aware that Jin Guangshan is up to something, but he’s pretending that he doesn’t.

“Sect Leader Jin’s business is Sect Leader Jin’s business,” Lan Xichen says firmly, when Nie Huaisang prods a little too much. “You know we don’t gossip.”

Ah well. It’s not like Nie Huaisang was expecting support on his one-man intervention quest. He does a little more snooping before he leaves the Cloud Recesses, which is how he discovers a stunning secret.

“Wangji,” he overhears Lan Xichen saying. “I know you…care for Young Master Wei–”

That’s as good as a declaration of love from either Lan brother. Which is to say: Lan Wangji is in love with Wei Wuxian. Now that’s a match that even Nie Huaisang, matchmaker extraordinaire, didn’t see coming.

Once Lan Xichen has accidentally confessed his brother’s love for Wei Wuxian to Nie Huaisang, suddenly Nie Huaisang has a great advantage. He hasn’t the faintest clue how their relationship will work out in the future, between Wei Wuxian’s demonic cultivation and Lan Wangji’s sect rules, but that is another issue that Nie Huaisang isn’t touching with a ten-foot saber. For now, it’s enough to know that there’s someone else, someone with power, that Nie Huaisang can rely on to keep Wei Wuxian alive.

So the next place Nie Huaisang goes to is the Jin sect. He drags Jin Guangyao away from his duties for a night of drinking, and then proceeds to get blackout drunk. Or at least, he pretends to get blackout drunk.

“Did you know,” Nie Huaisang says, through hiccups, “That Lan Wangji has a th…” His mouth works, trying to form the word. “A thing!” He fumbles for his glass again.

“Perhaps you should have water now, Young Master Nie,” Jin Guangyao suggests.

“Ah ah ahhhh,” Nie Huaisang corrects, slurring the sounds together. “What did I say about this young master business?”

Jin Guangyao smiles indulgently at him. “Not to?”

“Uh-huh.” Nie Huaisang thinks for a moment. “A thing!” He repeats. “For Wei Wuxian!”

“What sort of thing?” Jin Guangyao asks.

“Oh, you know,” Nie Huaisang fumbles for his fan and waves it around airily. “That sort of thing.”

He can see Jin Guangyao pale, and knows he’s working through the logical thought process. If Lan Wangji will be sad when Wei Wuxian dies, then Lan Xichen will be sad, and Jin Guangyao doesn’t want that. But even as Nie Huaisang sees this, he knows that it won’t be enough. Jin Guangyao will still do it, on the off-chance that he finally wins his father’s approval.

Nie Huaisang wants to shake him by the shoulders and tell him that he deserves better, but he doesn’t. Instead, he tries to imagine that he’s Jin Guangshan (ew), and his plan to stir the sects into killing the Yiling Patriarch isn’t working, because Wei Wuxian just isn’t doing anything. If he were Jin Guangshan, he would either find a way to lure Wei Wuxian out of the Burial Mounds, or find a way to frame him for something and rally the sects to kill him before Wei Wuxian can protest his innocence.

So Nie Huaisang just has to move first.

“Da-ge,” Nie Huaisang begins sweetly, and he is offended by the very visible flash of fear in his brother’s eyes. “I’m your favorite brother, right?”

“What’s wrong?” Nie Mingjue says, a bead of sweat forming on his upper lip. “I haven’t even made you practice saber recently.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Nie Huaisang says, throwing in a pout for good measure. “But things could be better.”

“What is it?” Nie Mingjue asks warily.

Nie Huaisang blinks innocently. “I was just thinking how much happier I would be if you did me this one small, small favor.” He stops to estimate how much Wei Wuxian is worth to him. “I’d even do two consecutive weeks of saber practice,” he wheedles.

Nie Mingjue eyes him like Nie Huaisang is the one twice his size. “Depends on the favor?” He settles on finally.

Nie Huaisang tells him.

“You want me to what.”

“No,” Jiang Cheng says.

“Hear me out,” Nie Huaisang wheedles.

Lotus Pier is the last of the great sects on Nie Huaisang’s list, just because he feels like Jiang Cheng will be a lot easier to convince once there’s nothing he can do about it anyway.

Jiang Cheng merely glares at him, looking about one second from kicking him out of the Jiang sect leader’s private meeting rooms. “I know you’re behind this, Huaisang,” he says flatly.

Now Nie Huaisang has to admit that in his haste to act before Jin Guangshan, he’s been more obvious than he would’ve liked, but he’s truly been transparent if even Jiang Cheng knew he was up to something.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Nie Huaisang wails, fanning himself aggressively.

“I know you’re the reason your brother decided to join Jin Guangshan’s crusade!” Jiang Cheng explodes. “I don’t know why, but–”

“Sect Leader Jin was going to do it sooner or later,” Nie Huaisang interrupts, eyes innocently wide. “I only thought that if we joined in we’d have more control over it.”

Jiang Cheng’s eyes narrow into slits. “Let me get this straight,” he says. “You think Jin Guangshan wants my brother dead, for the Seal.” He doesn’t even bother waiting for confirmation, which is how Nie Huaisang knows that Jiang Cheng already believes that. “So your solution is to get the sects to make a pact to kill my brother–just so that you do it before Jin Guangshan does.”

Well, when he puts it that way…

“Okay, look,” Nie Huaisang says, snapping his fan shut. “Jin Guangshan goes to Nightless City thinking he’s heading an alliance to kill Wei Wuxian. Then my brother suggests destroying the Seal, and you support him. The Lans are bound to support that, so then either Jin Guangshan is forced to reveal his hand or he’s forced to back down.”

And hopefully whatever’s going on between you and Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian gets sorted out as well, Nie Huaisang thinks. He doesn’t have a plan for that, exactly, so much as the hope that if he pours the chaos of the entire cultivation world into Wei Wuxian’s lap, something’s bound to come loose.

“Alright,” Jiang Cheng relents, albeit begrudgingly. “Who’s going to tell Wei Wuxian?”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Nie Huaisang says, snapping his fan open again and hiding his smile. “I have a plan for that.”

“I d-don’t know why da-ge changed his mind!” Nie Huaisang sobs into Lan Xichen’s arms. “B-but now everyone is going to kill Wei Wuxian, and he hasn’t even done anything!”

Lan Xichen pats Nie Huaisang on the back, his face pale. “I’m sure we can talk this out,” he says weakly. “But, Huaisang, my brother–”

“He hates Wei Wuxian, I know,” Nie Huaisang interrupts, sobbing even louder.

He pauses, breath hitching just in time to hear the sound of a spiritual sword being unsheathed–and then, presumably, mounted. Lan Xichen had probably been about to say something like “my brother is coming.” It’s really too bad Nie Huaisang interrupted him.

“It’s so sad, because Wuxian really likes him!”

Lan Xichen blinks several times, and his face does something funny. “R-really?”

Nie Huaisang sniffs loudly. “But that’s not the point,” he cries. He tugs on Lan Xichen’s robes. “You have to go stop them!”

“The Lan sect will surely have a presence,” Lan Xichen says. “But Huaisang–”

Nie Huaisang bursts into tears again, successfully distracting him from escaping Nie Huaisang’s clutches. He doesn’t stop crying, or let Lan Xichen leave, for another ten minutes, until Lan Wangji has had plenty of time to leave the Cloud Recesses.

Doubtless he’ll fly to Yiling, where he’ll tell Wei Wuxian a less than comprehensive overview of their plan. It’s not exactly the informant Jiang Cheng had been picturing, but Nie Huaisang will make do, so long as it’s Lan Wangji. Perhaps he’ll vow to protect Wei Wuxian, and then declare his undying love to Wei Wuxian–so Nie Huaisang’s a romantic, sue him–so by the time the two of them actually make it to Nightless City, another piece of the puzzle will be in place.

Wei Ying.

Lan Wangji lands at the base of the Burial Mounds running. He tears up the path, worn into the mountain’s face by Wei Ying and the Wens. When he reaches the top, the place where the little Wen settlement once stood is completely empty. The cave where Wei Ying once slept is empty. Little Wen Yuan is nowhere to be found, nor are the elderly Wens. There’s no sign of life, anywhere, save for the abandoned plot of land, ready for farming.

Lan Wangji falls to his knees, sullying his white robes with dirt. Wei Ying, he thinks desperately. Where are you?

The last time Nightless City had this many people, they were leading the final attack of Wen Ruohan.

The memory randomly occurs to Wei Wuxian as he alights on the massive outer wall of the Sun Palace, before the great pavilion where all the sect cultivators have gathered. Last time, they were charging up these steps, while Wen Ruohan stood in the entrance. Now, Wei Wuxian stands on top of it, one hand on Chenqing, and the other on the Seal.

Down below, he sees the bright yellow robes of the Jins. Jin Guangshan has placed himself at the head of the alliance, because of course he has. But Jin Guangyao is there, his father’s silent shadow, and so is Jin Zixuan, looking distinctly uncomfortable. Nie Mingjue is stone-faced at the head of the Nie contingent. Lan Xichen is blank-faced at the head of the Lans, almost like his brother.

In vain, Wei Wuxian looks for Lan Zhan. He doesn’t care what he sees reflected back at him, he only wants to see Lan Zhan. But he isn’t there. Finally, Wei Wuxian looks over the Jiangs. Jiang Cheng is scowling, to Wei Wuxian’s utter lack of surprise.

“How rude,” Wei Wuxian calls, interrupting whatever Jin Guangshan’s going on about. “A party for me and I wasn’t invited?”

Jin Guangshan startles when he hears Wei Wuxian, though he hides it well. Jiang Cheng doesn’t seem surprised, merely directs his scowl directly at Wei Wuxian. Which is rather unfair, Wei Wuxian feels. It’s not like he’s done anything wrong.

“Get off the roof,” Jiang Cheng snaps. “Get down here.”

Wei Wuxian stares down at him, eyes fizzling with red light. He can’t be serious. Just because Jiang Cheng didn’t tell him doesn’t mean Wei Wuxian doesn’t know what this is about.

“You can’t be serious,” he sneers.

“It might induce a better conversation,” Lan Xichen says, solemnly.

That’s certainly no lie. The Lans never lie. Though Wei Wuxian would make a case for misleading–his sentence implies that the reason they want Wei Wuxian to come down is just so that they don’t have to shout at each other from so far away, and not–

“Won’t you come down and join us?” Jin Guangshan says, sickly sweet. “We were discussing some concerns that people have raised about your behavior.”

–So that they can kill him easier.

Why is he here again? Oh, that’s right. Wei Wuxian was hoping this was an overblown rumor.

Wei Wuxian laughs harshly. The sound is swallowed by the endless night. “Sect Leader Jin must think I’m stupid,” he says, with thinly veiled anger.

“Wei Wuxian,” Jiang Cheng fumes. “Stop playing around and get down here.”

“Who’s playing around?” Wei Wuxian demands, Chenqing twirling around and around in his hand. He stalks up and down the roof, just an inky smudge against the vast black sky. Torches flicker all around the pavilion, lighting the cultivators up in all their colors.

Usually Jiang Cheng is a terrible liar, but there’s not a hint of deception in his demeanor right now. If Jiang Cheng wants to settle a score with him, then Wei Wuxian is happy to do so. But as far as Wei Wuxian is concerned, he doesn’t owe the rest of the world anything.

“I heard Sect Leader Jin’s moving speech,” Wei Wuxian continues, full to the brim with anger. He stops pacing, and stands facing the cultivators. His hand trembles on Chenqing. He didn’t come here for a fight, but now his blood is singing for one.

From the back of the mass of cultivators, a moving white blur comes in at full speed. Soon, the blur reveals itself to be Lan Wangji, late for clearly the first time in his life, if his expression is any indication. Every line in his typically stoic face is drawn taut with tension. Wei Wuxian’s hunger for a fight drains away.

He’s still angry, but he has to protect the Wens. They’re waiting for him, on the forest island halfway between the Burial Mounds and Nightless City. He has to return to them, or Wen Ning is probably going to come wandering into Nightless City looking for him. He can’t afford a fight.

“Good for you,” Jiang Cheng gripes. “Now will you get off the roof?”

Wei Wuxian is still angry, but beneath that, beneath all the bravado and the sneers and the self-righteousness are the white-knuckled, shaking hands that he draws in front of him to clutch Chenqing protectively by his chest. Beneath it all is the shaking voice that Wei Wuxian forces down until his tone sounds acceptable. Beneath it all is the part of Wei Wuxian that he doesn’t want to admit: the part that’s terrified.

Lan Zhan stops next to his brother, joining the ranks of Lan cultivators, and whatever hope Wei Wuxian had sinks like a stone to the soles of his boots. Dread pools like acid in his stomach, hissing and churning his emotions into knots.

Wei Wuxian looks across 3,000 cultivators, and swallows, laughter and sneers fading away at last. His voice is small and shaking when he finally speaks. “I’m not coming down, Jiang Cheng,” Wei Wuxian says.

#so this doesn't make sense #but in my defense #uh it's 1 am?#what can you expect?#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #the untamed #wei wuxian #nie huaisang #lan xichen #jiang cheng #my writing #writeblr #lan wangji #nie mingjue #antebunny's ficlets

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t0wnspersonb · 4 years

Text

Love and Ghosts (Tendou Satori x Reader)

Word Count: 2,054

Summary: The volleyball team decides to take a trip to the mountains for a training camp. One night as everyone is settling down Tendou decides to tell a scary story, and you, being the complete scaredy cat that you are, couldn’t handle it. But your favorite middle blocker doesn’t hesitate to comfort you... both times.

~~~

I’m so sorry for not being active as much guys!!!! I really hope you guys enjoy this one, I hope I was able to do our Tendou some justice since he doesn’t get that much love I feel like. I hope the writing isn’t shit either lol. I’ve been super busy with life recently and haven’t really had the time or motivation to write a lot. Requests are open, so I will be shuffling through my inbox and will be writing for those hopefully soon. Once again I hope this story is okay and not complete garbage, writing for Tendou is a bit hard for me because I feel like I can’t really capture his personality lol. BUT let me know what you think😘😘😘

~~~

You whimpered softly, your grip on Goshiki tightening dramatically, not that he even noticed since he was squeezing you just as tight.

“ - But the next morning she was gone, and all that was left… was a bloody shoe.” Tendou said eerily, the flashlight he was using illuminated his face in the creepiest way possible. “Legend has it, she still roams around these woods searching for her shoe…”

Loud rustling was heard from behind you, causing you and Goshiki to scream loudly before you launched yourself over the campsite and right into Tendou’s arms where you clung to him tightly. You buried your face into his chest.

It wasn’t just you and Goshiki that had gotten frightened, the rest of the team had jumped at the sudden noise after being so engrossed in Tendou’s story.

It was just Semi though, who was returning back to his seat after using the bathroom.

“It’s just a story Y/n-san, you should try and relax.” Shirabu sighed.

You looked over at him accusingly, tears still gathered in your eyes. “It’s still really scary Shira-chan! You guys know I can’t handle these kinds of stories!”

The rest of the team looked at you in amusement and adoration. They knew how much of a scaredy cat you were, and how much of a cry baby you were.

“I’ll protect you Y/n-senpai!” Goshiki said suddenly, although he was wiping the tears from his eyes as well.

Shirabu narrowed his eyes at him before looking off into the distance. “What is that?”

Goshiki screeched once more before rapidly looking around.

“You aren’t going to protect anything.” Shirabu snorted. “You’re just as scared as Y/n.”

Despite the fear that had gripped at your heart from the scary story, you were incredibly happy about this training camp.

It was your idea to do this camp in the mountains, and Washijou-sensei was entirely pleased with the training regime you had come up with.

Despite being a crybaby and a scaredy cat, you were the most reliable manager ever. The amount of care and thought you put into your team was greatly appreciated by everyone.

“Are you planning on staying in my lap the entire night Y/n-chan?” Tendou asked quietly, you looked up at the tall male who was staring down at you in amusement.

Blush began to creep into your cheeks at his statement and your now realized position. You hadn’t even thought about it when you launched yourself at the redheaded male, but now that you were staring back at him, and realizing just how close your face was to his, well, maybe this was a bad idea.

It also didn’t help that you harbored a large crush on Tendou. You weren’t exactly sure when or how it happened, but recently just his appearance made your heart race. Tendou wasn’t shy when it came to praising you for your hard work, and it soon became something that you sought after.

He wasn’t shy when it came to complimenting your appearance either, which you definitely didn’t mind.

“S-Sorry.” you apologized and attempted to remove yourself from his lap, only for him to yank you back into his chest.

His eyes turned catlike for a moment, a small smirk coating his lips. “I didn’t say that you had to move, you’re so cute when you’re scared Y/n-chan. If you want me to protect you the entire night my tent is always open.”

Your face burned at his statement. The butterflies in your stomach rippled wildly as a pleasant shiver made its way down your spine, you were suddenly very aware of his large hands resting on your back, almost burning through the layers of clothes.

“T-Tendou-kun!” you stuttered out in embarrassment, your hands shoving at his chest as you scrambled to remove yourself completely from him.

He laughed loudly as you stumbled back to your seat next to Goshiki. Luckily everyone was in their own little world to even notice the exchange that had happened between you and the tall middle blocker.

“Y-Y/n-senpai you know that you can always depend on me to protect you right!?” Goshiki stuttered out, his eyes wide and bright.

A sweet smile overtook your features and you hugged the younger male tightly. “You’re so sweet Goshiki-chan! So reliable, what are you the ace!?”

The said male began spluttering about at your praise, causing the rest of the team to either sigh loudly or roll their eyes at the exchange. Sometimes your sweet disposition and praises were too much, especially because it stroked everyone’s ego immensely.

“Don’t coddle him Y/n. He needs more practice if he’s ever going to be the ace.” Shirabu sighed.

“Don’t be so mean Shira-chan, Goshiki-chan can be the ace if he really sets his mind to it. Although he definitely won’t be the kind of ace like Ushijima-kun.” You said thoughtfully.

“She’s right.” Ushijima said, glancing over at your group.

This caused Goshiki to begin defending himself; loud bickering and laughter could be heard from your group now. Unbeknownst to you, Tendou was staring at you from across the campsite, his eyes drinking in every inch of your face, calculating and memorizing every reaction.

It wasn’t just you that had it bad. Tendou started harboring a large crush on you since you had joined the volleyball team.

You were sweet and caring, the gentlest person he had ever met. The kindness that you displayed to everyone was something that surprised him greatly, but what surprised him the most was your neverending dedication and praise towards the volleyball team.

He remembered the first time he actually started to fall for you, and that was when you had found out about his guess blocking. The sheer awe on your face had made the male incredibly uncomfortable for a moment, until you began telling him how cool he was, how amazing he was.

He was a goner after that.

Tendou started to notice a change in you recently, the lingering stares, the extra touches, the newfound nervousness and blush that you always seemed to have around him when it was just the two of you.

Maybe it was wishful thinking on his part, but he had hoped that you felt the same way, that you returned his feelings.

After earlier tonight when you had jumped into his lap… well, maybe his hunch was right.

By the time everyone had retired to their tents it was already incredibly late, and for some reason you couldn’t sleep at all. You sighed loudly as you tossed around in your sleeping bag before deciding to take a trip to the bathroom.

You hadn’t even registered what time it was as you started walking back to your tent, but suddenly the story that Tendou had told earlier fluttered into your mind, causing your body to break out in a cold sweat.

Wasn’t… Wasn’t it around this time that the girl in the story would go out looking for her shoe?

Your heart was racing in your chest as you started walking faster towards the team’s campsite, suddenly hyper aware of every noise around you.

That’s when you heard it, a loud rustling noise that caused you to pause. You slowly turned to look behind you and a tall figure could be spotted with the soft glow of your phone that you were using for light.

You screeched loudly and started running, you could hear thundering footsteps behind you, causing you to run faster.

You weren’t athletic, you hated running, which was why being a manager was a great position for you.

But this was life or death, so of course you ran, you ran past the campsite without even realizing it until you were incredibly far out. Your body slowing down as your lungs screamed for oxygen and your legs burned with the need for rest.

You leaned against a tree, panting loudly as you gulped down lungfuls of air. But then something touched your back causing you to screech once again; your body squatted down, your hands hugging the tops of your head as you squeezed your eyes tightly shut.

“I-I-I don’t have your shoe!” you cried out, fat tears rolling down your face, your entire body trembling in fear. “Please don’t eat me!”

“Y/n-chan.” a familiar voice spoke out and then large warm hands gently grabbed at yours, attempting to pull your hands away from your face.

“Tendou-kun!” You sobbed out, reaching for the redhead, you gripped the front of his shirt tightly as you pressed your face into his chest, his familiar scent and body heat eased your racing heart.

You weren’t sure how long you were in this position for, but eventually your tears had dried and your heart resumed its normal beat.

“I’m sorry for scaring you.” he said quietly. “For the story and earlier, I went to go get a bottle of water and I saw you walking back but before I could say anything you screamed and ran off.”

“T-That was you?” you hiccuped.

“Yeah. I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you that bad.” he laughed sheepishly.

“It’s okay Tendou-kun… I’m just glad it was you and not something else.” You shivered at the thought, causing his grip on you to tighten. “Maybe no more scary stories for the rest of the trip, or at least not while I’m still up.”

“No problem Y/n-chan. I didn’t know you could run that fast, it was pretty impressive.” He laughed again.

A soft smile began to form on your lips, you couldn’t help it, his laugh had warmed you to the core, it left your heart at ease.

The safety that you felt being around Tendou was the best feeling.

“We should head back now… are you okay to walk?” Tendou asked, carefully helping you up.

“Yeah… oh here.” You handed him your phone so that he could use the flashlight, making the journey back a bit easier.

It was then that you noticed why you didn’t recognize him at first. His hair was down.

A soft flush coated your cheeks, he was incredibly handsome with his hair down. You had never seen him like that before, his usual spiky hair was something that you were completely used to, but this… this was making your heart race once again, only this time, it was for an entirely different reason.

“Y/n-chan… can I tell you something before we get back to camp?” Tendou asked awkwardly, his steps halting.

“Sure, what is it?” You stared at him in curiosity.

This was it. He was going to confess, he had to. He couldn’t take it anymore, and the way that you clung to him… the way that you made him feel, well, this was it.

He sighed deeply before his large hands rested carefully on your shoulders, he peered down at you with serious eyes and it made your heart quicken even further.

“I like you Y/n-chan. A lot. I’ve liked you since the first day you became manager. I understand if you don’t return my feelings but… I just wanted to tell you before it was too late.”

You looked away from his intense gaze, you vaguely wondered if he could hear your racing heart, it felt like it was about to pop out of your chest.

He confessed.

Tendou liked you.

“Tendou-kun…” your voice was incredibly soft, your hands coming up to gently rest on top of his big ones. You gazed up at him through your lashes, a shy expression overtaking your features. “I like you too…”

Tendou’s eyes widened in surprise, now it felt like his heart was about to pop out of his chest, but then warmth seeped into his body. A wide grin overtook his features and he couldn’t help but gaze you with adoration and complete happiness.

“Let’s go on a date after the training camp is over Y/n-chan!” He stated loudly, and then began to tug you along back to the site. His long fingers easily intertwined with yours, your linked hands began swinging back and forth between your two bodies.

You had never been happier.

“My girlfriend is the cutest, we’ll go on a cafe date.” You heard Tendou begin to sing, his pointer finger waving in the air as he hummed happily to himself.

Maybe scary stories weren’t so bad after all.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #tendou satori x reader #tendou satori x you #tendou satori #tendou x reader #tendou x you #reader insert #haikyuu reader insert #tendou satori fluff #fluff #haikyuu fluff #tendou haikyuu #requests are open #requests are welcome #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu imagines #tendou satori one shot

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agwitow · 3 years

Text

Alpha Wolves

content warning: swearing, mild violence

Marcus yawned, his jaw cracking, and shook out his pants. It had been a long night, helping two pups with their first change. They were already packed into their parents’ SUVs, fast asleep, and on the way to their homes. In a few months they would be good to join a pack. It wasn’t always as simple with new shifters, but those two each had a parent who was one as well. Even at eight and ten, they knew a fair amount of what it meant to be a lycanthrope.

Dressed in sweats and a light cotton long-sleeved shirt, he ran a hand over his jaw and sighed. Full moon changes always made his hair grow. Even though he’d been clean-shaven before the change, he had what felt like two-days of growth now. Shaggy hair didn’t bother him nearly as much as a beard did, though by the end of the three days he’d need to get that trimmed as well.

He padded barefoot into the little cabin that served as his base of operations while helping new shifters and started a pot of coffee brewing. He hated the stuff, but it would be at least a couple hours before he could head home to sleep, so he needed something to keep him awake.

While it percolated, he checked his phone. Three emails from work, two from the pack, and some spam. He’d just opened the first email when the phone rang.

“Porter Consulting.”

“Mr. Porter, it’s Deputy Palerma from the EKSD,” a male with a pleasant tenor said.

East Keddol was a small town several miles from Hapburgh, the city Marcus lived and worked in. It was in the interesting position of being almost perfectly between Hapburgh pack territory and Redview pack territory. Surprisingly few places fell into the odd in-between spaces between packs, and, as far as he knew, no one had developed any specific protocols for dealing with them.

“How can I help you today, Deputy?”

“We have a shifter—twenty-three-year-old male—who attacked his friends when he shifted for the first time. Miss Davidson recommended I call you.”

Kaelyn Davidson did for the Redview pack what Marcus did for the Hapburgh one. She was, if he remembered correctly, also a month or two out from giving birth. Handling an adult shifter who’d already hurt people was probably not high on her list of ways to spend her time.

“I see. Is your new shifter awake?”

“No. We had to hit him with a tranq to be able to bring him in. He’s changed back, but hasn’t woken up yet.”

Marcus snorted. Safety Departments were, mostly, better than the old police system, but sometimes they were still a little too trigger happy. At least it was a tranquilizer dart instead of a clip of bullets. “I’ll send someone to pick him up. He’s going to wake up before they get there, and he’s going to be cranky and hungry.”

“I’ve taken the class on shifters, Mr. Porter,” Deputy Palerma said, sounding offended. “There is a post-shift recovery kit in the fridge.”

He stifled a sighed. “If that’s all you have, that’s fine, but it would be better if the new shifter could get freshly made food. Eggs, nuts, oats, cottage cheese or Greek yogurt, and pumpkin seeds are best. Avoid meat, if possible, especially red meat.”

“I thought shifters need protein the morning after?”

“We do, and the foods I listed are all high protein items. New shifters can find meats to be… an issue at first. As I’m not able to speak with your young man at present, it’s better to be cautious.”

There was a moment of silence on the line before Palerma said, “Alright. Who will be coming, and when should we expect them?”

“It’ll depend on who is free.”

“Can’t you just tell someone to do it? You’re the alpha, aren’t you?”

Marcus had to grit his teeth to keep from groaning. That damn study from the 40s. “That’s not quite how things work. All pack members have proper ID.”

“Fine,” he said, the word ending with an annoyed click of his tongue.

“Thank you. Someone will be there between 10:30 and noon.”

Once they’d said their farewells, Marcus sent out a quick message through the pack’s group chat.

New shifter, East Keddol holding, possible alpha complex. Any takers?

He set the phone down and poured himself a cup of coffee, adding enough cream and sugar to make it mostly palatable, before settling on a stool at the tiny kitchen’s bar-height table. He’d drunk half the cup before a chime indicated he’d gotten a response. Two more chimes rang out before he’d picked the phone back up.

Eddie: I’m free but never handled an alpha complex b4 wdin2k?

Ksenia: lol take a muzzle

Julianne: y can’t the Reds take em?

Marcus rubbed the bridge of his nose, sighed, and replied: Kaelyn’s 8 mo. Pregnant. Take the green SUV, put him in the back, and keep the divider up.

Eddie: is it that dangerous?

Thomas: alpha-complexers are just assholes

Julianne: TOM! There are CHILDREN in this chat

Thomas: no regrets!

Marcus temporarily turned notifications off for the group chat, replied to the most important of the work emails, set up reminders for the other two, then headed for the cabin’s futon. By the time he’d make it to his apartment in the city, he’d barely have any time to sleep before he’d need to head back out to meet the new shifter. So he’d nap on the futon and feel stiff for most of the afternoon.

A little after 2pm, the rumbling and crunch of a vehicle coming up the gravel drive to the cabin announced the arrival of Eddie and the new shifter. Marcus set aside his laptop and headed out to the porch to greet them. He was still barefoot and wearing sweats and the long-sleeved shirt, but he’d run a trimmer through the beard so he felt less like a back-woods mountain man.

The car had barely come to a complete stop before the back door opened and a young man stepped out with a glower. He was around average height, with enough muscle mass to indicate he worked out at least somewhat regularly. Dark blond hair hung to his shoulders and a thick beard wrapped his jaw—though whether that was a stylistic choice or the moon driven change accelerating his hair growth even more than it did for Marcus was unclear.

“You Marcus?” the young man demanded.

He raised an eyebrow, crossed his arms, and leaned against one of the porch supports. “I am. And you are?”

“Joseph.”

He nodded and shifted his gaze to Eddie, who’d stepped around to the front of the SUV. “How was the drive?”

Eddie shrugged, his gaze darting to Joseph and then away. “S’okay. Wouldn’t want to do it again, though.”

“Don’t blame you. Thanks for doing it, though. See you next week for a run, okay?”

His shoulders relaxed and he smiled. “Of course. Later, Marcus.”

Joseph scoffed. “Like he would be any good.”

Marcus shook his head and stepped down off the porch. He was a little shorter than the new shifter, though broader in the shoulders and with more muscle mass. “You will respect each and every member of our pack, or you’ll be sent to Palstead Institution. It is not a pleasant introduction to being a shifter.”

“Whatever, man. Just give me whatever stupid speech you’ve got so I can challenge you.”

“There will be no ‘challenging’ here.”

“Fuck that. I ain’t no submissive bitch.”

“What you do or don’t do in the bedroom has no relevance to this situation.”

Red flooded Joseph’s face a moment before he took a swing at Marcus. He’d obviously had a little bit of training, but the movement was still too big to be truly effective.

Marcus side-stepped and twisted a little so that he had more leverage as he placed a palm against Joseph’s arm and pushed. It wasn’t a big push, but the kid had overextended himself and it knocked him off balance enough to make him stumble. He took a step back and waited for the next attack he knew would be coming.

Joseph didn’t disappoint. He came up swinging wildly, rushing toward him as if he couldn’t decide whether to beat his face in or tackle him to the ground.

Marcus calmly deflected each blow, leading Joseph in a circle as he side-stepped and backed away from the attacks. Less than a minute later, Jospeh was panting and struggling to even come close to landing any blows.

“Have you finished with your temper tantrum, yet?” Marcus asked.

Joseph glared at him but stopped, bending over with hands on knees as he panted.

“You seem to be under the misunderstanding that pack members fight each other. Different packs rarely even fight each other.”

“How…how do you know who’s alpha, then?”

“There is no ‘alpha.’ Not the way you’re thinking, anyway.”

“What?”

Marcus sighed and took a seat on the ground. The grass was soft and, thanks to a sunny morning, contained no hint of dampness. After a moment’s hesitation, Joseph slumped down as well. “Pack is family. Would you pick a fight with your dad to try and take over the family?”

“No…”

He shrugged. “Picking a fight with a pack member makes about as much sense. We each have a role to play, and that role is based on our skills and personality and knowledge. Not on who we’re able to beat up.”

“Aren’t we wolves? At least partly?”

“Yes. And that’s how wolves behave.”

Joseph stared at him blankly.

He sighed again. “Come inside. I’ll make you a tuna sandwich and you can read one of the brochures.”

Joseph followed him inside, silent, but with a simmering edge of anger beneath his exhaustion. Once the full moon was over and the forced changes weren’t sapping his energy, he would be a real pain in the ass if Marcus couldn’t nip the problem in the bud.

“Here,” he said, picking up a glossy tri-fold and handing it over. “Have a seat. Read. I’ll make the sandwiches.”

He settled onto a stool, shoulders hunched and brows drawn. “Why Alpha-Dog Theory is BS,” he read. “Seriously?”

“Mhm,” Marcus replied. “Some of the pack wanted to title it It’s Not Your Inner Wolf, You’re Just an Asshole, but that seemed a bit confrontational.”

“… Oh.”

“Mhm.”

(Moon-Bound - part 2)

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adsosfraser · 3 years

Text

The Stone’s Toll - Chapter Four

Read on AO3

cw: medical trauma/abuse

They stripped her to the bone and prodded her towards the corner with the spigot about a metre above her head. Their eyes were focused intently on her every move, calculating each misstep. One of her guards called out into the hall and the water surged down in high pressured spurts. She had been naked with strangers before. Had been dressed by them. Bare and vulnerable. Mrs. Fitz came to mind. But this was not anything like that, it felt demeaning, dehumanising. It was intended to humble her.

The other guard threw a bar of soap which Claire fumbled with and fell to the floor. The grime on the floor had built up for years and mould dotted the edges of the shower. She scrunched her nose at the thought of picking the soap up from such an environment, but the stares of the guards burrowed deep into her skin.

“Two minutes.”

Claire carefully traced the spot above her heart. It stung less than before when she was weaned off of the pain medication. Claire was heavily sedated for those six days in hospital. She felt like she had when she returned through the stones, a crushing weight bearing down on her body. And she was all alone. Her injury was monitored until she could be properly transferred to Danvers State Hospital, or rather the Danvers Lunatic Asylum, where they placed her unceremoniously in her cage-like room. The pounding force of the shower left a dull pain, almost opening the wound on her breast again. She scrubbed the dirt, the pain off of her skin until she felt she had no skin left.

Claire was soon in the plain cotton uniform they provided everyone. Her hair flew wildly above her head because she was unable to comb through her curls. They at least deemed her safe enough to not need restraints on top of the guards that flanked her. How kind. Those were reserved for the more violent afflictions.

She watched as her tangled curls floated down to the tiled floor around her feet. Her hair was shorn to about her chin to conform with the other patients.

The institute had yet decided what to do about her condition, which they concluded was melancholia and the hysteria which accompanied it. All unnecessary consequences of her female persuasion.

“I assure you, sir, I am perfectly fine. Now if I could just speak to my husband.” She forced herself to put out the last word.

“He is still considering the terms of your release and treatment. You gave Mr. Randall quite a shock.” Doctor Lionel Brown quirked his eyebrows at his patient, placing the pairs of his pointer and middle finger against his lips in thought.

“I know. Now if you’d just-“

A knock sounded at the door.

“Mr. Anderson you may come in.”

“Mrs. Randall, this is Mr. Anderson, our specialist in mood disorders. He’s shed some insight with me earlier about what may be best in order for you to be released. If you don’t mind, Mr. Anderson.”

“I think our electroshock therapies would be very conducive for her recovery. When repeated twice a week, these treatments help ease pain and reduce memories that are hard to pass on their own.” Anderson glanced at Doctor Brown and continued. “Another option if the treatments are unable to hold and improve your condition is the transorbital lobotomy which is guaranteed to permanently improve it. I can assure you ma’am this avenue has been thoroughly researched and our patients report a calm demeanour within weeks of the operation.

“I highly doubt that’s necessary sir.” Claire scoffed.

Claire slumped in her chair and considered for a second. She could be free of the pain, of the man who haunted her every waking moment. She could stop mourning her husband, her family at Lallybroch, and her children. Maybe she would forget and finally be able to return to Frank as Jamie had intended. But she could never forget Jamie, no matter what happened to her. Her mind may forget but her soul would always keep him within her.

It was four doors later that she reluctantly followed one of the nurse’s in the ward down the dreary halls. No matter her reluctance to it, her treatments would begin according to the doctor’s schedule.

Claire was instructed to take off her shoes as she entered the room. She glanced around the room only to be met with unfamiliar faces. She had comforted the woman who went before her who was convulsing and writhing on the treatment table. Claire tried to soothe her and soon her breathing evened out and a dazed look took over her face. There was no fighting this. If Claire refused to comply, it would be much worse. The woman slouched to the floor and began her walk away from the machine.

The orderly wiped off the metal table from the woman’s sweat and perhaps even a small amount of urine: the reactions to the terror. He sighed and wrote on the chart, detailing exactly how the patient’s body handled the treatment. He pointed to the table, not even sparing a glance at Claire. One. Two. Three. She thought as she forced each step. Her back and limbs arched away from the shocking cold of the metal and her muscles tensed reflexively.

The nurse placed a flat wooden stick in her mouth and instructed her to bite down. Her arms and legs were strapped down before she could change her mind and start thrashing against her jailer. Two firm ovals suctioned to her temples and a strap ran around her head securing the device to her head.

Perhaps it was her indifference that led them to choose this method of torture. She would be sure to smile and have all the warmth of a womanly countenance when she next met with Doctor Brown. Her fate depended on her first husband, and the doctor that held her hostage within the suffocating walls of the institution. She had made her feelings quite clear to Frank, and perhaps he was enacting his vengeance this way.

As the first wave of electricity passed through her body straight to her heart and mind, her body convulsed under its strain. After the base time of thirty seconds for her treatment, her body slumped back down onto the cold surface that sent chills down her spine. She was left disoriented and stupid, waiting to gain back her senses.

“Who’s this, Smiley?” Claire’s mind could barely discern the shape of the figure hanging on the doorframe before her. The glum nurse who was addressed was the farthest thing from smiley.

“Mrs. Randall, your newest neighbour.”

“Oh, how exciting!” The girl who couldn’t be more than fourteen slipped something into the nurse’s pocket. “I think I’ll call you Miss Curly Wig.” She grinned and eyed the mess of curls fanned out around on the silver surface enviously.

The orderly nonchalantly slipped a lollipop into the girl’s waiting hands and a piece of gum, payment for whatever she had smuggled in for him.

“You’ll be just fine Miss Curly Wig.” The girl who was barely a teenager patted her shoulder in comfort. Claire couldn’t do more than stare blankly at the girl, no words appearing on her tongue. “Sure the first one is a bit of a shock. But you get over it. Your brain is like cotton the first few days, and you look as dumb as ever, but if you comply, they shorten it to every three weeks instead. I haven’t gotten the shock in four weeks now because I’ve been on my best behaviour. Haven’t had the urge to steal in months. Isn’t that right Smiley?”

Smiley grunted affirmatively in a way that reminded her of Murtagh while he put away the equipment from the day’s treatments. Her heart ached along with her head and tears pricked at the corner of her eyes.

“Can I escort her back to her room Smiley? You are done here for the day, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Miss Emily.” The nurse clearly was uncomfortable straying from protocol.

Claire walked back in silence to the plain white room, filled with only a white metal bed and mattress. Emily patted her hand on the sheets and Claire plopped down on them. The rambunctious child flitted out of the room, excited to find a new face in the dreary and tedious schedule of the ward.

Claire laid back against the stiff pillow of her twin bed. It was impossible to get comfortable here. Her brain was buzzing and her fingers felt tingly, like the static from the radio. In the night, when the other patient's cries filled her mind, she traced the fading scar on her palm where he cut her. The rings, sgian dubh, pearls and her old clothes were the only physical proof it had been real. Now she had none of them. No tangible proof in her grasp. The only reminder was the memory of the slight pain when he marked out the flesh into a J.

“Milady!” Fergus screamed into the empty air of the great room. His body curled up into one of the velvet chaises by the fire and his whimpers woke Jamie, who rested his eyes on the floor beside the inconsolable child. Jamie had almost drifted off to sleep himself, but his mind buzzed with thoughts of his wife. He rose and gathered Fergus in his arms, hushing the boy.

“Milady.” The tears renewed themselves and tumbled without end down his cheeks. Jamie stroked the hair from his son’s face and cursed when his hand felt the hot and sweaty skin.

Claire woke up shaking on the sweat-soaked sheets. “Fergus.” Her guilt of leaving him, her family was insurmountable. But she felt deep in her bones something terribly awful. A dread that squeezed at her heart. Just like any other person could feel the earth shift under their feet, before possessing the actual knowledge of what happened to their loved one. A fellow war nurse once told her of her premonitions, and the next day she was sent an impersonal letter declaring his death in battle.

She pressed the pillow against her ears, trying to block out the vivid visions of the young French boy.

Emily became an ally to Claire in the short amount of time she had been in the B ward. She followed her constantly like a lost puppy and accompanied her to the electroshock therapies every week. Claire supposed the girl had deemed her the sanest out of their fellow patients, so she must have felt more at ease in her presence. The girl had even taught Claire a neat trick, how to pretend to swallow her medicine and then spit it out later.

At night, the faces in the flecks of the popcorn ceiling above taunted her. Every move of the shadows was a demon reimagined in her mind. Of her family and those who wished her harm. They all played an equal role in the play stretched out before her. Two straight lines and a curve mixed together into one evil, Black Jack Randall and her husband. Her mind drifted to the sight of her son, curled up and shivering in his sickbed. She was stuck between the tormenting images in the ceiling or the all too real feel of Fergus’ small body pressed against her in a tight hug.

“Miss Curly Wig!” It took her a moment to recognise her young companion, the thoughts seeped slowly through her mind like molasses.

“Where on earth did you get these?”

“I filched them from Doc B when I was snooping through your files. I was going to trade them to Smiley, but I thought better. Hide them in your bra, they never look there.” The child winked at her.

“Thanks for the advice.” She slipped the silver down her shirt and was about to scatter the gold across the wooden boards of the floor when she thought better; it was a valuable chunk of money. “What do you want in return?”

“Nothing yet. But those locks of yours sure are pretty.”

“You want a lock of my hair?”

She stared at the child dumbfounded. Hers easily rivalled Claire’s, the fiery red waving around her ears and growing slowly towards her shoulders. What harm was there in giving a child a piece of a muddied brown curl? She gripped a strand of her hair from the base of her head and held it taut. Claire ripped the piece just below the hold her hand had on it so it wouldn’t be plucked directly from her scalp. Her palms opened, gifting the rare thing to the adolescent. Her face visibly brightened and she snatched it immediately. She tucked in safely within her shirt like Claire had done with her rings and skipped down the hall towards the dark wood staircase.

Claire plastered a sickly sweet smile as she sat on the plastic chair. Dr. Brown shuffled some papers on his desk and ignored her. He licked his finger to card through the pages and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He cleared his throat before finally acknowledging her.

“Ah, Mrs. Randall. And what, might I ask, lead me to the pleasure of seeing you in my office today?”

“As you can see, Dr. Brown, the treatments have worked splendidly and I would very much like to return home now. I see no need to be kept here further.”

“I’m sorry ma’am it’s just not how- oh looky here! Your husband signed for your release when he visited me yesterday.”

“Great, so now this has all been sorted.”

“Just hold on Mrs. Randall.” He emphasised her proper name. “Yes, he’s clearly signed your release here, but we’ll need to keep you here for an observation period of at least three more days. Make sure you’ll do no more harm to yourself or others. But, you’ll be glad to know we have seen an improvement from your treatments, and your last one will be this Friday, a day before your release.”

She bit her tongue to hold back the avalanche of defiant words and insults she wanted to fling at the man who held her fate in his hands. Finally, she settled for a simple, “thank you,” and left back to the empty halls.

The bastards in the hospital had made zero progress in truly helping her. If she was asked, Claire knew she wouldn’t be able to recall any detail at all about the last few months of her life. If she could call it that, she was dead living. The therapies only added to her already failing memory. Emily was the only bright part of her day, and now she was leaving the poor girl in the hands of these people alone.

Her final night, when her brain sludged forward through its thoughts, a consequence of her treatments, she finally allowed herself to relax back into her bed fully. But that was a mistake. Fergus sat before the fire at Lallybroch, playing soldier with some chess pieces. The sight of the son of her heart pierced through her chest. He turned around and smiled at her softly.

“Come back, Milady, please. Milord needs you. I miss you maman.” He had never called her maman before, only Milady.

On closer inspection, his eyes were wide with fear at the apparition before him. He knew Milady would never harm him, but there was something otherworldly about her appearance now, much different than her usual strange demeanour. Sensing his trepidation, she kissed his forehead gently, taking the pain and fear into herself from that small point where her lips met his curl that dangled there. A tear dripped down the edge of her nose to his cheek. A flash of red and blue entered the dream, but by then she was already awake.

#outlander fanfiction #adsofraser writing #claire beauchamp #claire fraser #jamie x claire #frank randall #insane asylum #fergus fraser #canon divergence #jamie fraser #medical trauma #I am inflicting pain onto my characters because I can #outlander fanfic

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needs-to-stop-looking-at-yigas · 3 years

Note

*strokes the amazing Yiga Scribe's ego and offers the best bananas* May I submit a request? I'm neutral on mpreg but I'm HUGE on big belly kink. I got to thinking, what about a scene that takes place in your mpreg AU, where Kohga is 9 months pregnant with the triplets and just... HUGE and Sooga just can't handle how sexy he thinks that is? Love and bananes! 🍌🍌🍌❤️❤️❤️

*sighs in pregnancy kink* let's get Sooga horny as SHIT.

Sooga was a lucky man. He was in a relationship with a man who was as beautiful as bananas were delicious. Nice, beautiful hands, the most incredible looking face, and, most sexy of all; he was baring his children. Boys, and THREE of them.

"Aaand we're done! Wonderful job, Master Kohga!"

"I. Hate. Everything."

Kohga had agreed to do some light work outs, mainly in the form of yoga, and even though he complained every time, his Master hadn't skipped a day. Even if it was a struggle. Sooga saw it as Kohga laid against his front, absolutely exhausted. Sooga kissed his head, absolutely in love with his flushed husband.

"But you did SO well today. I'm so proud of you!"

"Uh huh. Can we fucking EAT now?"

Kohga was ALWAYS hungry, and Sooga couldn’t blame him; growing three, strapping boys was a full time job, no wonder he was so cranky.

"Absolutely you may. What would you like?"

"I want ice cream. Definitely. With nuts. And carmel."

"I think I remember the kitchen making brownies earlier, would you like some?"

"YES. In the ice cream. And banana slices-"

"At the very end, or they'll get soggy. I'm aware, my Master. Do you need to be carried to the room?"

"You ain't gonna let me walk soon as I squeeze these bastards out, might as well get some steps in. I uh, could use some help standing up."

Sooga nodded. His poor husband, so heavy and dependent on him. He reached out his arm, allowing Kohga to hold onto him. He helped walk him to the room, carefully, before he felt Kohga smack at his shoulder.

"What'd I do?"

"You're GROWLING at people, Sooga."

"I am? I didn't even notice. Well, their fault regardless, everyone keeps looking as if they want to touch your stomach."

"YOU touch it?"

"I'm their father. Everyone but me and you have no right to touch them. But, I will try to remain civil."

Sooga opened the door for Kohga, allowing him to walk inside. Sooga made eye contact with Cil, before flipping him the bird. Damn vulture. He shut the door behind him, helping Kohga to the bed, fluffing the pillows as he liked it.

"Ugh...my goddamn feet. I swear this shit hurts."

"Would you like me to rub your feet?"

"I'd like you to get the goddamn ice cream I asked for."

"You're adorable ~"

Such an attitude. He kissed his forehead, before excusing himself to the kitchen. And as usual, EVERYONE working there were excited to get ANY news to spread around the clan (the cooks were such gossips queens)

"Sooga! How's Kohga?"

"Anything new to report?"

"He's doing well. He's hungry. I need ice cream, you know, the sundaes he likes."

They nodded, working together to make quite the pretty sundae. Stuffed to the brim with ice cream, carmel sauce, nuts, thick brownies, whipped cream, and sliced bananas, on the side of course. They handed him the tray, and Sooga was about to leave, when they added something else to the tray; crispy salmon skin. Kohga, much to his anger, had grown to like fish since his pregnancy. Salmon skin was the new banana chip. They gave him a little wave, before he excused himself.

He stepped back into the room, and set the ice cream down before adding the bananas, and presenting it to Kohga.

"FINALLY. These fuckheads are STARVED."

Kohga tucked into his dessert happily, and it warmed Sooga’s heart. He looked so happy.

"Is that all? I'd uhm...like to rest, my feet h-"

"No, they fucking don't, just SAY you wanna cuddle, you fuckshit."

It was true. Sooga never really felt body pains (at least not enough to complain), he just didn't know how to ask for cuddles, especially with grumpy Kohga, but Kohga just. Knew him well enough to know what he wanted, always. Sooga crawled into bed, super careful as he rested his chin on his belly (he would prefer his chest, but Kohga smacked him with a spoon last time, so). He watched lovingly as Kohga helped himself to his cold treat. Cheeks rosey and stuffed, just like his bare belly. The yiga attire was meant to stretch for any size, but Kohga needed a change ever since his six month mark.

A see through robe, thin enough to breathe and move around in. It screamed 'pregnant mom', given the style, but to Sooga, it was INCREDIBLY sexy.

"Are you three liking the ice cream too? Is it too cold? Are you getting brain freeze? Can babies get a brain freeze?"

Kohga swallowed his last bite, before putting his empty cup on the night stand next to them. He sighed, damn near annoyed.

"Dunno. But I know they give ME a headache. AND you. God what if they're like your dumbass?"

"I agree. I sincerely hope they're going be like you. Strong, wonderful, kind, TERRIBLY handsome-"

He stopped once Kohga lightly winced. He panicked for a moment, before settling down.

"Sorry. Little shits are hyper as fuck."

"You DID just give them ice cream, and lots of it. It's adorable. All of it is. Gods you're perfect."

He leaned down to kiss his bare belly (he accidentally pulled up his shirt, believe him), humming in content.

"Sooga?"

"Hmm?"

"Your boner is literally pressing against my leg right now."

Sooga looked down at himself. He was right. He cleared his throat, feeling embarrassed.

"I...sorry. You're just. So big, and voluptuous and beautiful and SO full with my pups-"

"Fucks sake, Sooga, just. Jerk off already."

Suffice to say, this wasn't the first time Sooga had been aroused by the situation, so Kohga was used to his man's bullshit. Sooga would have insisted he didn't need it but his erection proved otherwise. He swung his legs over Kohga, and made his body hold itself up. Wouldn’t want to hurt the little ones, afterall. He pulled himself out of his clothes, slowly starting to pump his cock. And Kohga just. Stared. Stared in a sort of 'I'm above you' mentality that he seemed to gain upon his pregnancy.

And Sooga LOVED it. He was merely tolerating him, gracing him in his grandeur.

"You always take so fucking long with this. You got a nice looking cock, and you do jack shit with it."

Sooga chuckled, pushing the tip of his cock and forcing precum to leak onto his hand. He was careful as he loomed over him, wanting to see every bit of him. His face, his chest, his big, wonderful, incredible, gorgeous stomach. Everything.

"The better to savor you with, my Master. The better to appreciate you with. The better to see the absolute beauty that your womb-"

He was silenced when Kohga leaned up a bit, and pulled his hair tie out of his hair, letting it fall. Sooga wished he could take a picture of this moment. Of Kohga laying there, tired of him, holding his hair tie in his hand as if he were trash. Yet, the smirk at his lips let him subtly know he was loved. The great faeries wished they looked as big and beautiful as he did.

"Sooga. You're a sweetheart, really. But GOD shut the fuck up and just cum on me, I need a nap like, yesterday."

"Of course my Master, sincere apologies on my part. I'll finish, without much grandeur. Provided...I have a little assistance?"

He asked, hopeful. Either he'd get a hand, or a hand to the back of the head. Kohga scoffed in disbelief.

"Fucking hell, stomach kink son of a-FINE."

He offered his hand to him. Just his open hand. That was enough. He took his hand in his own, using his hand to help him stroke his cock. Oh the way it made a shiver run down his spine. It was all he needed. He took no more than a minute or so (too long for Kohga’s taste), before he finally got what he wanted. A hot, creamy load on his belly in plentful ribbons. Oh sweat never felt so good.

"Shit...thank you, Master Kohga. Truly. I needed that."

"Yeah yeah yeah. You done fawning over me?"

"Never. You look like a big, lovely cinnamon roll~"

Kohga wiped his hand on Sooga’s stomach, clicking his tongue.

"You're awful. Lay down with me already, you need a nap too."

Sooga let himself fall on his side, before clinging tightly onto Kohga. Sooga didn't clean up his mess, and it was something they were both okay with.

"...Master Kohga?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you...think they'll like me?"

"They should. I know I do."

"Even when I just can't leave you alone?"

"Yeah, even then. SOMEONE has to fuss over me."

Sooga pressed his lips against his messy, hairy tummy.

"I'll fuss over them as well. Till the end of time. My...family. All mine, to safeguard, and protect with my life."

Kohga rolled his eyes, running his fingers through his hair. It always did help him fall asleep.

"And I'll teach them how to deal with adoring idiots like you."

Sooga lovingly stroked and loved at his plumpness. Beautiful.

"Have we thought of names?"

"They're yours, so Dumb, Dumber, and Dumbfuck."

He was about to interject, when they both felt one of them kick. Kohga laughed, his legs flailing wildly.

"THEY LIKE IT! THAT'S IT, THAT'S THEIR NAMES!"

"Master Kohga please-"

"Listen, I spent nine months with these fucks mooching off of me, the LEAST I can do is give them the funniest fucking names."

"I...love you, Master Kohga."

He didn't know what family life entailed. He just knew he was ready.

#asks #kohga #sooga #lemon #kohga got SUCH an attitude upon the pregnancy #and it just. makes soogas heart go doki doki

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modern-vellichor · 3 years

Text

Withdrawal

Chapter One

Summary: Shes broken and bruised, and so are they. But at least she can't remember when shes sad; but god can they.

Warning: Substance abuse, alcohol, cigarettes, smoking, implied smut, self deprecation, self hate, destructive behaviour

Pairing: Steve x reader

"Trust me, Rogers", Tony sighs into Steve's ear as they push and shove through the crowd of stone-drunks and druggies.

"If you're finding her in a place like this, I don't think we should trust her", Steve states back.

Purple and blue light dances around them, and so do the nearly naked bodies of the 20-somethings surrounding them. The air reeked of sweat and cheap vodka, crushed pills and fine white powder dusted almost every surface, and smoke wafted all around them.

They really needed help. Something was coming, and they couldn't figure out how to stop it. Every day was the same: wake up, new theory, failed theory, repeat. Tony got so fed up that he decided to finally call on an old friend for help, except she didn't answer. She never called him back, or answered his texts, or his emails. And so he hunted her down, and now they were pushing their way through a sweaty and drugged up crowd of young adults in a sketchy bar.

Then they reached it, a doorway covered with a thin mesh curtain. A group of people, younger, all in their early twenties. A girl who was very clearly in charge sat in the middle of all of them, one hand gripped a cigarette loosely, it looked at home between her fingers, the other was latched around the back of a petite boys neck, small and blonde and so desperate to please her - to please you.

Your skin has a grey tinge to it, gaunt and daunting. Your eyes were dull and hazy, dark circles prominent. You looked ill, but you grinned nonetheless.

You brought the cigarette to your lips, inhaling with a small grin, unaware of the three men towering in the doorway, Bucky had joined them on the mission. They watched as the blonde boy passed a violently green pill to you, and you opened your mouth for him, sticking your tongue out, and playfully biting his finger before you swallowed the drug whole.

Tony coughed. He looked at home, and Bucky showed no emotion, but Steve was wildly uncomfortable, and apparently it showed.

You downed the last of the amber liquid in a glass on the small table, before gently shoving your boytoy away and standing up. You swayed for a moment before steadying and making your way to the group.

"You shouldn't have brought blondie over here, Stark. This isn't his scene, look at him", you scolded softly, the corners of Steve's mouth lifted slightly. You turned to him before speaking again, hazy eyes meeting his. "Let's go somewhere a little more quiet, yeah?"

The group nodded and you lead them through the crowd until you descended a staircase and made your way into a sleek looking room, and silence settled comfortably over the group. You discarded your cigarette along the way and so you made yourself comfortable on the leather chair behind the desk and lit another.

The three men got comfortable on a little leather couch. Tony sighed.

"How bad is it gonna be tomorrow?", he asked softly.

"Real bad", you chuckled dryly.

Steve wasn't so sure what Tony meant, but he was almost sure that he was talking about the aftermath of whatever you had taken. Bucky still stayed emotionless.

"How much have you had?", Tony asked again.

"Enough that if I have any more I think I might just die", again you laughed, you had an air of clear nonchalance about the whole situation. You seemed completely aware of everything, yet your pupils were dilating rapidly, and you were slurring your words, and swaying when you stood.

"So, Tony and the Golden Boys", you chided. "What do you want?"

"We need your help", Steve pleaded. You looked as if you would have argued relentlessly if Tony had asked the same, but your hazy eyes met his baby blues and you smiled.

"Tomorrow", you said, and Tony nodded.

"C'mon, Y/N, let's get you home, yeah?", you stamped out the cigarette and nodded, gladly falling into Steve's arms. The men carried you out of the bar and into the car they had come in, and took you back to the compound. Steve had let you stay in his room, tucking you into bed and sitting awake on the uncomfortable plastic desk chair he never used, just in case something happened in the night and he slept through it.

It was three in the morning when she began to shake lightly and broke out into cold sweats. Steve got a little nervous, but simply sat himself against the headboard and left you alone. After a half hour, you were shaking uncontrollably and drenched in sweat. Steve was trying desperately to calm you down, he had a cold face cloth over your forehead, and was running a hand through your hair and cooing softly. And when that didnt work, he scooped you into his arms and ran until he found Tony. The panic only really set in when Tony couldnt stop it either. Tony feigned calmness and dialed an unfamiliar number into his phone. Steve narrowed his eyes when the blonde boy from earlier waltzed in.

He surveyed the scene with mild interest before pulling a familiar orange bottle out of his pocket, he slipped one into your mouth and you swallowed instinctively. Less than twenty minutes passed before you had fallen back into a peaceful sleep.

"What's your name, kid?", Steve grunted as the boy turned to leave.

"Luca. Oh, by the way", he turned and threw the bottle at Steve. "These are for when she gets antsy"

"How do I know when to give her one?"

"Oh, you'll know", and with that he was gone.

When Steve woke the next morning, you and Tony had already started working in the conference room. Papers and Manila folders scattered across the table.

You worked in silence, the three of you together, until you found a lead, and the three of you gathered the necessary people and set off.

You drove in silence, dusk settling over the city. It was well near dark by the time Tony stopped outside of a sketchy looking club.

"You sure this is the place?", he said to you, surveying the building with care. Bucky was in the backseat next to Steve, and he watched you intently, Steve noted this.

You pulled out your phone, double checked something typed into your notes and nodded, getting out of the car.

You took one last look of the building before pulling off your sweater throwing it into the car. You unbuttoned your shirt and tied it up, pulling your sweatpants to your hip bones and smudging your mascara. Then you turned to Bucky with puppy dog eyes; "Bucky, can I borrow your jacket?"

He shrugged the heavy leather off without a second thought, throwing it gently around your shoulders.

"Why is it so important for you to look the part?", Steve asked, he came off more hostile than intended, thrown off by Bucky's gentle actions.

"Because if I look the part", you shook out your hair until it was messy and wild. "You don't have to"

You lit a cigarette and waltzed in like you owned the place, Bucky close behind, Tony and Steve keeping their distance. You were at home in the atmosphere, taking everything and anything offered to you as you pushed through the crowd, until you were shaking your head 'no', and leaning on Bucky for support. But still, you had a clear head and a mission, and made your way to the tall man with dark hair who dominated the back section of the club.

"Duke?", you asked sternly, he towered over you, but you crossed your arms and kept a straight face, Bucky looming behind your shoulder.

"Who's asking?", he shot back.

Steve watched from a distance as the two of you talked and eventually argued, and then followed you out of the club when you turned on your heel and stormed out. He was also the first to join you in your room after you had left for the evening.

He knocked gently, peeking around the corner and shuffling in. He sat at the edge of your bed, and when you patted the mattress next to you, had gotten comfortable against the headboard. You curled into his side. He hesitantly threw an arm around your shoulders and you only nuzzled further into him. You fell asleep like that, wrapped around each other.

Over the coming weeks you became dependant on him, and he worried about you. He worried when you came home drunk out of your mind or stoned to the edge of oblivion, but you always sobered up. It was the late nights that scared him, when you had already fallen asleep and begun to shake, and the only thing that seemed to stop it was the little green pills that he kept on him at all times.

He had been taught from the very beginning that addicts needed help, so slowly but surely he reduces your dose, crushing the pill and only giving you fractions of it. Until it was half, and you still seemed to be fine.

The weeks went on and your work piled up. You hardly ever left your desk, you and Tony working side by side, day through night. Steve spent his nights cold and alone and longing for you back in his bed. With your nights spent huddled up under dim lamp light, you hardly had any time to go out. You stole a few minutes for a cigarette on the roof every few hours, but that was all. Steve couldn't help but smile knowing how much better you were.

You looked constantly tired, but your smile was brighter and wider. Pictures of you and Tony lined the walls of your cramped little office.

Every few days you disappeared, saying your were checking up on your cramped little apartment. You always came back with a fresher air about you, happy and doe eyed. Steve longed to be invited on your little day trips to whatever life you hid from him. He didnt want to only be your night life, to be the only thing you could depend on when stash grew low. He dropped subtle hints here and there, little suggestions. He wondered if your house was anything like you. If its walls were bright and it was clean, or if it was unorganised and dark, curtains drawn permanently shut.

One day he found out. You couldnt find your car keys and asked Steve for a ride. He was more than eager to help, talking nonstop the short drive there. Your apartment was small, cramped. It was neat. Plants littered every surface, all alive and thriving.

"How are your plants still alive?", he pondered aloud.

"Luca waters them for me"

Steve sighed internally. Although Luca hardly ever came up in conversation, his existence plagued Steve. He couldnt get the image of how eager he was to please you, of how you held so much power over him. He didnt dare to imagine what the two of you had done previous to your introduction. He was lost in his self destructive train of thought the entire visit. When you grabbed his bicep and gave a reassuring squeeze, he was pulled back to reality and you returned to the compound.

You slipped into his room that evening. He could smell the hint of old whiskey and smoke on your breath, but he didnt mind. He drank you up, swallowing you whole. He crowded you into the mattress until you sang a song that was only for him. He was sweet and soft, but so distant once it ended. You could never forget, thighs rubbed raw from the scratch of his beard, lungs aching from lack of breath. But he simply rolled over and fell asleep. Some evenings, he would hold you close and tight and never let go, keep you tight there. Most, though, you had to curl against the broad expanse of your back and hope for some attention in return. And it never came on nights like this, but you tried anyway.

You were gone in the morning, as per usual, but he couldnt find you elsewhere. Not could he find Tony or Bucky, and that's when he realised that they had left without him.

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thephantomofthe-internet · 4 years

Text

Read into Me Chapter 10: That Mad Ache

Steve Harrington x Reader

CATCH UP ON THE SERIES HERE

Words: 2,266

Warnings: ANGST FRIENDS THIS ONES NOT FUN

Series Tag: @divinity-deos @thecaptainsgingersnap @wolfish-willow @scoopsohboi @herre-gud-nej @clockworkballerina @maddie1504 @i-am-trash-so-much-its-scary @buckysarge @wildcvltre @stanleyyelnatsiii @n3wtscaseofniffler5 @peterparxour @a-big-ball-of-idk @asharpkniffe @used-avocado @mochminnie @sledgy14 @the-creative-lie @yall-wildin-like-siriusly @ggclarissa @boredoomfm @voidnarnia @the-passionate-freak @awkwardnesshabitat @darkcrystal-wolf @hannahrisacher

You didn’t exactly know where you were going, but you didn’t care. You had the windows rolled down, Elton John crooning on the radio, and your bare feet up on the seat. Steve had taken off his tie and jacket, popping open the top three buttons on his dress shirt. His hair was blowing in the breeze and you could see his chest hair peeking out from under the thin material of his shirt. He looked hot. You were drunk on adrenaline and you felt like kissing him. You were hyperaware of your lips, of his. You almost reached over to kiss him. But you didn’t.

“Where are we going?” you called over the wind in your ears.

Steve turned and looked at you with a cheeky grin. He’d pulled in around the community pool, long closed. “You wanna go swimming?” he asked.

“Won’t we get caught?” you asked. You didn’t bother to mention your lack of swimwear. You weren’t naïve as to what he was suggesting and you weren’t uninterested in the idea.

“Nah, the cops are more interested in stopping teen drinking after the dance ends than sneaking into the pool.” Steve replied with a shrug, parking the car at the farthest end of the lot, under a heavy looking evergreen. You nodded, popping the door open. Steve grinned, following you as you made your way into the pool. As expected, the back gate was locked with a heavy padlock and chain, but the fence was easily jumped, barely seven feet tall, Steve barely had to climbed to reach the top and then up and over. The fence was a bit taller than you compared to Steve, but you hooked your bare feet into the latticed metal and heaved yourself up, pausing briefly at the top to take in a heavy breath before throwing your other leg over the top and shimmied down.

The pavement below was dry and harsh, long dried out from last summer. Hawkins still couldn’t be bothered to install an automated cover for the pool, draining it in the winter and leaving it uncovered for the rest of the year. It was a costly cheap fix, but it came in handy now. The long plastic line lanes had been pulled out and roped up on large barrels near the clubhouse and the lights along the pool walls turned the water ominously yellow along the edges. The lights above the pool had been turned off, but the street lamps along the road and in the parking lot lit up the area enough to see.

Steve swallowed hard. The woods were too close. He didn’t like darkness that loomed there; the unknown had too many options now. Those damned dogs could still be out there. He hadn’t seen where they’d gone. They’d all just run off. He hadn’t seen one since but on the nights where he couldn’t sleep he’d sit and watch out his windows to try to spot anything in those woods. He didn’t like the way the trees moved in the wind, especially with bleary, sleep deprived eyes. Now he was a bit too close. Cold sweat pricked his skin.

You reached behind your back and pulled down the zipper of your dress. You felt self conscious of yourself. You’d never stripped for a man, even really around a man. Still, you’d decided to do it. You pushed off the straps of your dress, letting it slip off your body and fall to the pavement below you. You dove into the water, icy cold on your skin.

Steve heard the splash. He whipped around, looking for a demo-dog about to strike. He didn’t know if they could swim and he didn’t want to find out. Instead he saw you burst through the water, your hair wet and slicked to your skull. Your makeup had smeared and your lips slightly blue. “You coming?” you asked, gasping for air to fill your cold body. Steve swallowed hard, nodding quickly. He kicked off his dress pants and unbuttoned his dress shirt. He jumped in fast, putting his focus on the beautiful, nearly naked girl in the water with him. In the back of his mind, he was wired. It wasn’t so much a fight or flight but more a protective urge. If anything happened, he’d made up his mind that he’d protect you over himself. He’d done it before for those kids, he’d do it again.

He burst out of the water in front of you with a splash. You laughed loudly, tipping your head back. Steve shook his head wildly, his hair flicking water over your face and neck. You squealed, pushing him away, swimming off to the other side of the pool.

“Aw come on, I thought you liked it wet,” he joked, swimming after you.

“Oh I do,” you started, turning to move away from the wall. Steve trapped you between his arms.

“Oh yeah? Tell me more…” he drawled. Moonlight was caught in your eyes. Or maybe that was street lights. It didn’t really matter; he could spend the rest of his life drinking you in.

You demurred, turning your head away from him. You ran a hand through your soaked hair. “Isn’t that a bit vain?” you asked.

“Sue me…” Steve chuckled, lowering his head to watch you carefully.

You conceded, leaning your elbows against the edge of the pool to hold yourself up. “I like your hair, wet or dry…I like your eyes and your smile…and…” you paused, humming slightly to mull over whether or not you should you should admit. “I like your arms.” You said simply, almost decidedly.

“My arms?” Steve was bemused. He expected to be flattered, and he was, but he didn’t expect a mention to his arms.

“Yeah, they’re strong and warm, I find them endlessly comforting.” You shrugged, reaching out a hand to caress his wrist gently. Your fingers had pruned, but your touch was warm, it sent tingles up his spine. You lifted his hand off the pool side, swimming under it and across the pool.

Steve turned to watch you go past. “And I like…” he said in a sing-song tone, putting his finger to his chin and cocking his head to the side.

“Oh no, I don’t really need to-” you started, holding up your hands defensibly.

“I like your laugh,” Steve said, cutting you off. “And your hands, even though they’re always covered in grey smudges, because you can make beautiful things with them. And I like eyes. You have nice eyes.”

You felt yourself colour. You didn’t know how to handle compliments, you didn’t get them often enough to be used to them. “Thank you…” you murmured. Steve once again trapped you. He felt warm against your skin, dizzying delicious. You wanted to stay there forever, but your mind screamed at you to run. His mouth hovered over yours, inching closer to yours. Your eyes fluttered shut. You wanted so badly to kiss him.

Instead, you pressed a hand to his bare chest, pushing him back. “Steve, wait,” you began.

Steve’s heart dropped “I thought…”

“I know, but I can’t, I haven’t told you yet…” your heart was breaking in your chest. You didn’t think this would be as difficult as this. You hadn’t expected everything to be so perfect.

“Told me what?” Steve narrowed his eyes. He didn’t know what you were about to say, but he didn’t like it. He’d already dealt with Nancy sneaking around with Jonathan Byers behind his back; he didn’t want to be made a fool again.

“I’m…leaving.”

“What?”

“I’m leaving Hawkins.” You sighed, pushing yourself onto the edge of the pool, letting the cold bitter night air sting your skin. “I’m meeting my mother in Paris. I’ve applied to the city’s school of the arts.”

Steve didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t imagined you going anywhere. You pressed on to fill the gap. “I don’t really know when I’ll be back here, it’ll all depend on if I get into the school and so I don’t want to lead you on or start something here when I’m leaving so soon.” You explained awkwardly.

“When are you leaving?” Steve managed to ask, swallowing hard.

“Right after graduation,” you said. Steve groaned loudly, an anguished cry. “I wanted to leave the first week of June but a part of the application process is working for a month in this sort of salon. It’s not like teaching its showing what you can do in real time. I have to leave right after exams and graduation to get there in time.”

The sound of a car speeding past drew in both your attention. You both became hyperaware that you were trespassing on city property. “We should go.” Steve said coldly, heaving himself out of the pool. You grabbed your dress off the pavement. Steve followed suit with his own dress clothes, pulling his dress shirt over his wet skin. You both hopped the fence again, walking in silence to his car. You felt distressingly naked compared to Steve, who was pulling back on his pants. Instead of going to the driver’s side to unlock the car, he popped the trunk and pulled out an oil marked Hawkins High sweatshirt from under the bat. He tossed it at your head and shut the trunk.

“Thank you…” you muttered, placing your dress on the roof of his car and pulled on the sweatshirt greedily. You drank in the warmth of the material, blocking out the cold air on your arms and chest. Steve unlocked his door and reached inside to pop the lock on your side. You pulled open your door and grabbed your dress, tossing it onto the floor of the car. You stepped in, shutting out the night as Steve started up the car.

You drove in silence for awhile. Then, Steve spoke “So, how long have you known?” he asked.

“A couple weeks, around the same time you asked me to prom.” You replied. Steve nodded, turning his attention back to the road. You could’ve cut the tension with a butter knife. “Do you hate me?” you asked.

Steve sighed “No, I don’t think I could hate you. But I wish you told me sooner.”

“I didn’t want to ruin prom…” you turned your attention to the window “And I didn’t think you liked me back…”

“So you’re just gone after this?” Steve asked, turning down your shared street. You silently wished he’d acknowledged your feelings. That’s he’d even look at you. You his gaze stayed fixed on the road ahead and his mouth pulled into a tight, thin line.

“I might be,” you turned to look at Steve fully “If I get in, then I’ll have the option to go for their four year program. But if I don’t get in, I’ll be back by early July.”

“And if you get in?” Steve turned into his own driveway, turning off the engine but not moving.

“Then I’d come home for Christmas...” that wasn’t a certain thing, your mother didn’t come home for the holiday and with assignments you weren’t certain you’d be back either, but setting a time frame for your homecoming made the whole thing feel more certain.

Steve nodded again. He was chewing on the inside of his cheek, not really looking at you, more the skyline behind your head. He was upset to say the least. Not necessarily at you, he understood why you hadn’t told him, but a bit of resentment harboured in the pit of his stomach. You were about to get out of this shit hole, to go on an adventure of your own. And he hadn’t even gotten into college. He was stuck here. He hated the universe for fucking with him, for showing him a new start and then taking it away.

“Steve,” you reached for the door. You needed to both be there with him and hidden away in your room. “Ask me to stay and I will.”

Steve turned to look at you. He saw the fear in your eyes, how pale you’d gone. You looked terrified and he was certain that it wasn’t of him. “Ask me and I will.” You repeated, nodding your head slightly.

Steve wanted desperately to say yes. To have you stay with him for the summer. But he knew it wouldn’t be fair. “No,” he breathed “I can’t do that, Y/N.”

“Yes you can, I’m telling you that you can.” You sounded desperate. You felt desperate. Every part of you was begging to stay exactly where you were. For the first time in your life, things were starting to turn up for you. Before now, you could’ve left everything behind easily. Now everything was more complicated. You were scared of the future, of what lay ahead in France. Steve was a way out, an escape from the change already set into motion. Your mother would understand she’d given up on so many things for men; her modelling career for your father, a second chance on it for an ex-fiancé, photo shoots and interviewers with designers for various flings. You giving up a chance at art school for Steve felt okay.

“No, no you have to go. You’re too good to not try this.” He rubbed your cheek with his thumb before turning away from you. Your heart broke, your hopes shattered on the floor at your feet. You bundled up your things from the floor and pushed the door open. Blue tears were streaming down your face. You couldn’t be around him now.

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