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hazzyking · 7 months

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Well shit I was trying to write Sephiroth Smutt, and then it turned into Reno Smutt. But lest be honest. If it had the opportunity to turn into Reno smut, it wouldn't have been a good Sephiroth story anyway.

"I don't even think Sephiroth would even share the same space as Reno." That's what my BF said.

Credit to my job cause I thought of this while I was washing the company car at work. Except.... this one is spicier 🤣

Prompt: You and Reno are in the Shinra Hanger washing the company car.... and things get wet and wild ;)

Wet, Wild and a little Flashy.

You hated this. Being a Turk was like constant punishment. You had no choice but to be a jack of all trades in this line of work. SOLDIER broke the car, and it was time to be a mechanic. SOLDIER made it dirty, and it was time to turn the hangar into a carwash. SOLDIER is stranded, and it is time to be a pilot. It was always something with these guys, and you've had enough of it. Not to mention the fact that your paired with Reno to do this mundane task, the tension between you two was so high you could cut it with a knife. "Yo, (Y/N), you gonna help?" Reno asked, already putting his suit jacket to the side and cuffing his white button-up shirt, which was never buttoned up all the way. Blush crept to your cheeks as you noticed more of his chest than usual, considering his jacket normally covered what his shirt clearly didn't. "(Y/N)?" Reno spoke again playfully, letting your name roll off his tongue... it was euphoric.

"S-sorry. Yeah," you nodded, shaking away your dirty thoughts. You took your suit jacket off and threw it on top of Reno's. You became flush when you laid eyes on the small pile of clothes. You wish they were scattered on your apartment floor... or at least somewhere more... appropriate. You cuffed your sleeves while your mind wandered. "This is stupid," you said, dunking your arm in the soapy bucket and then splashing the rag onto the hood of the car.

"I don't mind," Reno shrugged. "I like cleaning cars," you smiled softly at his statement. Reno was a gear head, and he took care of his nice fancy cars like they were his babies. Of course, he'd like this. "Besides, I'm with you, so." Reno shrugged, thinking that flirtatious comment was gonna fly over your head. You blushed and ducked to the other side of the car so he couldn't see your beet red face.

"Y-yeah." You stuttered, your hot breath almost fogging up the glass of the car. "It's just- we have a job to do too," you continued, as if he was gonna let you be miserable for this entire ordeal.

"Whatever," he huffed. It was silent from then on. Both of you soaping up opposite sides of the car, not looking or speaking. You stood up from your kneeling position to walk over to the wash bucket and dunk your rag in again. Reno met you there and did the same. When he took his soapy arm out of the water, he splashed you with some soap foam.

"H-hey!" Your head snapped up, looking at his giddy expression. You smiled, rolling your eyes before smacking him in the side with your wet rag, turning the right side of his shirt see-through. You blushed as you heard his laugh, and you noticed the thin fabric sticking to his skin... *fuck... he's so toned* you thought. And shook your head as soon as his rag slapped you across your face.

"Oo- shit I'm sorry - are you ok?" Reno gasped as he pulled you close to him, inspecting your jaw. You chuckled and tightened your jaw, then hit him on the ass with your rag. "Hey! Cheater!" He shouted playfully as he chased you around the soapy car with the hose, your playful screams and laughter echoing off the hanger walls.

As the sun set over the airfield, the hose shooting rainbows into the sky as Reno continued to chase you, his hair shining like fire in the sun, and your shadows dancing on the walls, he turned around the car and snuck from behind you, his arm wrapped around your waist as he pulled you against him and shoved the hose down your shirt. You screamed at the cold rush of water as he laughed in your ear while you squirmed against him. "R-Reno! It's cold! It's cold!" You screamed, laughing loudly. "Reno!!" You screamed again, pulling from his arms and turning to look at him. Both of your white shirts see-through, at this point, Reno was barely wearing the shirt since you could see his skin and his hard nipples through his shirt, reacting to the cold water that stunned his skin. And he could see your black lace bra through yours. Blush crept up to both your faces as you stared at each other in silence for a moment. The sun slowly sank down as you two just undressed each other with your eyes. His icy blue eyes stared at your bra... and your eyes scan his chest. *What are we doing?* You thought as you caught your breath. Both of you were panting heavily from your previous water sport. "We should -" you started. But before you could finish- Reno stepped towards you, wrapping his arm around your waist and kissing you deeply. You gasped at his kiss, your heart pounding in your chest. He turned on his shoes and pushed you against the car that was dry with soap by now. You moaned as his tongue violated your mouth, his hands placed on the windows on either side of your head. Yours snaked up his body and pulled his wet collar closer to you. He pulled away, looking into your half lidded eyes. "Oh my god," you muttered breathlessly, Reno chuckled, biting his lip looking at you.

"Sorry- Your just so hot," Reno said, looking down, his arms still on either side of your head.

"I-im hot? Have you seen what you look like right now?" You blurted out, chuckling as Blush dusted his cheek. "I want to kiss you again" you mumbled looking into his beautiful eyes, Reno bit his lip again, as his lips moved closer to yours his hot breath blowing over your lips "please" you muttered, as your hand hooked behind his neck pulling him closer. "Please kiss me," you begged. He smirked at your request and brushed his lips over yours, causing you to shudder. "Reno, please," you begged again.

"God, you're so hot when you beg." Reno groaned in your ear and slammed his lips against you again, pressing his body into yours, leaving you pinned against the car. One hand lowers down to your hip, has he pulls your hips closer, and you grind your hips against his, feeling his breath hitch in his throat. "Mhm~, you're perfect," he mumbles again your ear as his lips trail down your head and to your throat, your head knocks back against the car as he sucks your throat and collarbone. Your moans ricochet off the hanger walls. "You're soaked. " he mutters pulling your shirt open to reveal your soaked bra, he pulls the cup down freeing your brest as his tounge swirls around the hardened bud, you moan pressing your chest into his mouth as he chuckles darkly "I can't resist you, (Y/N)" he says quietly your eyes open slightly as you see him kissing your neck, thankfully his body is obscuring your naked tits, but there's still a camera behind him.

"R-Reno," you moaned. "There's a camera," you moan again. He scoffs and pulls your body close to him. Then, open the back door of the car and push you in so you're lying across the back seat.

"Better?" He asks as he takes his shirt off and throws it out of the car, letting a loud SLAP sound as the soaked shirt lands on the concrete floor. "Let's see if your as wet as your clothes" he mutters kissing down your body, he gets on his knees and pulls you down by your hips, then he pushes your skirt up over your hips and moves your panties to the side as his tounge swipes up your folds causing you to shiver against him. He smirks against your thigh as he sucks a hickey into the soft skin. You grip his firey red hair as he eats you out. Like he's starving. You moan as his tounge swirls around your clit and in and out of your entrance. He gets up, watching you panting and staring at him, a little disappointed at the abrupt stop. "Do you wanna look at me when I fuck you?" Reno asked as he pulled his belt off and let his pants slide down around his knees. "Or do you want me to fuck you from behind?" He asks as he lazily pumps his cock a few times.

"I-i wanna look at you" you mutter watching his cock Bob as he let's go of it.

"Mm~ I like that" he groans as he pushes the head of his cock against your entrance, he swallows, as he slowly pushes himself all the way in as you gasp at his presence. "so tight" he says under his breath. "How are you feeling?" He asked, his eyes panning up to you.

"F-fine," you squeak out as his sharp blue eyes cut into your soul. Your stomach in knots at the pleasure. He smirks and nods his head in response and begins to thrust into you, slowly rocking the car back and forth. As he thrusts your back arches, moaning loudly, you can hear your moans echo throughout the hanger. He grunts and lowers himself down to suck your nipple. You catch the reflection of his ass in the window of the car and blush, knowing full well. Shinra security can see exactly what is happening here. You moan as he thrusts and swirls his tongue around both your nipples. And the fact that you're gonna get an earful about this tomorrow just makes the whole thing so much hotter.

"Fuck (Y/N) I'm gonna cum" he mutters like it's a Bad Thing. You tighten around his cock making him unravel faster than he even wanted too "shit- I've wanted this for so long, now I'm gonna tap out early" he says breathily... your nails dig into his biceps as he slams into you, causing you to moan.

"Fuck Reno~" you pant looking into his eyes... you can feel your orgasm approaching as his cock throbs inside of you.

"Ugh~ Oh god!" He moans as his hips rock against yours spilling hot cum inside of you, you moan out as hid thrusts bring you to your orgasm cum spilling on his cock. "Shit" Reno says while catching his breath.

"This is a mess," you say, panting heavily.

"It's about to be a bigger one once I pull out" Reno winks chucking darkly.

"So dont" you say smirking slightly. He looks at your features as a smirk tugs at his lips and he kisses you deeply.

"Mm~ that's not a bad idea"

#reno sinclair #reno of the turks #reno x reader #reno x reader smut #ff7 crisis core #ff7 #reno ff7 #smutt

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auroradragon · 1 year

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Frontier - Alejandro Vargas x Reader (Smut)

When I say I needed. I mean NEEDED an Alejandro x Reader smut. I'm so down bad for this man. In my fantasy, I've already imagined us having a whole ass family. Since there were so few Alejandro x Reader ff, I took it into my own hands. I also apologize, I've never posted smut before so please bare with me. Also why the fuck is this man SOOOO underrated. I love him SO MUCH

Summary: When group 141 and Los Vaqueros were betrayed by the shadows that you were considered close with, you rebelled against them as soon as Alejandro was knocked out. It didn't matter that you and Alejandro had a ridiculous rivalry. You still went down with him. Even while you had an odd relationship with Graves, you still chose to go against him. You were taken into custody along with Alejandro and were triggered into a manic breakdown while in the cell the two of you shared. You and Alejandro became close ever since.

Warnings: Smut, jealousy, competition, violence, PTSD, Trauma, Mental breakdowns, cursing, Alejandro being hot asf, etc.

Gif created by icaxrus on Tumblr

You entered your room with no emotion but rage. Your duffle bag lay open on your bed, still with uniform and clothing in the bag. You had multiple items like pencils and mementos you'd collected from your travels. But you just stare at them with utter disgust, it was nothing against what you owned, but all that was racing through your mind was the prison you, Alejandro, and his group were sent to, while Soap and Ghost barely got away. Not to mention how a shadow shot Soap. Then there was the personal betrayal between you and Philip

You had always told the men in your group that one of these days the emotions they hide away will come out, and it's not a matter of if it'll happen, it's a matter of when.

And for you, it happened in the prison, in front of Alejandro, he had no fucking idea what was going on. You screamed in your cell after going through a reaction from PTSD, you were having intense flashbacks and were put into a manic breakdown

To be honest with yourself, you could hardly remember what set you off, it felt like someone took a clip from the moment and deleted it. The little you could remember was a soldier whispering in your ear that he wished he could have his way with you, but couldn't because to Graves, you were off limits.

You'd struggled with a traumatic event a few years ago that led you to the state you were in, which was what set off the reaction you had and how the visions of that day and event kept playing through your mind like a fucking nightmare.

You were tossed into the cell and fell on your side with uncontrollable sobs. Alejandro was irritated at first, telling you to get up. He was always a hardass towards you, really you believed he hated you. But after a while, he soon realized it wasn't a joke and you were having a serious mental issue.

You look back at it now and thought about how that was probably the first time the two of you had an actual connection, the first time he'd been nice to you.

How he looked at you when you were terrified,

How he convinced you to sit up,

and when you did, he held you for a few minutes until your hyperventilation and tears stopped

How you two looked at each other from opposite walls, sitting on the freezing stone floor, his arms crossed as he sighs.

How he asked if you wanted to talk about it.

How you wanted to tell him what you lived with and what you had gone through, but... Knew it just wasn't the right time, and it may never be.

When the two of you made it back to a safehouse after the prison escape, Alejandro sat you down with him. Your lips and eye bags were puffed from the breakdown. He walked over to you with two mugs of coffee in hand.

"I think I'd need a real drink after this" He implied his taste for alcohol. He took his seat across from you at the small table. You met his eyes as he grinned the slightest bit. You wondered how a man could have such a pretty smile. You smiled a bit at his joke in return before taking a sip of your black coffee.

He swirls his coffee in the mug before looking back at you with curiosity invading his eyes.

"You still don't want to talk about what happened, Frontier?" You don't look back at him, instead, you shake your head 'no'

"Hm, okay" He sighs.

"Did you want to talk about Graves?" That caught your attention. Your eyes darted to his brown ones.

"There's nothing to talk about," You said just above a whisper. You take a sip of your coffee while warming up your cold hands like he never said anything.

"Señorita, don't do this," His voice was husked with his Spanish accent with a dead serious face. He placed his mug down lightly and placed his arms along the table to make himself bigger.

"I know that you and Graves..." He took a moment to find the right words, but you already knew there were no right words in this situation. Your glare was now present from irritation

"... Have a complicated relationship" His face remains serious and his gaze digs into your soul.

"....I told you I'm not a shadow" Your head tilted and your brows raised, but Alejandro kept staring at you like you were a fucking idiot.

"I'm not talking about if you were a shadow or not, I'm talking about if you had a.... personal... relationship," He clicks his tongue.

"I'm a traitor to them! What more do you want from me?!" The chair being pushed back as you stood dent a blood-curdling noise around the room.

"Tell me what the fuck your relationship was with Graves!" He stood up right after you.

"I-I don't know why this matters" You start laughing, but your eyes are glossed from forming tears.

"Y/N" He finally calmly said. It was the first time you'd heard your first name come out of his mouth. He only ever called you by Frontier, although he was also the only person in the group who knew your first and last name.

The truth was though, you and Philip were just fuck buddies, but nights after you lie next to him and wish that you two were more. You never knew Philips's feelings towards you, but you wanted him to like you as much as you liked him. Deep down though you knew it was never meant to be, and that you were just extremely lonely. The man was a walking red flag, yet you found yourself daydreaming about him.

But when you started knowing it wasn't a possibility, you took notice of Alejandro, he was definitely not the nicest person to you, but something about his aura kept drawing you towards him. You didn't know if it was his looks, his humor, or the way you just knew how much of a good person he was. You picked up on things about him and aligned them with ideas about him as a person. You imagined him to be extremely romantic, so much so that the things he'd do would be such a cliché, but you found it cute, really. But your heart sank when you realized how much you gained a liking for Alejandro.

When you were set back to the reality of what Alejandro was assuming, you knew didn't need this right now. You'd just recovered from a panic attack, and now all you could think of was Grave's betrayal. You just wanted a break, or a moment to sit and align all your emotions in a row instead of them being thrown at you continuously with no chance to think straight. So before you or Alejandro said anything else, you walked away from the table and to your assigned dorm. Alejandro stood in the same spot but watched as you walked down the hall.

After your panic attack in the prison was when Alejandro was put into a position where he could confront his own feelings toward you. Since you two met on the U.S-Mexico border, he dreaded you being a part of their group, seeing as he already didn't like shadows and really just assumed you were one too because you were American.

Alejandro kept a rivalry between the two of you, but over time he started noticing little things you do. How you bite your lip when you're in deep thought, the way your eyes flutter to keep yourself awake on the plane or the heli, the way you listened to the others in the group so well, the ways your eyes trailed all over him, and how you were always the first to ask if someone was okay. He didn't know why he cared so much but he began to think about you, day and night.

He'd be concerned and wonder if you were okay if you two weren't together. He wanted his eyes on you all the time. But his mind would trail back to Valeria's betrayal. He was heartbroken when he found out it was her, an ex-army partner, who turned against everything he stood for, it destroyed everything he knew about her, and every bit of trust against anyone who could be something of a friend or partner to him. In a way, he knew exactly what it felt like, with what was happening between you and Graves.

But when you were wrapped in his arm, shaking, and bawling, especially from you, he never wanted to let go. He memorized your scent and the way you felt, the way you fit in his arms, but what stood out to him the most was that after how rude he was to you and how much he pushed you away, you still trusted him enough to hold you and that you didn't stop him from holding you

That was the moment he realized that he was in love.

The anger spread through your body. Your shoulders were tense, and your eyes prick with tears that dared to come out. Who does he think he is? Asking that about you and Graves? You don't know why, but you just start picking up items around your room, your clothing, then empty items to clear the way, as a form of coping to clean a bit. You noticed in a cleaner room; you were able to think much better. Your mind was distracted from your mental attack and how much you grieved about Graves.

You heard your door swing open and hit the wall while doing so, it was so loud, you thought it broke a hole into the wall. “Get the fuck out of here!” You yelled not knowing who it was, not that you cared anyways. You spun your head around to see a shadow looming over you from the hall light that seeped into the midnight-black room. Alejandro might as well have teleported from where he stood because he was up to your figure before you’d even moved your body to face him.

“Alejandro get out-”

“No no no” His voice was low and husk

“You don’t get to walk away in the middle of a conversation señorita” His grin was filled with hate and not a single ounce of happiness. He grasps your chin into his slender yet large hand. You grew agitated, knowing how Alejandro gets sometimes when he’s angry, his smile is like the calm before a fucking hurricane. You whimpered as he grasped harder. This was the only time the phrase ‘I smile when I get angry’ should ever be taken seriously.

“Please” Your eyes grew heavy with the shorter breaths you took

“PLEASE answer my fucking question” Alejandro was so close; you felt his hot breath hit your lips.

“Did you fuck Graves? Did you sleep with the enemy?” He mumbles in your ear, slips touching ever so gently, yet his slender hands still grasping your chin.

“Let go of me” You voice was stone cold, it even shocked Alejandro enough for him to let go and give you an inch of room.

“I see how you look at Valeria-” You glare at him

Alejandro lets out a strained laugh, dark eyes digging into your soul. He turns his back to you and shakes his hand through his raven hair.

“I don’t know if you two have more than a friendship in your history, but there is something there” You spit.

“Valeria is nothing to me! hasn’t been for a long time” He spits back. Your eyes relax from his words for a split second before your brows furrow again.

“Same with Graves! So, what makes you think you have any right to say that shit?!” Your slipped calm face was back to an aggressive one.

“You can't sit here and tell me whatever I did was right or wrong. You can’t just assume shit and, and-”

Alejandro grasped the back of your head, hands curling into your hair. His eyes open slightly as he pressed his lips against yours. His scruff beard rubbed against your chin and his hand reached up to your face again, this time gentler and more passionate. It felt like minutes but was realistically only a second long.

You stood not knowing what to say before wiping his saliva off your mouth and glancing from the floor back to his face from anxiety. You could FEEL the heat on your face, and you knew he felt it too. You bit your lip hard and finally looked back up to him.

“... What-What was that for”

“...Are you mad at me.” He doesn’t really ask, but says it more like a statement.

You look at the ground again

“... No” You admitted before looking up at him with your chin down, with wide eyes

“Don’t look at me like that”

“Why?” You ask, but you knew exactly what you were doing but playing innocent.

“Are you mad at me” You have no idea where the fuck your courage came from but you stepped close to him and placed your lips on his this time. Your hands trailed from his neck up to both sides of his jaw. His hands found a perch on your hips

“mierda” He silently groans as he walks backwards to the door with you still against his body. He throws the door closed and fumbles with the lock. It's so dark in your room but Alejandro didn’t intend for it to stay like that for long. He wanted to eat up everything about the way you looked, he wanted to fuck you in the light where he can memorize every part of your body. After a few moments of you kissing him against the door with pleading breaths leaving his mouth when your lips found his neck and sucked lightly. He pulled your ass in so you'd get closer to him, letting you whimper as you felt his erection coming from his cargos. When you looked up at him, his eyes were overflowing with lust. He stops what you’re doing before now pushing you towards your bed that lies in the corner of the room. He sits up over you and reaches for the bedside table to fumble with the lamp.

“I um I don’t...” You stutter underneath him, suddenly getting insecure. The light flicked on and he took a moment to examine every detail of your face.

“Please,” He grabs one of your hands and places a gentle kiss on it while looking down at you for your approval. Yup, you were right, this guy was one for cheesy romance, in no way were you complaining about it though. You turn your head to the side from embarrassment.

“The light is fine” You mumble but just enough for him to hear. When you look back at him, you sit up to his level and plant a kiss on his lips, he places your head back onto the pillow while still kissing your now swollen lips.

“Fuck look at what you do to me cariño” He grunts as he grabs your hand to place it on the bulge of his pants. You gasp at the feeling of it against your hand. You raise your other hand and fumble with the buttons. He grips your hands with his own to stop you.

“What...” Your brows furrowed with confusion before his hands started unbuttoning your own pants. You saw how lightly his veined hands messed with your own cargos.

“Alejandro~” You wined

“Sé paciente,” He kissed your jaw to shut you up, while still attempting to get your pants unbuttoned.

He successfully pulled them down enough to see your panties soaked through. He sat up to admire the view.

“Take a picture while you're at it” You blushed in embarrassment, even through your bold facade.

“Oh, I will, cariño. But only after I've fucked you” Your cunt clenches around nothing as his words hit your core. He hears how desperate you are with each short and heavier breath that comes out of your mouth.

He slides your panties down with your pants. Your thighs clench as soon as the cold air touches the most sensitive area. He places a hand in-between your thighs in retaliation and spreads them back apart.

"Keep them open" All you could think about is how attractive his accent is. You sit up and tug on his long sleeve black shirt

"Take it off, please~" You whimper, needing him to touch you.

"As you wish princesa" He grins as you begged under his touch. He throws his shirt across the room and rises over you. You're in utter awe of this man's build. Vaines were present in his arms, even if he wasn't flexing, he had a surprisingly thin waist and sleek abs. You swear this man was built by God's hands themselves.

He moves back down and takes a leg. He starts kissing it from your calves, his nails dig into your leg as he leaves hickies on every inch he’s kissed. You felt goosebumps trail all over your lower body as he came up to your knees, then outer thighs, then inner thighs. Your face was burning up, your throat closed in, and your eyes dared to close.

"Now," He says as he raises a kiss to your jaw.

"Are you okay with it going further?" He whispers in your ear and his lips teasing your skin.

"Fuck. Y-Yes" You felt yourself shaking already. He lets out an amused chuckle through his nose

"Alright then princesa" He moves back down to your lower half and continues where he left off. He kept sucking your inner thigh, slowly getting closer to your cunt. He takes a look at you for reassurance. You aggressively nod your head and with that, he starts kissing your slick folds, without warning he starts sucking on your clit, and hard. Your head drops back onto the pillow as you let out a moan.

"Aleja- Fuck" You feel him grin as he continues to lick and suck your clit. You moan into your arm remembering how thin the walls are in the room, not wanting anyone in the other room to hear. He takes his finger and puts it into your now dripping pussy that ached for attention. With one finger he lightly plunged it in and further. You already felt like you were about to cum but he took the moment to put in another finger and curl his fingers along the walls of your cunt. His thumb replaced where his lips were on your cunt. He started licking the area of your cunt that weren't already taken care of by his fingers.

"Don't be shy, cum in my mouth "

Your hand went from the sheets to his polished back hair. He groaned as you pulled, feeling the vibrations from his deep groan, sent you over the edge. Your legs shook around him and you were starting to lose the ability to hold in your moans. The man didn't stop until you finished cumming. You lie there breathless, and beads of sweat rolling down your forehead already. He moved up to meet your eyes again.

You place a hand on his face, and he moved down to kiss you. You felt so dirty, tasting yourself on his tongue, but you fucking loved it. You moaned into his mouth before cussing.

"Jesus- I've never finished so fucking quick-" You say stunned.

"Don't tell me you're getting tired now" He teases as he nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck.

"Me? Never" You looked back up at him with determination in your eyes. You felt his clothed cock press against your swollen clit. You whimper as you feel every inch of the fabric press against you.

"Good, 'cause we're just getting started" He simply says before sitting up to unzip his pants. You sit up as you watch how shiny his tan skin is from the sweat. His thick brows furrow as he gets frustrated with the pants. You just sat there for a moment, taking advantage of seeing the most beautiful man on earth in front of you. He gets the zipper undone and you watch as he pulls his cock out.

"O-Oh- Uhm" You out a hand over your mouth as you keep staring.

"You don't want to go any further? I can stop" He says with zero hesitation

"F-Fuck no, it's just... Big..." Your eyes meet his lustful ones.

"I can't wait anymore cariño" He sighs as he nuzzles into your neck one more time before shifting himself between your thighs. He grips your thighs, nails digging into your skin, but you find it exciting. He places his hands next your head. Your hands snake up his chest. He feels shudders run up from his core. Your hand is placed on his cheek as you give him a look of adoration.

"Are your ready for this, princesa?" He asks.

"Y-Yes" You stutter. It's strange to you because you've never been this shy when it came to Graves, he doesn't make you feel the way Alejandro makes you feel.

Alejandro slides his hand up from your pelvic bone and up to your chest. You feel his slick cock, already dripping with pre-cum barely touching your lips and your body is already trembling with shaky breath following after. He slowly puts it in with a grunt.

"Mierda~ Ah, you're so tight" His hands grip the sheets under you, and your hands involuntarily grip his biceps which gives a grin out of him. When he's completely inside, he lets you catch your breath. Without hesitation he takes it halfway out and thrusts himself back in, hitting your walls hard. You moan from the sudden action and grip his biceps so hard you swear your nails were drawing blood. He grunts with every continuing thrust.

You become a moaning mess with every thrust he gave, and your hips bucking up had become an unconscious reflex. You feel your hips and thighs cramp from the flexing, so Alejandro pushes you down to prevent you from moving your hips.

"Ale~" You whine.

"Does Graves ever make you feel this good?"

"H-Huh?" He enjoys seeing you so fucked up that you can't even comprehend what he's saying

"Baby," He grabs you chin to make you look at him while he still fucks you dry.

"Has he ever made you feel this good?" He becomes so much more dominant as soon as he brings Graves up again.

You shake your head no

"Say it then," He says with trembling breath. Your core tightens knowing how fucking jealous he gets.

"No baby, no he's never made me feel this good~" You smile as your core tightens knowing you're going to cum with him. He feels how close you are, and he's not far behind either.

"I'm all yours Alejandro, please be mine~" You beg under him. His eyes widen as you pull your arms around him into an embrace. He picks you up into his lap. He stares up at you as he rubs your thighs.

You lift yourself up, but its hard at first because of how bad your legs shake over him. You settle your hands on his bulky shoulders and put yourself into a fluid movement on top of him. He digs his face into the crook of your neck and kisses down to your breast.

"You're all fucking mine, and I'm all yours," He says as he smiles whilst looking up at you. His hands slide all over your body. His groans start turning into moans and it ignites a fire in you, that you didn't even know existed. With half lids showing, you admire how he looks underneath you.

"I'm ganna-" You start

"I know. Me too." He finishes your sentence

You finally let out the coil you've been building up for minutes. The orgasm your felt left aftershocks. Your legs kept shaking and trembling. Your sweaty head falls on Alejandro's own forehead. He finished inside of you, still thrusting out both of your orgasms. His hand finds the crape of your neck under your wet hair. He looks at you through his long lashes, and he swore to God, hes never seen a more beautiful woman in his life.

"estoy tan enamorado de ti" He whispers

"Huh?" You ask with your brain still recovering from the stimulation

"Nothing," He says before he lies back down on the bed with you still on top of him. You left yourself up and drop next to him. You turn to your side and curl into him, resting a head on his chest. He plants a kiss on your forehead before trying to get up.

You sit up confused as you watch him walk around the room naked. He puts his underwear and cargos back on. You look away, thinking you just made a mistake.

"Frontier!" He yells and you look back at him with a chunk of your clothes in his large hands, he throws them at you and you catch them with a confused look in your eyes.

"Come on" He says as he finishes putting the rest of his clothes back on. He stands along the wall as you get dressed, staring at you.

"Stop being a perv" You finish and smack him on the ribs.

He grabs a hold of your waist and pulls you into him for a kiss

"amor de mi vida"

You look up at him this time understanding what he said. You had a glowing smile on your face.

"Mi amor" You kissed him again.

....

A.N -

This is the first smut I've ever posted, so I'm sorry if it literally sucks. Also if you can't tell I didn't take a Spanish class, unfortunately, I didn't take German either, I took mother fucking Japanese, and I kind of regret not learning Spanish but you know, it's whatever. Anyways I'm so sorry if I messed up the Spanish bits, I didn't use the most reliable source, cause I used Google Translate. But if you made it to the end, thank you smmmm and I love you!

#alejandro mw2 #alejandro vargas #modern warfare #call of duty mw2 #modern warfare 2 #cod #call of duty #alejandro vargas x reader #alejandro vargas x you #y/n #smut #call of duty smut #call of duty fanfic #call of duty modern warfare 2

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tiredofthehumanlife · 15 days

Text

Heavily inspired by Footnote

Barbie dolls: Regulus black x your bitch ass :) love you

Words: 2.5k ish

Summary: Regulus get trashed and confesses his love for you, you tell him to tell you in the morning when his ass is sober

Warnings: mentions of suicide, also Reggie is called gay by the narrator, underage drinking, drunkness written by someone who exclusively drinks Dr pepper, regulus cries and whines a lot, y/n joke, readers a perfect of no specified house, regulus gets no repercussions

Regulus was not a big fan of parties. He’s too Y/N for them, he once tried to bring a book to one. Barty threatened him with a knife. However even with his extreme hatred for B.O. he felt like dabbling in underage drinking. Regulus he was totally in love with his best friend, that’s you, a while ago. It was unfortunately in the Astronomy tower.

During class, he was muttering angrily to Barty about how you had ditched him for some dumb Ravenclaw, contradictory terms. Barty whispered that just because Regulus was in love with you did not mean he had to make it Barty’e problem at 2 am. With that Regulus froze, staring out at the wall. He was, wasn’t he?

He felt his mind screaming bloody murder, throwing plates and family heirlooms. How could he fall in love with his best friend? How gay was he? How much of his brother’s shadow was he? Regulus reached out and gripped Barty’s forearm. Barty turned back as the class was dismissing, filing out down the stairs. Barty patted Regulus’ shoulder before tearing his arm out of Regulus’ grip. Regulus stared out at the ledge.

“Barty, I must kill myself. It seems I am more of my cousin’s brother than I first realized.” With that Regulus flung himself towards the edge of the tower. Barty caught him by the back of his shirt, pulling Regulus tightly his chest. Barty awkwardly waddled Regulus towards the steps as Regulus continued to rabidly claw at Barty. Barty Stopped Regulus, ducking his head down to fling Regulus over his shoulder. Regulus bared his teeth, still trying to rabid his way out of Barty’s grip.

“It’ll pass, dear Reginald, It’ll pass.” Barty whispered, patting the back of Regulus thigh as he walked them both back to the commonroom. After that Regulus was well aware of his feeling for you. You weren’t. You were blissfully unaware. Alas, Regulus doesn’t know how to handle rejection that isn’t really rejection so he was offered alcohol by Barty.

So yes, Regulus went to a party. And no, he didn’t really like it, but he got booze so he accepted it. Barty didn’t even need to give Regulus a drink, Regulus was stealing them out of people’s hands. Barty got distracted dancing with Evan and others he entirely forgot he was on babysitting duty. Until he left to the bathroom and as he was washing his hands he gasped and stared in the mirror.

So he went searching for Regulus. Barty went around asking partially peeved people if they had seen a twat around shoulder height with black hair and an ugly shirt walking around. Most of them said no but one pointed Barty down a dark passageway behind a tapestry.

Barty sighed when he found Regulus sitting down the passageway on the floor. A small stack of red solo cups sitting next to him. Barty sat next to him. Regulus sighed. As he started talking, Barty realized how trashed he truly was. Regulus kept drifting off and staring over Barty’s shoulder, his words mixing together like food dye in water. Barty sighed standing up and pulling Regulus onto his feet. Barty kicked the stack of cups away deciding it wasn’t his problem.

On the way out Barty found Dorcas and Evan standing with each other. Pandora had decided she’d prefer to nap than go to a party. Barty gestured to Dorcas and Evan that they were leaving. Regulus was hanging off of Barty’s shoulder, mumbling about your eyes.

Evan pulled Regulus’ other arm over his shoulder. The three of them helped pull Regulus down the halls. As they were heading towards the dungeons they heard another set of footsteps. They got worried thinking it was a teacher or snobbish prefect, ducking behind a corner. Unfortunately Regulus didn’t get the message still muttering on about you. Dorcas slapped a hand over Regulus’ mouth. It was too late though, your head poking out from around the corner.

“Hey guys. Whatcha doing over here?” You asked, giving them a smile. Regulus’ head snapped up at your voice. He sighed when he saw you, leaning his head on Barty’s shoulder.

“Oh just hiding from snobbish prefects.” Barty said, rolling his eyes. You pointed to the prefect badge on your chest. Barty shrugged.

“He did say snobbish,” Dorcas muttered. “Which excludes you.” Evan nodded.

“You’re not snobbish. You’re more like snoggish.” Regulus whispered, his voice ebbing back and forth. He waited for a laugh for his pun, when one didn’t come he continued. “You know, cause like you’re not a snob but snob is like snog and I want to-“ Barty saved Regulus the embarrassment, covering his mouth with his hand. You gave Regulus a worried a look.

“I see you guys went to that party that’s against the rules.” You said, giving them a joking grin. Regulus lifted his head away from Barty’s hand.

“I didn’ want to. Barty forced. Do you still love me?” Regulus rushed out, skipping over words his mind deemed unnecessary. Evan rolled his eyes. If Regulus wasn’t trashed more than Barty’s bed, Evan would mock him. Dorcas groaned slightly. You gave Regulus sad eyes as you watched his waterline fill with tears.

“Yes, baby. Of course I still love you.” This seemed to be the wrong move because it made Regulus cry. You cooed as he pushed his face into Barty’s shoulder, his body shaking. Evan scoffed and released Regulus, moving to stand next to Dorcas. Regulus flung both his arms around Barty’s neck, sobbing more. Barty groaned at the added weight.

“Uh, you know. I heard that the professors have their hands kinda full tonight because all those fights from last week. So there wont be anyone to bust your party. I’ll take Regulus and tuck him in, you guys go have fun.” Barty shook his head at you. You held you hands up, already peeling Regulus’ arms off Barty.

“The Slytherin commonroom is already on my route so I’m really just feeding two birds with one seed.” Regulus sniffed as he realized who was holding onto him, staring up at you with puppy eyes. Barty looked over to Evan and Dorcas. They both nodded. Barty shrugged.

“Okay, but if he’s not in bed when I get back, I’m going to kill you.” Barty said. You nodded. Evan quickly pecked your cheek. Regulus groaned. You rubbed his back, trying to soothe him.

“Best prefect ever, I love you so much.” Evan muttered before latching onto Barty’s hand and heading back towards the party. Dorcas watched you as you looked down at Regulus, a small smile and soft eyes. She felt sick to her stomach. She left with the boys, not knowing she could handle another second of your gushy love. You pulled Regulus up more, heaving his arm over your shoulders. He started muttering going on and on about the party. You hummed, giving him positive reinforcement when he gave you a moment to speak.

Eventually with a lot of working and pulling and huffing you made it to the Slytherin dorms. You helped Regulus out of his shoes, tossing his legs into his bed. Regulus kept talking as you pulled his blankets over him. You started tucking the blanket in around him. Regulus pulled his arms out from under the blanket, grabbing onto your shoulders. He whispered your name. If you didn’t know him, you wouldn’t have understood him.

“Yes, my love? I’m not getting you a burrito, you know what happened last time. Never again.” Regulus clumsily brought one of his hands up to your cheek, making you meet his eyes. He looked like he was about to cry again.

“I like you.” He whispered. You nodded, a grin twitching at the corner of your lips.

“I know.” Regulus groaned at you.

“I’m lying, I love you.” You nodded again. You gently tucked one of his curls away from his eyes.

“I know. I love you, too.” Regulus huffed at you, getting irritated that you didn’t seem to be understanding.

“No. I love you. Like kissing.” You nodded slowly. You noticed a book off to the side, sitting on top of his blankets. You picked it up as you answered him.

“I know.” You bookmarked the page and set it on his nightstand. You looked back to Regulus, finding his face in his hands. You heard him sniffle. You frowned and gently pulled his hands away.

“Why are you crying?”

“If you love me why don’t you do anything?” Regulus huffed. You cooed, cupping his cheek.

“Well you never said anything. I had my suspicions but I wasn’t going to assume on something like that.” Regulus groaned again, harshly knocking his head into your arm. You gently pecked the back of his hand.

“Well then can you kiss me now?” Regulus asked. You shook your head. Regulus whined, starting to cry. You leaned over him wiping his tears away.

“Why?” He mumbled, pitifully.

“You’re drunker than a skunk, babe.” Regulus groaned, shoving at your shoulders. You knew you were wearing a shit eating grin by now but it was silly to you. You lightly grazed your lips over Regulus’ cheek, making him freeze and stare at you with sparkling eyes.

“Tell you what, if you can remember to talk to me tomorrow about this, I’ll give you the best kiss I can muster.” Regulus gaped up at you, holding onto your shoulders again.

“Really?” He asked. You hummed and nodded. Regulus had a smile already growing on his face. You finished tucking him in before slowly backing away. Regulus fell asleep before you made it out the door.

The next morning you were chatting with another prefect in the Great Hall. They were telling you about how they caught two Hufflepuffs higher than a kite sitting behind a potted fern. You were interrupted by Barty, plopping down between you two. Barty threw his arms around you. Regulus stood on the other side of you. You smiled up at him. He looked tired. Regulus was sporting Dorcas’ thick bright green sunglasses. He glanced down at you. If you could see his eyebrows, you assumed he’d be lifting one. You ducked one hand behind him, holding onto the back of his knee. You just barely traveled up, grazing over the back of Regulus’ thigh.

“You remember anything I told you last night?” You asked. Regulus shrugged.

“I remember making a bad pun about snogging and that’s as far as my memory goes.” He pushed Dorcas’ sunglasses further up his nose.

“Mr. Black you know the dress code.” You heard Slughorn’s voice behind you. Regulus glanced back.

“Suck my dick.” Slughorn gave Regulus a disgusted look as Regulus turned back around. You looked back at Professor Slughorn.

“It’s fine. I’ll write him up.” Slughorn looked between you two before stalking off. You trailed your fingertips up and down the back of Regulus’ leg. “truly you should not have done that.” Regulus shrugged.

“He’s just jelly because he can’t pull off those cool shades, huh Reg?” Barty said. Regulus reached around you and smacked the back of Barty’s head. Evan sat across from you.

“God I wish you would pull those off.” Evan muttered. Regulus flipped Evan off.

“Well I like them. I think you make them work.” You smiled up at Regulus. You felt slightly more judged just staring up at a pair of sunglasses with barely a quarter of Regulus’ face peaking out from under them. You felt Regulus gently nudged your chin up with his finger.

“Next time you go into the dorms, can you talk quieter?” You glanced over at Pandora’s voice. She was standing over Evan staring at you. Regulus dropped his hand to hold onto your shoulder.

“Yeah sorry.” She nodded, sitting down next to Evan.

“You were in the dorms?” Regulus asked. You glanced over at him.

“Yes? Baby, I’m the one who took you back to bed.” He nodded.

“Oh yeah, you did do that. I remember tripping over your feet in the halls.” You rolled your eyes at Regulus.

“Well don’t be a bitch, Regulus.” Evan muttered.

“I’ll be your bitch, Rosie.” Barty muttered, winking across the table. Evan snarled at him.

“Not over breakfast guys. You have to let Regulus gain at least one third of memories first. Also it’s gross.” You said, pointing your fork at them. You heard Regulus mutter a ‘huh’ at the mention of his name.

“You can join.” Barty whispered.

“No they may not.” Evan said, annoyed.

“So you admit there is something to join in on?” Barty pointed at Evan. Evan pinched his lips together, caught.

“You walked right into that one.” Dorcas muttered, joining the table. You zoned them out, giving your attention back to Regulus.

“How are you feeling?” Regulus glared at you, or so you assumed.

“Like someone pierced an arrow through my temples.” You cooed, pressing your chin into his hip.

“I’m sorry, baby. If I had known you were going I would’ve gotten a better babysitter.” Regulus scoffed.

“I’m not a child. You’re not getting a babysitter, because I’m not a baby.” Regulus muttered.

“Fair, but you like when I call you baby.” You patted his thigh, giving him a cocky grin.

“Deception, lies, and deceit.” Regulus said. You hummed, tauntingly. Regulus shook his head, choosing to ignore you. You tilted your head.

“You really don’t remember anything you told me last night?” Regulus shook his head, looking down at you.

“Why? Did I say something wrong? I swear I showed it to the doctor he told me to wear socks on my hands to bed, I’m working on it.” You stared at Regulus for a moment. You felt the part of you brain that worried for your friends tell you to ask about what he showed and what it had to do with socks on your hands. But the other part of your brain muttered ‘Do you know what that is? Not my problem’.

“No. Nothing wrong.” Regulus tilted his head to the side, staring at you from behind his obnoxiously large sunglasses. Regulus clicked his tongue.

“Yeah well, whatever. Do you think my teachers will notice if I skip?” You nodded.

“Yes, you’re never absent.” Regulus scoffed at you. He squeezed at your shoulder.

“Well consider this: I don’t want to go.” You hummed. Regulus nodded at you.

“Thats a good point.” You walked Regulus to his first class, abusing your prefect privileges to have your tardy ignored. You were a little upset Regulus didn’t remember anything but you assumed he’d remember later on during the day.

He did not. And you did not bring it up. You’d just have to wait until Regulus got lost at a party again.

#regulus black #regulus black x reader #trans regulus #regulus deserved better #trans regulus black #regulus black x #regulus x you #regulus x reader #the marauders era #the maraunders map #the marauders #marauders #marauders era

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 years

Text

Forgotten Lessons XXVIII

Masterlist

The weekend is over 😭

Warnings: noncon/rape, age gap, abuse of power, coercion, mentions of suicide, depression. Y'all know I do it dark and spicy. You have warnings, use them.

Thots, comments, screaming, and feedback are welcome and highly encouraged. Thank you!

The distortion of your mind slowly dissipates as the air shifts, warming around you as a door shuts. The jingle of keys pulls your attention and you turn to watch Bucky hang his keys from a small hook. You glance around. You don’t know this place, but you assume it’s his.

Why are you here? Why wouldn’t he take you home?

You don’t say anything, only standing there as he pulls the jacket from your shoulders. He slings it on the coat rack and sits on the low bench, removing his boots as he nods to your own. You sit beside him and slip off your boots.

You move without thinking, mimicking him again as he gets to his feet. He takes your hand and guides you further inside. The loft, condo, whatever it is, is spacious but cozy. Vintage woods, oaky tables, an amber leather couch with a soft fleece throw over the back. You get only a brief glimpse through the fuzzy daze.

He guides you through another door and sits you down. You feel along the porcelain seat of the toilet as you watch his figure move around. He bends over the large tub and water spills out loudly. He stands and faces you again.

“You should… try to calm down, a hot bath will help,” he suggests, “I have some bubble bath or bath bombs…” He opens the cupboard below the sink and pulls out a pink pouch. He puts it in your lap, “everything you need should be in there.”

You look down and unzip it carefully. There’s soaps, shampoos, creams, and everything else. Even a toothbrush. All new, all untapped. Why does he have all this?

You don’t ask. You’re tired of the questions. Tired of trying. You just want it all to be over.

“Go on,” he backs away, “I’ll be close by so if you need anything, just call my name.”

You stare at the open zipper, “thanks,” you don’t look up.

You wait until his shadow moves and the door gives a soft creak as it shuts, but not all the way. You reach in and take out the cherry parfait sundae soap. The bottle is extravagantly decorated, the lid looks like a swirl of whip cream. The girl you were months ago would’ve thought it was cute.

You set the bag on the counter and stand. You got to the door and push it shut with the handle. It doesn’t meet the frame as Bucky catches it from the other side.

“Sorry, sunshine, but I need you to keep it open for now, just a little,” he leans his weight on it until you relent, “for your safety.”

You feel the stab in your chest, “you think…” your voice trails off and you shrug, “alright.”

You don’t have the will or energy to argue. What’s the point? No one ever listens to you. No one hears you. You’re nothing in this world. An unwanted baby, a controlled child, a neglected teen, and now a forgotten shell.

You turn and leave him at the door. You got to look into the tub. You know what he’s thinking. He thinks you’re going to hold your head under and let the air out of your lungs, swallow down the water until no bubbles rise. You’re not stupid enough, you know that you will only ever be a failure.

You peek over your shoulder and he gives you a look, something almost sad, but something else you can’t name. He steps back into the hall and pulls the door, leaving several inches between the edge and the wooden trim. You face the bath again and twist off the faucet as the water floods the basin.

You pull off your sweater first, dropping the wool to the tile. You can still feel him groping you through the thick knit, the way he squeezed and pinched. You peel off the tee shirt and add it to the floor, your bra is folded under one breast still. You unhook it and let it fall.

You shove your pants down, socks rolling in the ankles and sliding off your feet. You stumble and catch yourself. Your walls ache and burn, your thighs throbbing from the bruises, your ass too. Your hip bones hurt as you struggle to push down your panties, you feel his cum still wet on the cotton.

You kick them away and go the tub’s edge. You lift your leg over the side, leaning on the porcelain as you bring the other in and carefully lower yourself into the steaming pool. You groan and lay back against the wall. You close your eyes and let your hand brush down your stomach.

What are you going to do? It’s too late to protect yourself. You recall the large pill you took in the car, Laufeyson’s coldness as you chugged down the water. How little he cared even this time. You wonder if maybe it’s intentional. That he wishes upon you even the pain of carrying a child you could never want. Yourself, a child nobody wants.

You take your wet hands and smear them down your face, dampening your skin. You hide behind your fingers and suck in air, a sob rushing from you, unrestrained as you begin to bawl. You can’t hold it back. No matter how you try, it tears from you like a deathly bellow.

Your body quakes as you let out every ounce of grief, the feel of his hands on your neck, the noise of your flesh smacking against his, the pain that hollowed your bones. You weep until you have nothing left, until you sink down into the water, only your face above the surface and stare unfeeling at the ceiling.

Empty, you just lay there, the water cooling around you, eyes and cheeks puffy, throat sore and tight, head thrumming. You feel the crack as it rents through you. You reach to wipe your eyes with your wet hands, soothing yourself until you can breathe.

You grip the side of the tub and pull yourself up to sit. A dark speck shades the corner of your eye and you look over as Bucky stands in the open door. He holds a towel under his arm.

“I only came to bring you this,” he says and you shy away, covering your chest, uncertain if he can see it above the tub, “I can put on some tea?”

“I don’t want any,” you croak and hang your head.

“Alright,” he accepts and sets the towel down on the counter, lifting the pouch and brings it over to you, “here.”

“Mmm, thanks,” you grumble, bending your legs to hide from him.

“I’ll make up the bed. That’s what you need, sleep,” he says.

You snort but say nothing. Sleep? Is he stupid enough to think you could ever sleep through this nightmare?

#loki #bucky barnes #dark loki #dark!loki #dark!bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #series #bucky barnes x reader #loki x reader #forbidden lessons #drabble #dark drabble #dark!drabble #mcu #marvel #professor!loki #professor!bucky #ask drabble

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hongjoongscafe · 1 year

Text

Someone out there...

Part: 2 [Serieslist}

|In the attic|

Pairing: bunny!hybrid!jungkookhuman!readerxbunny!hybrid!wooyoung

Boy groups involved: BTS & ATEEZ

Genre: angst, fluff, smut, neighbour au, hybrid au.

Summary: the two bunny hybrids were terrified of the cruel world. Will they be able to live their life?

Warnings: mentions of abuse, mention of underage m*lestation, mention of r*pe.

Word count: 3k+

BTS and ATEEZ masterlist

Masterpost

Do not repost, plz

Numb. That was what Jungkook felt. The only time he was better was when he was cuddled up with Wooyoung, his partner.

They lived on Jeju Island but because of a sudden business change, their owner Kim Dal decided to move back to their old house. Jungkook and Wooyoung were not aware of this old house.

Jungkook hated all of this. He hated his owners, he hated the house they were living in. He hated the fact that he ever got adopted by the Kims. He hated his fate. This is not where he wanted to be.

It had been years since he was with them. Kim Bina was not there since the beginning or well at the time Mr Kim brought him home. He still remembered the day very well when Kim Bina first came back home with Mr Kim.

Kim Dal stumbled into the house with a skinny and tall girl in his arms. Jungkook was waiting for him to come back and serve him food. But he just saw a woman who was too young for this old man in his late forties.

She was clad in a short deep neck red satin dress. It almost looked like a night dress. Her lips were over-painted with red lipstick. Her face was tiny and her jaw was sharp. She was beautiful, Jungkook would be lying if he said otherwise. But she wasn't alone there, there was another woman behind them who was a bit more mature looking. She had light makeup on her face. And she was wearing a black dress that highlighted her big breasts and her big ass. Her eyes were red as if she had enough drinks.

“What the fuck are you looking at?!” Dal yelled at Jungkook. “Go back to your room, fucker!”

“Na- ah, he should stay,” the red dress lady said as he checked Jungkook out and bit her red lips. “He is kinda hot,” she said as she rubbed Dal’s chest.

Jungkook was disgusted. He wanted to gag. It was a better option to stay in his room rather than see this unholy scene unfold. This situation was something that he knew if he witnessed it, it would change his whole life and leave a deep trauma.

“Mhm, that thing is thicc as fuck,” the black-dress lady said. “By the way, I'm Bina.”

Jungkook couldn't care less.

“I- I th-think I'm b-better in my bed-bedroom,” he stuttered. Fearing that his master might beat him.

“Yah! You heard them! Stay the fuck here!” Dal screamed at him.

Not to mention that it all happened when he was fifteen years old. It was illegal, whatever was going on. He wasn't meant to be in the same space let alone in between them.

He begged to be left alone. He cried his heart out, screamed his lungs out. No one heard him. He was abused the whole fucking night by those filthy ladies and his master. He was a kid back then. A ray of sunshine but they snatched it and left him in the shadow of demons and monsters.

Being a bunny hybrid, he knew it was going to be hard on him. They were known to have high sexual power. But that didn't mean that enjoyed being molested and raped by these vicious people.

Everything was still.

Jungkook was sitting on the floor, naked, next to the couch where the two ladies and his master were cuddled up and sleeping. The bunny hybrid couldn't bat a lash. He could feel those hands on him. He could feel them pull his sensitive ears as they rode him. He could still feel his private being used.

He got up and walked straight into his bathroom which was nothing but a tiny little space with a bucket and a toilet and a lopsided mirror. He stood in front of the mirror and looked at his bruised face, his swollen eyes, and chapped lips covered with nude and red lipstick stains.

Jungkook's body shook with panic. He could feel his heart bursting. His nose started to bleed and tears streamed down his cheeks. As much as he wanted to scream, he couldn't so he silently cried and silently screamed and hit himself.

“Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?” he kept on asking. “Why me?!”

He fell and curled into a ball. Sooner, he shifted into his bunny form and stayed there and fell asleep on the dirty floor of his bathroom.

Since that day, this Bina-named virus has infected him till date. No matter how much Dal abused him but she was someone he was afraid of the most.

Her presence was enough to make him shiver and want to jump into a well. Her sharp eyes tore his sanity into tiny pieces. Her claw-like finger held the power of clawing his soul out from miles away.

To say the least, she was a demon that ate him up, both literally and mentally.

Bina was a personality that didn’t care about anything or anybody. She was fierce and sharp. Whenever she was showing her real colours, one could feel the chills running down their spines. She was one to be feared.

No wonder why Dal loved her so dearly.

The other woman, the red dress one– he doesn’t know what happened to her. He never saw her again. It was good that he never saw her again.

He remembered after four months from that day, Bina showed interest in getting another hybrid.

“Dal, I think we should get another one of these,” she said pointing at Jungkook who was serving dinner to his now two masters.

Jungkook’s bunny ears and eyes twitched.

“Yeah? And increase the expenses on these useless shits?” He sarcastically said.

She looked at Jungkook who was standing in the corner. His fingers fiddled in front of him. Face pouty.

“We can just, ya know, split what we give him,” she shrugged.

Jungkook’s heart dropped. He already got only one slice of bread and a tiny bottle of water to survive the day and one serving bowl of rice at night.

“You are right. I think we can use one more,” he kissed her.

The hybrid whined thinking how he is going to survive especially when they make him do a shit load of work in a day. His bunny heart trembled. He wished that his owners would change their minds.

But that never happened. Instead, that same night when he was taking his rice in his room, they told him to be ready in the morning.

“We will go get you a bastard like you. I don’t want you to be late, understand?” Dal looked at him with hate in his eyes.

“Y-yes, understood.”

In the morning when Dal opened the door of the bunny’s room, he found his weak body trembling in the corner with the fear of having another hybrid and then living in the worst conditions.

“Don’t. Fucking. Sit. There. You. Fucker!” Dal yelled. “You are making us fucking late!”

Jungkook whined and quickly followed his master with unshed tears. His heart was running so fast. He felt like he was going to faint any minute.

When they reached the shop, the three of them went inside. Jungkook quietly followed behind them with his head hung low, his ears almost covering his eyes.

They stopped in front of one tiny cabin. The employee opened the door and let them in. There was a tiny looking, giving the illusion of a half-dead man, a bunny hybrid. His ears were grey, fading to white towards his head. The tiny hybrid was trembling and turned towards the three new people in his cabin. His breath fastened, and panic was in his eyes.

“I think we should leave the hybrids with each other for a little time,” the employee recommended. “By the way, his name is Wooyoung.”

The master and Bina left the cell, leaving Jungkook behind.

Jungkook awkwardly stood there. The longer he looked at the hybrid, he started to worry about the other hybrid more than himself. He was in the worst condition.

The other hybrid’s bones were visible. It looked like he had no muscles but skin and bones. He had dark eye bags. Jungkook could tell that he was having trouble breathing.

Jungkook’s eyes filled with tears and he finally let out a sob. He slowly walked towards that hybrid and wrapped his arms around him. Surprisingly, the weaker hybrid hugged him back.

“H-Hyung?” he carefully said.

“Yeah?” Jungkook softly let out.

“Now I will have a better life, right…?” his hands fisted around the older's shirt. “Now I will get better soon too.”

Jungkook sobbed more and just hugged him more. He wasn't sure if he was trying to calm his heart by hugging the oblivious hybrid or was trying to help him feel at ease.

…

They were now moving to another place that was on the outskirts of Seoul. It was an elite place. Jungkook and Wooyoung, both were instructed to be on their best behaviour.

It was the first time that the hybrids went out of their house for the long road. Otherwise, they would go out only when they needed to buy stuff for the house. Even that was mostly prohibited because the master would bring all the necessary stuff just to make sure the hybrids wouldn't run away.

Wooyoung was looking out of the window with wide glittery eyes. He always wanted to go out and explore the world. But his fate didn't accept his happiness and threw him and his Hyung into this shithole. Every single day, he wished for a happy life for his Hyung and himself. He wanted to be with Jungkook forever. He was his love, home, the only ray for him to be alive.

The younger hybrid was well aware of the fact that Jungkook only had him and he was living just for him. They both have gone through so much. Wooyoung has seen Jungkook at his worst. And the only thread that was holding their lives was each other.

Jungkook looked at his little hope. His wide wandering eyes brought a tiny smile to the older hybrid's face. When he met the younger for the first time, he was thirteen. It wasn't that much of an age gap but for Jungkook, he was the older one and he had to take care of Wooyoung. He spent night after night making sure that Wooyoung was alright and wasn't having trouble breathing or any kind of pain.

They both were in love with each other.

They did share the food. Jungkook always gave Wooyoung the bigger portion. Although the younger one was always hesitant to take it Jungkook insisted.

However, Dal started to earn more and more. So instead of giving two bunnies one slice of bread in the day and one serving bowl of rice at night. he started giving one to each.

It wasn't enough but at least Jungkook got his older diet and Wooyoung got a full-size portion that Jungkook once had.

This tiny thing made both of them cry for hours in thankfulness.

Even now ten years later when Jungkook was twenty-five and Wooyoung was twenty-three, they both lived on that joke of a diet. It was just enough to keep them surviving.

…

It was the next morning. Jungkook and Wooyoung were in the kitchen, preparing breakfast and tea. They heard that the house next door was noisy. The hybrids flinched when they heard something breaking in the next door. They both looked out of the window that was facing your house to see if whoever was inside was okay.

“You, bitch!” Bina came into the kitchen and pulled Wooyoung’s ear harshly, making him whimper. “I asked you to fucking bring that lemon water ages ago! Where the fuck is it?!” she twisted his fragile ears.

“Ah! Madam, just two minutes. Please, sorry!” he whimpered. Jungkook's fists were clenching around the pan and the spatula.

“You two are good for nothing! All you two do is raise our bills, fuckers. Bring me the lemon water!” she yelled and stood there by the threshold of the kitchen.

Wooyoung quickly poured the water into the glass and squeezed some lemon into it. Bina hummed and snatched it from the bunny's hands.

“M-madam?” Jungkook’s tiny voice called.

“What?!” she hissed.

“W-we don't h-have milk a-and sugar…” he said.

She gritted her teeth, “why the fuck did you not tell me yesterday?”

He shrunk on his spot, “I- I did tell you.”

“Shut up!” she snarled. “Now from where the fuck am I going to bring it?”

While she was busy scolding the two hybrids, she saw you getting out of your house and locking the door. A sigh left her mouth.

“Guess we will be meeting our neighbour today,” she said and quickly walked out of the house.

Jungkook and Wooyoung saw Bina talking to you like she was the sweetest soul. It angered them. How could she be so fake? She was the devil herself. It felt like she could read their minds at times. They felt suffocated around her.

“Thank you! I’m not gonna waste your time. I just wanted some milk and sugar. My husband likes his morning tea too much but there is nothing at home except the raw tea,” she giggled nervously.

The hybrids scoffed internally. Bina and Dal were not married. They were just… there. Not married or committed. Bina didn't even live with them. She came here for a while for the moving purpose. She was supposed to return after a week. Thinking about this, Wooyoung felt annoyed and Jungkook cursed under his breath.

This was going to be the worst week.

…

The rest of the day was hectic for the hybrids. They were unpacking and putting everything in place. Dal and Bina just ordered them around. Wooyoung felt like he was taking his last breath when they were finally done for the day.

They were in the attic where they were supposed to live from then on. It was small and had four windows. One facing the front, one facing the back, one towards the side, and the last one towards your house.

There was only one twin-size bed on which they both adjusted under a thin blanket that they have been sharing since day one when Wooyoung came. But the blanket was way older than that. Jungkook took that forever.

Jungkook was looking out of the front-facing window. His past haunted him. He was scared of what the future held. He could give up, but he had a sick hybrid to look after… but what about him? Who was going to look after him? Wooyoung was worried for him but couldn’t do much. The younger hybrid was vulnerable, there wasn't much in his power. He was suffering already.

Jungkook understood that. He loved his tiny hybrid. His pure face, wide eyes, that tiny mole under his left eye… it was all adorable. His heart filled with warmth now that he was thinking about Wooyoung.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard two people talking. He peeked outside the window and saw you and one other man. He heard you two talking.

Then the man went into his house and you came closer to yours. He saw you looking at his place, and he quickly got behind so that you could not see him.

“It’s nice that you have some people living in you now, huh, house. I can’t imagine being alone like this for decades,” you talked to the house as if it had ears. But you never know. “Anyway, y/n… it’s finally the weekend. I’m gonna sleep the best.”

Your voice was soft and pleasing to Jungkook’s ears. But his hate for humankind denied it. He hated humans too much. They left huge scars on him and left him feeling depressed and abused.

“Hyung?” Wooyoung whimpered.

Jungkook quickly walked towards him and got under the blanket. “What happens?” he asked while pulling him closer.

“Chest hurts,” he cried.

Jungkook’s heart broke and pulled him even closer. His big hand landed on the younger's chest and rubbed him. He kissed his cheeks and head.

Wooyoung tilted his head, looking at Jungkook with teary eyes. The older took his face in his hand and caressed his jaw, pulling him closer and giving him a tiny peck on the lips.

“I'm right here, Woo. I won't let anything happen to you, okay?” Jungkook mumbled.

Wooyoung nodded and slowly turned into his animal form. He felt much more comfortable that way. He could snuggle his whole body in Jungkook’s hands and get caressed everywhere. The night was his favourite time just because he got to spend it with Jungkook, the love of his life.

Oblivious to the bunny, Jungkook silently cried and fell asleep while crying.

…

The next morning was no better. It was the weekend. Dal and Bina were more annoying and abusive on such days. But they had to suck it up and go through this.

The morning went by with Dal beating Jungkook because he forgot to serve the cookies along with the tea. He was a sick dog. His head was always red and ready to beat the fragile boys.

Jungkook ended up with his back bruised and a huge slash at the side of his stomach from the belt that Dal hit him with his full strength.

Wooyoung treated his Hyung with tears streaming down his eyes. He hated seeing Jungkook like this.

Jungkook was quiet.

At eleven, the four of them were in the living room. Jungkook and Wooyoung were standing in the corner. Dal had called them for a talk. The hybrids knew this was going to end up in him mentally abusing the hybrids, telling them how useless they were and that they didn't do anything right.

But before he could speak, the bell rang. Dal and Bina looked at each other.

“Are we expecting someone?” Bina asked.

“Nope,” Dal said. Then he looked at Wooyoung who shifted on his feet under Dal's gaze. “What are you waiting for? Go open the fucking door!”

Wooyoung quickly moved and went to open the door. There was a beat of silence before someone spoke up.

“Hello, I am the neighbour next door!”

.....

Sanaa's note:

Last update before the new year💓 I always appreciate your feedback💓

The behaviour of all the characters is visualized.

Taglist:

@veneziamadness @cheline @sansmilkbread @jayb17 @constantlydelulusional @8tinytings @tea4sykes ; @jhmylove

*lemme know if you wanna be added to the permanent or specific taglist*

*original picture is not mine, I just edited it*

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thegoblinboy · 11 months

Note

Number 35 for the Steddie prompts!! (Also Hiiiii!!!! Hope you're ok and that being free of education (for a bit) is doing you some good!!)

I'm doing okay, just spending the week with my grandpa helping him out on the farm! Just been really busy (Though I finally got my own computer so now I don't have to type all of this on my phone lmao)

Wanna force me to write, send a prompt in from this post to my ask!

Number 35: Villian Falls In Love With The Hero

tw: mentions of blood, violence and torture. Read at Own Risk

Arrow! Steve Harrington x Assassin Eddie Munson

Eddie grins up at the man with bloodied teeth, sweat rolling down his forehead from the heat surrounding them barely able to open his right eye from the black eye that was starting to form from each punch he’s taken. Each stroke of his tongue against his teeth confirmed what he had already assumed, at least three teeth were chipped from each swing the man threw. Fucking bastard.

Though none of this stops his eyes from lighting up with glee as the Russians fist pulls back into the air once more, threatening to strike down and break his nose this time. He didn't care, the man in front of him will not get one word from him.

Thankfully, Eddie was a bit of a masochist so he could literally do this all day.

"Where is he?" The man's accent is thick. Along with the slight ring in both of Eddie’s ears he could barely make out what the man is trying to ask him. Though after the first fifty times the man asked, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what he wanted.

"Where is who?" Eddie pretends to act dumb, they both know that wasn't the case here. There had been a reason why their boss had hired him specifically in figuring out the Arrow's identity. Which he of course, successfully did.

"The Arrow!" The man's voice raises a bit, cracking a bit from frustration. His bloody fist was starting to shake a bit from the pain that was being enforced onto his own body, exhaustion seeping into his bones from holding it up in the air for so long. His other hand tightly gripping the collar of Eddies ‘Black Sabbath’ shirt. Not as enthusiastic about getting the answer out of him like he had been hours ago.

"Your ass." Eddie holds a manic grin on his face as he squints his eyes a bit. The light above them blinding him, though he doesn't need to see to hear the slight whoosh of an Arrow being shot right where Eddie had said. Right into the unexpected mans ass.

It had only been a lucky guess that his hero had finally gotten there to safe the day.

The screams of the older man echo through the warehouse as he begins to hop up and down, only causing the arrow to shove deeper into his ass. His right hand that had been lifted into the air was now pulled all the way back closer to his ass, gripping the stem of the arrow tightly.

Eddies laughter was a tad higher pitched then his voice, and way louder than the others screams. Which was why he was the only one being heard by the other crew members that were being taken out just as fast as they were alerted. A second after the last body hits the floor Eddie feels the ropes of his hands being cut.

Before he could be stopped, he's hopping up and swinging his fist at the shocked Russians face. Proceeding to spit on him as he turns around, where he knew Steve was. Arms opening dramatically, grin never leaving his face.

"You came back for me!" He says excitedly, getting the answer to his question from earlier. Whether or not that island froze his heart entirely or not. He quickly moves over to the side, grabbing his own gear. A small bag of throwing knifes and a cross bow that was quickly loaded as he looks up. Seeing the hooded figure of Steve standing off to the side. In the shadows like normal.

"Remember, no kill shots Munson. We are doing this my way." His voice is deeper than what his day-to-day voice was. Using some trick to alter his voice, it was hot. Especially when they made it to the bedroom. Steve’s moans tended to be a bit more raspy after a night out. That combined with Eddie making the other hit high notes, it was a his own personal favorite orgasm wrapped tightly in a bow.

Eddie simply pouts after a second of processing the others words, "But that's no fun." He huffs a little. He did enjoy the creativity of finding ways of killing a man. The light leaving their eyes was simply a bonus.

He starts to skip on over to the other, his boots echoing across the cement as he quickly swings both his arms around the other's shoulders. Feeling the way, the other tenses up underneath him. He doesn't care as he moves his face closer to the others. The feeling in his stomach when he finally allows his lips to brush against the others was way stronger than any adrenaline rush from a kill. He would do - no he will do anything to keep this feeling.

When he pulls back his smile is softer, reserved only for the man's eyes in front of him. That were soft as well, both of them taking a moment to reunite before everything around them went crazy.

The entrance doors slam open, and their time is up. But Eddie doesn't care as he pulls the other back into a kiss, purposely swiping his tongue in the others mouth. Feeling the others hand tighten around his hip as they both fight each other for a second. Pulling back with a gasp as Eddie grins more crazily.

"I call topping tonight!"

Before he swings himself into action, not giving the other anytime to argue.

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thetenthdoctorscompanion · 10 months

Text

Summary: Tess returns a favor and gets a favor in return. Or maybe it's the other way around.

Words: 2k

Warnings: Pretty light. Mention of pills and alcohol, the nightmare of working in customer service.

A/N: Look, I promise Joel shows up eventually. I also want to thank @arrthurpendragon for giving this story a shout out the other day, and thus giving me the motivation to do another chapter. Genuinely, thank you for all that you do.

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March 2013

As it turned out, the doctor’s apartment wasn’t all that far from Tess and Joel’s. It was just on the other side of the main market, which meant you could cut straight through the heart of the city if you were up for it; most of the time, Tess wasn’t. She and Joel kept to the outskirts of the city by nature—less FEDRA officers, more shadows—but there were days where even recluses like them had to brave the city center.

It was one of the few times Tess was using ration cards to buy actual rations. Normally, you’d get a better deal trading with your neighbors than you’d get at the market, but things were always tough at the end of winter. Hunting was bad and supplies were thing, which meant FERDA held all the cards. It also meant the bastards could hike up prices as much as they wanted. Tess spent a small fortune and only walked out with two bags of jerky, a bottle of water, and one shitty excuse for an onion. It was a crap haul, but she guarded it carefully as she walked out the other end of the market; she’d been jumped for less before.

Thankfully, it was only a few minutes before she found herself climbing the narrow stairs to the third floor apartment. None of the buildings in Boston were exactly quiet, not when the thin walls were stained and starting to rot, but Tess noticed at once that it was noisier than usual. Her hand gravitated toward her knife, hovering cautiously as she moved toward the disturbance.

“I don’t understand, I gave you the shirts. You were supposed to fix them!”

“Kendra, there wasn’t enough to fix. As soon as I started to stitch them, the fabric unraveled. The best I can do is salvage them for patches and thread.”

“But I already paid you.”

“Yes, I get that—”

Tess relaxed, hand falling back to her side. She’d had this conversation before. No matter what business you were in, customers were always a pain in the ass.

She knocked loudly on the door, which caused a slight pause in their argument.

“Just a sec! Look, Kendra, I can give you the rations back plus a few more for material—”

“I don’t need rations. I need shirts, so—can you just give them back?”

“Can—no! I just told you they’re unravelling. You could punch a hole through this fabric.”

“Well it wasn’t like that when I gave it to you.”

“Yeah, because I had to stab it with a needle. Which you paid me to do.”

“No, I paid for shirts, so—I don’t know! Give me other ones!”

“Oh, please—”

Tess slammed her hand against the door as hard as she could. Someone across the hall shouted for her to keep it down, but she ignored it. She’d rather kick the door in than listen to any more haggling; before she could, the door flew open.

“What the hell do you—oh…” The doctor stopped short, rage disappearing. She looked hurriedly up and down the hallway and tucked her short hair behind her ears. “Just hold on—”

“We need to talk,” Tess said firmly. “Now.”

She invited herself into the apartment and made a beeline for the couch. She took the liberty of making herself at home, kicking her feet up on the table, and raising an eyebrow at the shocked blonde woman across from her.

“Excuse me,” the woman said, aghast. “I was in the middle of—”

“Trying to con this woman out of some shirts—yeah, I heard. Scram.”

“C-con—excuse me? What I’m doing here is none of your business!”

“Lady, you made it my business when you started screaming for the whole complex.” Tess sat up abruptly and leaned forward, smiling when the other woman stepped back. “Now I don’t know how someone with the name Kendra survived this long in the apocalypse, but a little insider tip: if you’re that desperate for shirts, I know a few people who could make some out of you. Got it?”

She got a special kind of joy out of watching the lady squirm, her jaw dropped open wide as she scrambled for some kind of response. Luckily, her host put her out of her misery.

“Come on, Kendra,” the doctor sighed. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

She led the shell-shocked woman out into the hall, pushing her the last few feet so she could close the door as fast as she could. She promptly sagged against it, dragging her hands down her face. Through her fingers, she glared at Tess.

“Thanks for that.”

“You’re welcome,” Tess said, without any sense of irony. “Chances are no one will fuck with you now.”

“Yeah, because they’ll all think I’m mixed up with a bunch of psychopaths.”

“You are.”

“Shut the hell up, Tess.”

The woman rolled her eyes and flipped her off, then turned her back as she walked to the kitchen. It was such a stark contrast to the speechless blonde that Tess could’ve smiled—she didn’t, but she could’ve.

“I got rid of her,” she said instead, “and Doc Laurel didn’t have to play the bad guy. Call it another favor.”

“Right. All this because you want me to cook for you.”

Tess actually snorted. “Cooking’s a strong word.”

“Oh, is it?” Laurel asked. “You do it then.”

She raised her eyebrows pointedly, then returned to the glasses she was grabbing from the cabinet.

There weren’t many people in Boston who could get away with talking to Tess like that; Laurel had become one of a rare few.

Tess wouldn’t have used the word “friend”—fuck, she didn’t even know if she’d call Joel a friend; the word felt pointless in the world they were living in—but Laurel wasn’t a stranger. Not a partner, but not exactly an acquaintance either.

Over the last five months, they’d fallen into a mutually beneficial relationship. It was supposed to be over and done with after Tess returned that damn blanket, but then it’d been Laurel’s turn to ask for a favor.

“Hey, you uh—you’re a trader, right?”

Tess had stopped in the hallway, turning back with an incredulous look. “Excuse me?”

“You trade…stuff,” Laurel attempted to clarify with a shifty glance down the hallway.

“Jesus—” Exasperated, Tess brushed past her and stormed back into the apartment. She didn’t continue until the door was closed tight. “If you’re looking for more pills, it’s gonna cost—”

“No, no, no,” Laurel jumped in. “Not pills—alcohol.”

“Go to a damn bar.”

“You and I both know that watered down crap isn’t worth a damn. I need something stronger.”

Tess had cocked an eyebrow. “For cleaning or drinking?”

In return, Laurel had shrugged. “Both.”

Despite her annoyance, that was an attitude Tess could respect.

That had started a long chain of transactions—booze for fresh socks, hygiene products for hidden pockets added to their clothes, medical supplies for rations that were actually edible…

“Yeah,” Laurel announced, inspecting the crappy onion Tess provided. “I can work with that.”

She put it aside and turned her attention to the rest of the food. One bag of jerky went back in Tess’s pocket while the other was emptied out into an empty coffee can, followed by the bottle of water. Laurel briefly climbed on to the counter, reaching over the kitchen cabinets and blindly searching until she found what she was looking for. When she hopped back to the floor, it was with a small jar of onion powder. Tess still wasn’t sure how she made it, but she really didn’t care. All she knew was that it masked the sickening taste of the FEDRA jerky, and that made it well worth a trip through the market.

Laurel added a dash to the coffee can, sealed it up, and gave it a quick shake. Then she placed it on the counter and held up her hands, wiggling her fingers for added effect.

“Thanks, Chef,” Tess scoffed.

The jab went unacknowledged as Laurel grabbed a hunting knife—previously provided by Tess—and stabbed it into the onion. She got a few slices in before her eyes flicked back up to her guest.

“Can you entertain yourself for half an hour?”

“Yeah.” Tess pulled a flask from her jacket and, this time, she did smile. “I can work with that.”

After that, the apartment fell quiet, silent expect for the rhythmic thunk of the knife and occasional turn of a page as Tess sat on the couch and leafed through one of Laurel’s books. She’d been expecting—well, she didn’t know exactly, but something to read for starters. There were some novels, sure, but most of them seemed more like workbooks, full of grids and pencil marks and mixed up letters. Tess flipped through it for a few minutes, reading the instructions, before she gave up.

“The fuck do you have this for?”

“Hm?” Laurel briefly looked up from her so-called cooking. “It’s a puzzle book.”

“Yeah, I know that. I’m not blind. I mean why do you have it?”

“What, just because it’s the apocalypse, I can’t have hobbies?”

“Sure, you can, but you already sew and stitch people up for kicks. I figured you’d want to double down on that instead of useless brainteasers.”

There was a moment as Laurel finished her dicing, scraping the bits of onion onto a scrap piece of metal and placing it on the window sill. When she turned back to Tess, it was with a thoughtful frown.

“I like having something else to think about on community shifts. Goes faster.”

Tess grudgingly tilted her head in agreement, but didn’t comment. Even living with Joel, smuggling high-demand goods, she had to work community shifts. Sweeping the street, shoveling shit, burning bodies, and starting all over again—it was bleak work. No wonder Laurel would rather focus on a riddle or code or some shit instead of the weight of a kid’s body.

“It keeps me sane,” Laurel said simply. “That’s not useless. I learned that real quick. When this all started, I used to—”

“Uh-uh,” Tess interrupted, raising a finger. “Nope. No backstories.”

Laurel huffed, but held up her hands in surrender, turning instead to pour herself her own drink.

No backstories. That was the rule they’d settled on. It was a rule Tess tried to live by, wherever she could. Knowing people meant understanding them, and that meant sympathy, emotional connection. That was a risk she couldn’t afford to take. She was already on a slippery slope living with Joel, knowing Tommy, their relationship, their past, Sara…

No. Tess had no intention of handing out the details of her weaknesses. And she wouldn’t risk getting attached to anyone else.

Laurel plucked the puzzle book from Tess’s hands as she walked past. “I like cryptograms, so shoot me. What do you do for fun?”

“I don’t know, just…”

Tess trailed off. The word “fun” felt a lot like the word “friend”—pointless. What even qualified as fun these days? A day she didn’t have to carry corpses? Getting to take a hot shower? Blowing off some steam in a fist fight?

Not that she’d ever say it out loud, but the closest thing she had to “fun” was Joel. Fun was listening to the two cassette tapes they had over and over again. Fun was breaking into a shitty bottle of moonshine and talking about nothing and everything for hours. Fun was trying to play poker with half a deck of cards when they knew there was no real way to win. Half their shared moments were things she’d rather forget, things that plagued them both at night and made it tough to sleep, but the rest…

“Nothing,” Tess said at last. “You’re right. I don’t do anything for fun.”

“Clearly,” said Laurel, without looking up from the page. “Maybe that’s your problem.”

“Yeah? You gonna prescribe me a crossword, Doc?”

Laurel almost managed to hide her laugh in her cup. “Sure. Five letter word for Tess.”

“Great?”

“Try again.”

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#ocappreciation #tlou oc #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x oc #tlou fic #tlou stories #stories #my stuff #the last of us #extant life #laurel haynes

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jjungkookislife · 2 years

Text

Shadow [Ch. 2]

pairing: villain!jungkook x sidekick!reader

genre: villain au, crack, smut [18+]

summary: Saving Jungkook is just part of your daily life as his sidekick.

wc: 869

warnings: cursing, jk fell into an alligator pit, jk wants to be a good boy, named reader (Shadow is her alias), reader calls JK daddy (not in a kinky way tho), jungkook had to replace his henchmen with much smaller slippery minions, reader’s powers make an appearance, tiger bite, lip ring!koo, mention of dom!JK

date: February 9, 2022

“What did we learn?” you ask as you squat down to gently pet Pete the Alligator.

“Watch my step?” Jungkook asks as he steps away from Pete, the alligator has never been too fond of Jungkook. However, he did take a liking to you, as well as his other pal, Fred.

“Who’s a good boy? Who’s a good boy?” Your voice rises in octaves as you coo at the alligator, who much resembles a cat when you stroke under his chin. “You are! You are! Yes, you are!”

Jungkook scoffs. “I can be a good boy too.”

“D’you hear that, Pete? Daddy’s jealous you’re getting all the attention and he looked stupid falling in here,” you smirk, eyes locking with Jungkook’s.

He sticks his tongue out at you, heading for the rope ladder you’ve thrown down to get him out of the pit.

“Bye, Pete. Thanks for not eating him!” You cackle as you plant a kiss on Pete’s head before following Jungkook up the ladder, smacking his ass once you’re back on the main floor of the lair. You hit the button for the glass to cover the pit, not needing Jungkook to fall into it when you’re not around.

“Back to the plan,” Jungkook states as if he hadn’t just been almost devoured by his own alligator. “Wait, where are the henchmen?”

“You let them go after your last failed robbery,” you remind Jungkook.

He frowns, “Oh, yeah.”

Jungkook paces back and forth, hitting a button on the table, “Minions!”

You stare at him confused, turning your head when the door to your right slides open and a horde of penguins come waddling in.

“Penguins?!” you screech as you rise from your seat to get to them. You’re cautious around them, not sure if they’re as friendly as Pete and Fred down in the pit. You melt into your shadow form, sliding in and out with ease in their shadows and the penguins turn to follow you before deeming you as a non-threat.

You easily materialize into your human form and shake the fin of the penguin leading the pack. He seems to like you, following you back to your seat and standing at your side. Jungkook wonders how you’re capable of befriending every creature you come across, but it has been handy throughout the years. It saved him from being eaten alive a few times, although he’s sure you told the one tiger to get a nip of his arm.

“Yes, since we can’t afford human henchmen, I stole some penguins. Of course, I thought we’d be going to Antarctica at the time, but here we are.” Jungkook shrugs.

You cover your face with your palms, muffling your scream. “You give me headaches, Dr. J.”

Jungkook chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck with a tattooed hand. “Oops?”

“Can we just move on with the plan?” you sigh, petting your new penguin pal on the head. “When do you intend for all this to go down?”

“Tonight!” Jungkook does his evil laugh, throwing his head back and you notice how thick his neck’s gotten and how broad his shoulders are now that he’s been working out more often. Unlike you, Jungkook doesn’t have any powers. He can’t befriend wild animals, doesn’t have super strength, and can’t melt into the shadows like you. His plans don’t even work most of the time (or at all). Fuck, why was he the villain?

“Okay, I’m all here for the excitement. Trust me, I love a good heist just like anyone else here,” you say and the penguins nod along in agreement.

“I’m the only other human here?” Jungkook looks around the lair to confirm, and he swears the penguins are laughing at him, some even slap each other with their flippers.

“But as much as I love the pre-heist fuck where you get dominant and insanely hot, I’m gonna need more time. First, we need to find a jet because your stock image from Google isn’t gonna do it, baby. I know, you had to figure out how to print it and everything since our new printer is wireless and I know you’re still trying to print double-sided but babe, you’re printing shit upside down still. Watch a YouTube tutorial or something, Kook.”

“Okay, fair. But I wanted to steal the jet tonight,” Jungkook pouts and you rise from your seat to walk over to him. Your hands grip his wrists, the leather on his arm meeting your palm.

“I know you did,” you coo at him and he melts for you. Your hand moves to cup his face, gently caressing his cheek before you’re leaning forward to kiss him. He easily kisses you back softly, the soreness of his lip ring still fresh as he holds your hips tightly and the penguins cover their eyes as the kiss deepens.

“Let’s plan this out well, okay? I want this to be successful so we can go on vacation together after,” you plant one last kiss on his lips. He rests his forehead against yours, nodding as best as he can from his position.

“What would I do without you?” Jungkook murmurs against your lips.

“Die in an alligator pit.”

thank you for reading! ♡ if you liked it, please let me know! 💌

<< previous // next >>

#btshoneyhive #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader insert #jungkook crack au #villian!jungkook

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eldaryan · 2 years

Note

Kind of in conjunction with my last ask. This includes like collars and stuff, so if you're not comfortable with it, then don't worry about it <3.

I think Mikey would much prefer his hands around my neck, BUT he would also love seeing a collar in place when his hands aren't there. Something simple and inconspicuous.

He doesn't want anything to get in the way of his hands, and he sees me wearing this type of knot design, so he thinks it's perfect. 📷

He could still tug gently (but he prefers to put his hand around my throat and pull me closer by my neck anyway.

Maybe a little imagine of Michael (RZ's Michael again, I'm a whore 💀) deciding to get one (probably stealing it lol) for me to wear. Him holding it out to let me inspect it before he puts it on. He'd be so proud of himself and so happy to see you wearing something nearly permanent (it has a lock mechanism that needs a key 👀).

My brain isn't thinking of anything else, so feel free to run wild. It can be full nsfw, implied. Whatever you like! 😄

Thank you for your ask again ♡ And sorry for the late answer, these days were kinda confusing for me, but here we go!

It´s the continuation from another ask!

➡️ In revision

•Rating: NSFW🔞, smut, blood, knifeplay, murder, mentioning of murder, choking, milking.

His possession

Part 1 • Part 2

Michael was out for his stalkings and, if he’d got lucky enough, his blade would have the taste of blood one more time.

Walking carefully behind the trees, he spots a young couple walking holding hands in the other side of the street, into their home. The image of them reminded him of you, waiting at home when he finishes his hunt.

He decides to follow when they enter their home, walking into the backyard and starting to stalk through the windows. Curiosity guides him as they interact, kinda wanting to learn how a normal couple would act with each other and maybe take some mental notes about it.

Michael watches the young man as he starts kissing the lady with passion, moving his hands through all her body and squeezing her ass, making a whimper escape her lips. The man stops, moving one hand to her neck, caressing and kissing it until he steps back, grabbing a jewel box from his pocket, showing her a type of necklace and a little key that surprises her.

He opens the necklace with the key and puts it on her neck, locking it and making her kiss the key before putting it back in his pocket, starting kissing her neck again, laying her body on the couch, and pulling her close by pulling the necklace.

The shape outside the window feels his cold blood heat up in his veins, knowing that’s the exact time for action, walking towards the backdoor and breaking the handle silently and easily. Some steps and he’s behind the couple in the shadows, watching their naked bodies together. Too easy.

His blade dances in the air before, with a sharp sound, it stabs the guy’s neck with blood spitting everywhere and over the screaming girl below him. Michael watches his masterpiece, tilting his head as the guy lets his last coughs trying to catch air and his body collapses. The girl tries to push his corpse to the floor and run upstairs, in an attempt to escape the nightmare she was living.

The shape walks calmly upstairs, following the bloody trail his prey left to one of the bedrooms, smacking the locked door with his large body a couple of times, opening it and listening to a muffled scream in the room.

He opens the wardrobe, she’s not here.

He opens the closet, she isn’t here either.

He goes to the bathroom, no signal of her.

But he knew, exactly where she was.

He calmly steps around the bed as the boogeyman plays with the girl, stopping beside it and staring at the sheets perfectly laying there, without a signal that it was touched. His grip tightens on the butcher knife, raising it and stabbing the mattress, listening to his prey screaming again as he watches her trying to escape from under the bed with a wound in her arm, hurrying to catch her, but she falls on the stairs before catching her.

He just watches and listens as her body collapses on the floor and her cries, begging him for mercy as he approaches her again, trying to escape as she rests her back in the wall. His hand found its way to her neck, starting to choke and easily raising her body from the floor as the girl fought for release and air, trying to kick the man behind the white emotionless face. It excites him.

The way she keeps fighting as his grip tightens. Her eyes not brighten anymore as the air scapes of her lungs. Something in it reminds him of you, guiding his dark gaze to the bright necklace, sliding the tip of his knife through the necklace and her collarbone, going slowly down to her naked breasts.

And with a quick move, his knife blade is deep inside her chest, listening to her last scream as she dies in his hands and the blood runs down her skin.

He let her lifeless body fall to the ground, staring at it before approaching again to push the necklace from her neck. Which is still there. Realizing that he couldn’t take it by force, he remembers it had a key. He walks towards the living room to search for it in the clothes of the guy he killed, finding it and returning to unlock and grab his bloody trophy, keeping it in one of his pockets. Watching their bodies again, he decides to finish his masterpiece by sitting the couple together in the couch, turning on the TV, letting they stay bloodily together, and finally walking home.

He finds himself home while passing through the backdoor that you always left open for him to enter when he goes out, locking it behind him and walking towards the living room, searching you. No signal of you there. He walks silently as always to the kitchen, not finding you there either. He takes advantage of it and approaches the sink, opening it to let the water run, reaching the necklace and washing it for you. Yes, for you. It was normal to Michael bring gifts for you from his hunts and it’s been a while that he didn’t found something that he felt sufficient special to give to you.

Enough cleaning, he keeps the necklace in his pocket again, doing his way to upstairs deciding to find you. He missed your presence and soft voice greeting him, also how your eyes did bright when he always comes home.

He arrives your bedroom, letting a deep breath scape when not finding you there, starting to feel worried. He calms himself down as he hears some noises in your bathroom, following them and opening the door in hurry.

“Oh, Michael! It’s you! You scared me…”

You rest your hand in your chest after the sudden jumpscare as he finds you relaxing in the tub with foam covering your shining skin because of the water.

“How was the hunting?”

You ask curiously, resting your arms in the bathtub while turning your body and attention to him, who stands there just watching you for a few seconds before approaching. You start to feel worried as Michael does not answer you, realizing that he might be hurt. With the thought, you stand on your knees and supports your hands on the bathtub rim to not slide.

“Are you hurt?”

Your eyes shining with worry sends some warmth to his cold heart, moving his head in a “no”, answering your question. He reaches your wet hair with his right hand, touching it and sliding his fingers down to your cheeks, and his thumb to your lips, caressing your skin before you kiss his digit, making a smirk rise on his lips behind the mask.

“I’m already done. Can you please give that towel for me?”

You say in an attempt to avoid the heat in your cheeks caused by his sudden touch. Michael gives you the towel and stands there, watching you while you try to wrap your body quickly, getting out of the tub and rubbing your body in his in the way, feeling his muscles tensing with your touch as you walk towards your bedroom.

You don’t notice as he silently follows you until a strong hand grabs your arm, pulling you towards a strong chest and making your eyes meet dark bright ones, burning your skin with his gaze.

“M-Michael?”

He does not let your arm go, just dropping his knife and searching something in his coveralls, showing you a bright necklace that makes your eyes widen with surprise.

“Is it for me? It’s beautiful!”

You smile as he nods, turning you around as he moves your hair to the side, putting it in your neck, fitting perfectly as he closes it with the key of the same color, letting you see the key in his hand as you thank him. As he imagined, it was perfect on you, as anything you wear. Personally, he preferred your naked body just for him to see or when you did wear his clothes. It was even perfect to show that you were his, without the need to leave bruises on you, even if he enjoyed it, but after you complained too much about going out in public and the stare of people towards you, it was an easy solution, as only him could open the necklace again. It would remind you that you were his, and only his. And he would make you remember, many times he needed to.

You feel his hand on your shoulder, pushing your body down until you’re on your knees, touching the zipper of his coverall and your hand, guiding you to put it down and reveal his chest covered by a black shirt as your nails softly scratch his muscles, finding the start of his boxers.

You look up to him, feeling your mouth water knowing where it all will end and a tight grip in your hair, a silent order for you to continue, releasing his thick member from his boxers and lightly teasing it with your fingers, glaring to the veins on it and how it pulses in your hand. Your lips approach his length, planting kisses all over it until you hear an impatient grunt, knowing exactly what he wanted. His tip slowly enters your wet mouth as you start to suck him and work with your tongue around his large shaft the best you can.

You gasp as Michael makes your air choke when he pulls the necklace with a strong grip on your neck, moving his hips starting to fuck your mouth and throat, making your cunt squeeze around nothing, needing him already.

Muffled moans trying to scape your mouth full of his member while you try to keep eye contact as small tears blur your vision. Not being able to hold yourself anymore, you move one hand to your exposed clit below your towel, rubbing it with the hurried pace of his hips, using your free hand to grab his leg, trying not to fall. Your moans sending chills through his skin while watching your pretty messy face and your body trembling on your knees for him only confirms that it was what he most wanted, every day and every time, which also kinda pisses him.

With another look, Michael finds out that you’re touching yourself without permission, so he grabs your arms and pulls you up when he removes his length out of your abused mouth and giving you a death glare as you feel your legs shaking trying to stand, but before you could recover your breath, he pushes you to the bed, unwrapping your body from the towel and lifting his mask just above his lips, pinning your wrists above your head just with his left hand, starting to attack your lips with his.

He bites your lips, he sucks your tongue, and trail wet kisses down your skin as he finds his way from your neck to your erect nipples, taking his time teasing you with his calloused fingers, circling and pressing it with his tongue, doing the same thing with the other and finishing with a rough bite above it to leave a mark in purpose.

Your hips already moving by their own with his touches and his hands going up and down in your leg skin, squeezing time by time.

“Michael, please! I need you!”

You say, trying to get some friction from his body.

So needy already.

You can feel a smile on his lips as he goes down again, doing his way to your tights, sucking and biting your skin around your cunt, that pulses begging for attention.

His attention.

“Please Michael…I was waiting for you all day…”

He just stares at you while guiding his free hand closer and closer, examining your features for any signal of lies. Satisfied with your begs, he moves his fingers through your lips, teasing your entrance and going up to your pretty button, rubbing it in circles while doing some pressure, watching your body jump a bit under him, approving your reaction and wetness with a grunt. Michael starts to please you with his mouth, entering your wet hole with his tongue and not being gentle while sucking you with ease, letting go of your wrists so he can hold your leg and spread you open for him, continuing to attack you with his mouth.

You moan while you hold the sheets trying to hold some screams as he speeds up his teasings, feeling your high so close as you feel butterflies on your belly. He feels how your pussy convulses in his tongue, changing places after a while and circling your clit with tongue as he fucks you with his fingers, just wanting you to come in his mouth this night. Not lasting for too long, you fulfill his silent wish, cumming in his mouth with a long and loud moan, yelling as he keeps sucking you until the last drop of your juice.

You try to normalize your breath as you watch him licking his lips and closing the distance between you two as he kisses you again, letting you feel your own taste and his member sliding close to your tights. Michael breaks the kiss to just look at you and admire the mess you already were. And he just started.

When he feels his cock in pain, his patience runs out, needing to fuck you in the right way. He easily flips your body, squeezing your waist to pull it up and rise your ass for him, sliding his right hand in your skin, probably letting bruises from the pressure he applies, finding its way to your ass cheek, smacking it before biting roughly your skin, making a squeal escape from your throat, positioning himself in your pretty entrance. He slides his shaft through your bottom lips, teasing you before easily pushing all inside with one move of his hips, making you scream his name. He wouldn’t tell you, but he loved the way you do react with every touch of his. How your sweet hole squeezed and vibrated around him. How tight you were, almost cannot taking all of him. How you moaned and cried for him.

You feel his harsh trusts against your hips and how he beats your insides, almost not fitting there, just letting him fuck you searching his own high as you rest your face on the mattress. But he wasn’t going to let you rest. He smacks your ass again before pulling your body up, against his strong chest by grabbing you by the necklace, making you choke a little while almost sitting in his lap as he fucks you deeper and does you see stars. You just listen to the sound that your bodies do as he eats you with his member and his heavy breathing not so controlled as usual, close to your ear, automatically biting your lip finding that really hot.

He watches you as he caresses a thumb on your lip, making you stop biting it and opening your mouth to listen to your pretty voice, sliding his right hand to your neck and wrapping it around, feeling your heart pulse. Would be so easy for him to just break your pretty neck and end your life right there, but he does not want it. He preferred to break your body like this instead, over and over again. And you knew it. And you loved it.

His free hand finds its way again from your waist to your clit, rubbing and slapping it, making your body convulse a little and your pussy tighten around him, teasing him to repeat the process until you’re screaming again, just watching your face as he holds you in place with his strong grip and his arms.

“I’m so close…Please Michael-with me”

You feel his grip tighten, demanding you to beg properly as you try your best to keep looking at his gaze.

“Cum with me and fill me up with your seed…Just please-”

You can’t even think properly as he fucks you at an animalistic pace, wrapping his arm around your waist for you to stay in place, feeling waves of pleasure rushing through your body. You came in the exact second he bites your shoulder close to your neck and feels some drops of blood, pain and pleasure mixed as he fills you up with his hot seed deep inside of you with a last harsh trust of his hips, making sure to milk you right. He lets an irregular sigh of relief escape as your body falls on the mattress and he pull out of your abused cunt, watching some drops of cum trying to escape, taking it with his fingers and moving them to your mouth, making you suck it as the good kitten you are.

You feel your breathing normalizing as you lay on the sheets and he plants kisses over your collarbone, guiding your hands to his mask and caressing it, smiling very satisfied. He looks to the necklace shining on your sweaty skin, doing you to look at it too and touch it with the tip of your fingers.

“Thank you again for the gift. Now you don’t need to leave bruises on my neck and listen to my complaints about it”

Oh, he would never stop marking your pretty skin, as the possessive man he is. And you knew it, but it was a progress. Marking you or not, you were totally his.

His possession.

Michael didn’t let you rest the night along, marking every place of your body he could until he felt satisfied enough and you were a pretty little mess on the sheets.

#michael myers #rz michael myers #rz halloween #halloween #slashers #tyler mane #michael myers smut #michael myers x reader #michael myers x y/n #slasher #ask

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merakiaes · 3 years

Text

Hate You, Hate You Not - Armitage Hux

Pairing: General Armitage Hux x reader

Requested: By anon.

Prompts: #1 & #58 from the fluff-list.��

Warnings/notes: (SHOULD I MAKE A PART 2 WITH MORE ROMANCE IN IT?) This ended up being much longer than I planned so it's most likely very boring and dull😭 Might be a bit, if not a lot, out of character since this is kinda my test-run for Hux and Star Wars in general. Getting the characters mannerisms in might take some practice. Not proofread so I apologize in advance for any mistakes. This is the first time ever that I write for Star Wars and the first time in like 5-6 months that I’m writing in general so I’m a bit rusty. Please reblog and leave comments to keep my motivation going and let me know if you’d like to be added to a Star Wars taglist <3

Wordcount: 5632

Summary: One of Kylo Ren’s many tantrums results in your room being inhabitable for a night, which in turn results in you having to share a room - and bed - with the person you hate the most.

Everyone who had ever, at some point in their lives, worked alongside Kylo Ren in his quest to bring the Order to power, knew how much of a hassle and inconvenience his temper, or lack thereof, could be.

Not much was needed for him to lose his cool and it happened on a much too frequent basis than what was considered normal for a man in his early 30s, at least according to you.

Of course, however, you couldn’t actually tell him that, nor could you think it, with the risk of him probing your mind.

So every time he came back from a failed mission and completely obliterated your hard work, you could do nothing but bite your tongue, clear your head and repair the damages like you’d done oh, so many times before.

That’s what you got for being one of the highest-ranked engineers of the Order, you supposed.

But on this day you would’ve, for the first time in your life, very much preferred to repair the damages left behind by your tantrum-prone leader like you always did. Because if that punishment had to be compared to the one you were now facing, you would’ve chosen the former without even a shadow of a doubt.

But, unfortunately, that was not an option this time around, as the room that had fallen victim to the sizzling beam of Kylo Ren’s lightsaber was your bedroom.

Well, not originally, of course, but sparks had flown from the totaled control panels and a piece of supposedly fireproof metal scrap had caught on fire before you and the other engineers reached the room for a damage-control, starting of as a small flame and then proceeding to spread like wildfire as fire did, in ways completely unbeknownst to you as, like already mentioned, the place was supposed to be safe from fires.

The licking flames had managed to melt through several walls before you got to the scene, and one of those walls was the wall to your bedroom.

It was late when it happened, only fifteen minutes before you were supposed to end your shift, and as you were on the verge of having a mental fucking breakdown, you personally requested an audience with Kylo and were granted permission by him after a very carefully-worded explanation to start early in the morning.

But that only took care of one of your problems, and only temporarily at that. Now you were left with the issue of finding other sleeping accommodations since your room was currently not habitable. You had no choice but to ask for another room and, of course, Hux thought that to be the perfect time to crack a sarcastic joke about throwing you into one of the prisoner cells.

You had never, in all your years of being alive, glared so fiercely at another human being as you did then. And in your moment of anger, you accidentally let your walls down and let your thoughts run freely through your head – your annoyance directed at the General, but also at Kylo Ren, being exposed.

You felt it before you saw it – that little prickle in your head, that little sting of your mind being probed – and only a second later, Kylo Ren turned his masked head in your direction, walked up to you with patronizingly slow steps and spoke:

“I think you’ll find that General Hux’s quarters will suffice for the night, until repairs can be done to your own. He has more than enough space for both of you.”

He turned his head to look at the baffled man standing behind him, all of the attitude he had previously been harboring against you now completely melted away.

“Isn’t that right, General?” Kylo continued asking, giving him the time he needed to regain his composure.

The general in question had never been very good at holding his tongue, not even when receiving orders from superiors, and was quick to protest.

As anyone would’ve been able to guess, that didn’t go very well, and you weren't even gonna try hiding the satisfaction you got from seeing Hux be force-choked against a wall for speaking out of turn.

No matter how good both of you were at hiding your spiteful thoughts toward him, Kylo knew how much the two of you hated him. And more than anything, he knew how much you hated each other.

Kylo had become very predictable to you during the time you had been there and you knew his ways good enough to know that he wouldn’t have wasted petty energy in putting the two most hateful people he knew in the same room if he hadn’t been pushed to do so.

You knew that you weren’t the reason in this scenario, despite the fact that he had probably felt your spite directed towards him, which only left one option; and that option was the bitter, infuriatingly stubborn ginger currently walking by your side.

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye and glared, clenching and unclenching your fists at your sides in the same manner you had been doing ever since Kylo had ruled his decision final and dismissed you for the night.

His eyes remained trained on the metallic corridor that seemed to be stretched out for miles in front of you and your blood boiled at the sight.

You would’ve lost your shit if he’d had the nerve to even consider looking at you after putting you in this situation, but at the same time, you were also on the verge of losing your shit about him having the audacity to ignore you.

You wanted to scream at him like you’d never screamed at anyone before, but you knew that doing that would only fuel the petty grudge Kylo had against the two of you and give him more ways to cause you torment. The only thing you and the general would ever have in common was not wanting that.

But still, what harm could a tiny bit of friendly banter do?

“You just couldn’t help yourself, could you, Armitage?” The question you’d been sucking on for the past few minutes finally slipped out into the air, making your anger known.

“Don’t call me that.”

“My apologies.” You sarcastically shot back with a dry laugh. “You just couldn’t help yourself, could you, general?”

“No, it was awfully tempting.” Was all that he replied, his eyes not once flickering and neither his stone-cold scowl nor fast-paced stride faltering.

Well, you might have absolutely despised each other but in the very least, you never bothered lying to each other. That had to count for something, right? Not that either of you cared.

No more words were exchanged, and that was probably for the best. Engineers and stormtroopers all moved out of your way as the two of you marched through the corridors, side by side, knowing better at this point than to get on your bad sides when you were together and this obviously angry both with each other and in general.

Soon enough, you finally reached the corridor in which Hux’s sleeping quarters were located and once the mechanic doors slid open, you pushed yourself past him into the room before he even got the chance to react.

He fumed behind you as he watched you make yourself at home, dropping your dirty jacket on his perfectly made bed.

“You’ll take the floor, then?” You asked as you turned around, crossing your arms over your chest and shooting him a forced smile.

“Hardly.” He spat, eyes narrowing, and you scoffed, rolling your eyes in return.

“You must be a real hit with the ladies with those manners.”

At that, he stepped further into his room, allowing the sensory-triggered door to shut behind him, successfully shutting the two of you in together.

“I don’t have time for fooling around with women.” He spat out the last word with such malice that you automatically raised an eyebrow.

“Well, that explains it.” You mused, the corner of your lip tugging upwards ever so slightly.

“Explains what, exactly?” His eyes narrowed further, and this time it was his turn to cross his arms.

“That stick you have up your ass.” You wasted no time in shooting back, and before he got a chance to reply, you continued. “I know this might be news to you seeing as you’re, well, you, but gentlemen are supposed to sacrifice their comfort and offer themselves to take the floor when a lady, due to unfortunate circumstances, is forced to stay in their room.”

You sarcastically smiled at him and sank down his bed, something that he, judging by the snarl overtaking his face, didn’t appreciate.

“You, a lady? That will be the day.” He scoffed. “Even calling you a woman is a stretch with your mannerisms.”

You could only roll your eyes.

“Well, I’m not sharing a bed with you.” The glare that had temporarily been exchanged for a teasing smirk returned to your face. “I’d rather share a bed with Millicent.”

As you said that, you picked up a single strand of cat hair from his bed, held it up for further inspection and raised your lip in disgust.

He stared at you dead serious, hands clasped behind his back and eyes burning holes into the side of your face.

“You’re allergic to cats.” He pointed out, making your head whip back around to face him with a glare equally as fierce as the one you were met with.

“Yes, that’s my point.” You deadpanned. “But it would seem that said point just went right over your thick-skulled head.”

“Do you think I am any happier about this than you are?” He scowled, and you stood up, slowly approaching him and coming to a stop right in front of him.

He took a small step back, a move that made your lip tug upward ever so slightly. The fact that he was so obviously not as tough as he wanted people to believe gave you a special kind of satisfaction and he knew it, judging by the way he only turned stiffer after that.

“You should be.” You smiled sweetly at him, keeping your eyes connected to his. “Because you’re sure as hell lucky I haven’t choked the life out of you yet for getting us into this situation in the first place.”

He glared and you glared right back, challenging, no, daring him to fight back. You knew that he wanted to, you could see that he wanted to, but in the end, not even he was that stupid.

So he said nothing, and once you realized you had finally managed to successfully back him into a corner, you backed away from him again and plastered on another forced, overly sweet smile.

“Now, I need to take a shower. I reek of burnt plastic.” You stated flatly and pushed past him, making a beeline for the one extra door in the room that you could only assume was his bathroom.

You heard the squeak of his shoes rubbing against the floor as he quickly turned around behind you, and then came the determined steps and the proximity of his body closing in on you. However, before he got the chance to object or reach you, you entered his bathroom and slammed the door shut in his face, smiling contently to yourself as you listened to the muffled string of curses that followed.

You didn’t spend any more time thinking about it, though, not wasting any time before doing what you came in there to do.

You got out of your horrid-smelling clothes, released your equally as nasty-smelling hait from its ponytail and stepped into the shower.

If there was one thing you appreciated a little extra about living at the Starkiller Base, it was that everyone used the same scented soap. Because that meant that you wouldn’t have to go around smelling specifically like Hux, but rather just like you always smelled.

Once you finished washing your hair and body, you had to stop and think for a bit.

Your clothes obviously still reeked and needed a proper wash before they could be worn again, and you obviously couldn’t go naked.

After much thought back and forth, you finally settled with your own leggings as they were the one piece of clothing from your previous attire that smelled the least of smoke, and a plain black, long-sleeved undershirt that you found in a pile of Hux’s clean laundry.

Once you vad gotten dressed, braided your hair and re-entered the bedroom accompanied by a stream of steam, you found it to be empty, Hux nowhere in sight.

You couldn’t deny that you wondered where he’d gone off to, but you shook your head free of his face pretty quickly, settling with believing that he just went to take his frustration out on some poor stormtrooper or low-rank intern like he so often did when things didn’t go his way, much like Kylo Ren beat the shit out of any control panel he could get his hands on.

While you awaited his return, you occupied yourself with going around the room and lighting the small night-lamps like you normally did in your own room before going to bed.

That obviously didn’t take long, however, so you were soon enough once again left alone with your boredom and started walking around the room, inspecting all of Hux’s belongings.

You realized pretty quickly that he was not a person to whom inanimate things had much sentimental value, as he definitely didn’t have much to his name aside from the basic interior that all of the sleeping quarters on the base had.

He had a ring on his drawer, a few books in one of his two bookshelves while the other stood empty, a small bed in a corner for his cat, clothes in his wardrobe, and that was pretty much it. He had no pictures of family, no real personal belongings that could signify any kind of emotional value.

But then again, who did in these parts?

“Is that my shirt?”

You jumped when you heard the sudden voice behind you, quickly turning around where you stood twirling the ring you had found in the light of the lamp standing beside you.

Your eyes found his form immediately, shocked meeting stern.

“Why are you wearing my shirt?” He almost instantly repeated himself when not getting a reply the first time, slowly beginning to walk in your direction with his hands clasped behind his back.

You quickly put the ring back down on the dresser and turned towards him, regaining your composure.

“Well, if you hadn’t noticed, my room and everything in it was burnt to a crisp. The smokey smell on my clothes was giving me a headache and kind of would have ruined the purpose of taking a shower so when I just so conveniently noticed a pile of clean clothes, I helped myself.” You shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, and to you, it wasn’t.

Hux, however, didn’t seem amused in the slightest.

“Yes, you seem to have a habit of thinking you’re entitled to everything you want.” He spat back at you, coming to a stop while there was still a good amount of distance between the two of you.

Any chill you had previously had melted right off and your annoyance quickly returned at the sound of his words.

“Oh, do excuse me. I just thought one headache would be enough.” You retorted and rolled your eyes, before sighing and crossing your arms over your chest. “So, how are we doing this? It’s late and I need to be up early to see to the repairs.”

“I thought that I made myself clear.” Hux was quick to scoff, his glare not faltering for as much as a second. “I’m not giving you my bed.”

Once again, all you could do was roll your eyes. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to suck it up then.” You stated flatly and sat down on the bed, wasting no time in starting to divide the pillows into two piles rather than one.

You took a few seconds to adjust the pillows to suit your needs before looking back up, eyebrow raised at the fact that he had yet to say or do anything.

Your eyes once again met his and you almost laughed out loud at the sight you were faced with, but thankfully managed to control yourself and avoid making the situation even harder than it already was.

Long story short, Hux had never looked more horrified than he did in that moment.

He basically looked at you like you had killed his cat, and that was putting it lightly.

You took a few seconds to just enjoy watching him squirm and silently scramble to make sense of the situation, but even you knew when enough was enough and raised a questioning eyebrow at him in an attempt to get him moving.

“Well? What’s it going to be?” You asked. “It’s either this or the floor, just like it was for me.”

Hux opened his mouth, hesitated, and then closed it again. He obviously hadn’t been expecting you to actually agree on sharing his bed with him and now that you had, he was left at loss for words as he clearly hadn’t been preparing for anything other than you sleeping on the floor.

But after a good moment of just standing there and looking like an idiot, he finally picked himself back up, squared his shoulders and walked around the bed to the other side with frustrated strides and a snarling lip.

The feigned confidence melted right off, however, when he reached his destination and awkwardly shuffled into bed while simultaneously avoiding your amused and mocking stare, silently grabbing the extra blanket that was folded upon his bedside table.

Both of you laid down on your backs and a heavy silence fell like a thick blanket over the room. The only sound you could hear for a few moments were each other’s breaths and your own heartbeats. For a moment, only for a microscopical moment, you were actually on your way to admit to yourself that it was kind of nice.

But that thought went flying out the window just as quickly as it had knocked on the door of your mind when Hux broke the silence by beginning to adjust himself to get ready to sleep, and in the process of doing so made the active choice to tug the pillows from right under your head.

The back of your head hit the mattress with a soft thump and you closed your eyes, your lips pulling into a straight, tight line and one, sharp breath being released through your nose as you attempted to keep your cool.

You took a moment to calm down, before you turned your head to his side of the bed where he now laid with his back to you and tugged the pillows back – maybe with a little too much force than necessary.

Hux had quickly rolled over to his other side to take them back and in anger and an eagerness to get to sleep, you exclaimed: “Stop stealing the pillows!”

He met you with a stare cold enough to have anyone else shaking in their boots and spat back. “They’re my pillows.”

You grumbled under your breath and let go of one of the two pillows, letting him pull it back to his side while you held on to the last one.

You stared at each other for a moment, both of you eventually coming to a silent, mutual agreement that you were too tired to fight and therefore he'd let you keep the pillow you were holding on to as if your life depended on it.

He, once again, laid down and turned his back to you, his hands holding on to the pillows under his head while you struggled to get comfortable again, this time with only one pillow.

“Why is your bed so damn hard?” You muttered under your breath as you angrily shoved your elbow into the mattress in an attempt to make it more comfortable – as if that was ever going to help.

“Stop complaining.” He only snapped back.

“How could I when I’m stuck in a bed with you?”

“You could’ve asked for other accommodations when you had the chance.”

“And what, be the next victim of Ren’s lightsaber?” You scoffed. “I’m the one in charge of the repairs that are needed every time he throws a wobbly. I’ve seen the kind of damage that thing can do and I’m not in any hurry to find myself at the receiving end of it.”

You muttered the last part under your breath as you finally managed to get relatively comfortable, plopping back down on your back and folding your hands over your stomach.

“How did you know I’m allergic to cats, anyway?” The question spilled out before you could stop yourself, and before you could even register that it was on the way.

Where did that even come from? Cats weren’t even close to being the subject at hand.

Hux didn’t seem to care much about the random change of subject, however, simply muttering back a reply. “You start sniffling and scratching your arms every time you’re in the same room as me for more than five minutes.”

He was clearly tired. Tired in general or just tired of you, you didn’t really know, but you guessed that it was a mixture of both since that was the case for you.

“Maybe I’m just allergic to you.” You muttered back with a shrug, even though he couldn’t see you, and he scoffed at that.

“Had that been the case I’m fairly certain it would go both ways and, unlike you, I don’t go around oozing snot everywhere I go.”

“I don’t go oozing snot everywhere.” You calmly protested, throwing the back of his head a disapproving glare before turning to lay on your side so that your back was now turned to his.

He didn’t say anything else and neither did you, sleep coming in and catching you completely by surprise and having you knocked out within the next two minutes.

When you woke up early that next morning, Hux was unsurprisingly already gone, Millicent instead laying in his place and looking right at you.

With a disgusted snarl and hesitant movements, you reached over to the other side of the bed and awkwardly patted her head twice, probably very much in the incorrect manner as you had no experience whatsoever with animals.

You got out of bed after that, put on your jacket and shoes, and wasted no time in getting to work once you’d gotten some food into your system, your team joining you in the damage-inflicted area to start on repairs like you’d done so many times before.

Everything was going fine and dandy, just a light-reckon day that started off like any other – if you didn’t count waking up in Hux’s bed with his cat – but a few hours into your workday, the unmistakable sound of Kylo Ren’s heavy steps could be heard echoing through the entire corridor you found yourself working in.

A big share of the Order’s pilots had been either killed or badly hurt a few days prior in an ambush. No one had expected any pilots to be needed for at least a few days but Kylo had gotten a sudden lead on the map that would take him to Luke Skywalker and was now walking around the base recruiting anyone capable of helping him get what he wanted.

Unfortunately for you, you were not only a highly-ranked engineer, but also a pretty decent pilot, and couldn’t say anything in protest when you were whisked away to a ship.

As anyone who wasn’t driven by an unhealthy obsession would have been able to guess, the lead was just too good to be true with a way too simple access.

Just like the last lead, this one fell through when it was revealed to be another ambush. You weren’t completely sure what happened, but over the comms, you had heard something about Leia Organa and some scavenger.

You didn’t have time to think about retired war heroes though, no matter how much you’d love to pry and the get in on the gossip, as you had to shoot yourself through a big fleet of Resistance starfighter corps, barely getting through with your ship intact.

Your fellow pilots were shot down one by one, only a small amount of you managing to get out of there. And even then, you were met by more starfighter corps just as quickly as you’d gotten away from the last line.

Everything was just a mess after that. You weren’t able to get through to anyone over the comms, only barely being able to make out a “pull back!” before your comm system was blown to pieces along with one of your main engines.

Along with several other ships, you were forced to crash-land on a small planet filled with thick woods and when your ship collided with the ground, your head slammed into the controls, rendering you unconscious for who knows how long.

By the time you came back to it, you were hanging upside down, the only thing preventing you from falling down being the seatbelt keeping you strapped in.

You struggled to get out of there but you managed, and had to take a moment to get your surroundings to stop spinning before moving forward to look for survivors as well as a ship that wasn’t completely beyond salvation.

You weren’t sure who you’d find, but the person you’d shared a bed with the previous night was definitely the last person you’d expect to have crashed in the same place as you.

And still, you recognized his ship immediately. After all, you were the one who had personalized it to fit his liking.

Lucky for you, his ship seemed to have gotten a pretty soft landing. As you circled around it, you were able to determine that no major engines had been blown out. Damaged? Definitely. But they looked intact enough to at least be able to put some more distance between you and the Resistance pilots and get you to a safer place. Hopefully, the inside would be as untouched as the outside.

The ramp was lowered to the ground but didn’t look broken, so you wasted no time in jogging inside.

The lights were out completely in the entrance area, and just flickering in the ceiling when you came further in.

The first thing you noticed when you entered the piloting pit was that the pilot was not breathing. How could you tell from that far a distance? Well, let’s just say that something that was not supposed to be stuck in his eye, was stuck in his eye.

Upon further inspection, you noticed another body on the floor. However, this one was very much alive.

You would’ve expected to be met by a desperate “help me”, maybe even some begging and pleading or in the very least a “please”, but instead, even when in the process of bleeding out on the floor, Hux narrowed his eyes at you as you approached him and asked you with ragged breaths:

“Is that my shirt?”

You panted as you dropped to your knees at his side, still pretty shaken up from your own crash. “What? No.” You replied in a breath, and you wasted no time in starting to inspect his injuries.

“Yes, it is.”

“Why would I be wearing your shirt?” You asked simply, struggling to see in the dark as the flickering lights weren’t providing much assistance by means of light.

“That’s my shirt.” He kept insisting, and flinched when your hand made contact with his lower abdomen.

Only then did your eyes register the glimmering piece of metal through your blurred and disoriented vision, sticking out of his side.

You flinched at the sight, not needing any more light than you had to know that it was really bad.

Your heart suddenly picked up in speed in your chest, and your hands began shaking as they became covered in his blood.

You had never been in the middle of the action before now, you’d always just been surrounded by metal and electricity. The most exciting thing you’d ever experienced was when a new engineer circuited a control panel the wrong way, resulting in it blowing up right by your workplace.

But it wasn’t the action in itself that had your heart about ready to burst through your chest, nor was it the blood in general, but rather the fact that it was his blood covering your hands.

His life was completely dependent on you at this moment and you had absolutely no idea how to behave accordingly.

But if there was something you knew, it was that the last thing you were supposed to do was to show a dying man your panic, so you took a deep breath and tried your hardest to steady your racing heart, going back to the conversation at hand.

“How could you tell the difference, really?” You asked. “All of our shirts look the same. All black, all equally as sufficient when used to stop blood flows.”

As you said that last part, you released another breath and ripped off a big chunk of the lower part of the shirt you were wearing.

A shirt that was, in fact, Hux's.

The man in question let his head fall back against the wall that he was propped against and his eyes squeezed shut when feeling your hands return to his side.

“Do you always wear shirts several sizes too big?” He managed to get out through clenched teeth and you replied without missing a beat.

“There was a mix-up in the laundry room.”

“So it isn’t your shirt?” He continued to be persistent and despite the seriousness of the situation, you couldn’t help but to let a small smile slip.

“Do you want to keep fighting about whether or not this shirt is mine or would you rather maybe, oh, I don’t know, focus on getting the hell out of here?” You asked him lightly and at that, he raised his head to meet your eyes with a distrusting glare.

“Why are you helping me?”

You raised your eyebrow at him, sparing just a second to meet his eyes. “You have a piece of metal stuck in your side, why the hell would I not help you?” You asked and as quickly as you had looked up, you looked back down at your hands to see what you were doing.

“You hate me, and I hate you.” He deadpanned, and you couldn’t deny you felt your heart tug in your chest.

“Who told you I hated you?” You asked, and listened as he let out a dry, struggling laugh.

“You did. On countless occasions.”

He hissed when you accidentally bumped your hand against the piece of metal. You quietly apologized but didn’t stop, knowing you didn’t have much time before the enemy would catch up with you.

“Thinking that I’m entitled to everything I want isn’t the only bad habit I have. I also have a tendency to overexaggerate.” You joked with a smile. “I do find you insufferably infuriating, though.”

Another chuckle left his lips. “Likewise.” He said and dropped his head back against the wall.

You said nothing more, ripping another two pieces off of the shirt, tying them together and wrapping it around his waist like you had the first piece. You tightened this knot significantly more than the first one, though, right above the piece of metal, and just as quickly as he had relaxed, he jerked back forward with a yell.

“I need to stop the bleeding, you need to keep still.” You hurriedly scolded and sternly pushed him back down by his chest.

He muttered bitterly in return, but didn’t protest.

“I bet you’re enjoying this.” He seethed, and you raised an eyebrow, a small smile playing on your lips.

“Whenever I’m feeling down, I just think back to the multiple times I’ve had the pleasure of witnessing you being force-thrown across a room by Ren. Puts a smile on my face every time. But that doesn’t automatically mean I want you to die. So stop wallowing in your internalized self-hatred and put your hand over mine.” You told him, trying your hardest to keep a lighthearted attitude, more so for your own sake than his at this point as you were literally about to pass out.

But he did as told, contributing with the strength he had left when you got to your feet and started pulling him up and into one of the seats that were still intact.

He put a trembling hand over yours and in turn, you put your other one over his and pushed down. He hissed and you gave him a moment to adjust, and when you were sure he was pressing hard enough with his own hand, you slowly removed both of yours and fastened his seatbelt.

“Keep pressure and hold on tight. This is most likely going to be a rough ride.” You warned him, and he slowly looked up at you through a mess of ginger hair.

“It can’t be any worse than the ride here.” He retorted and you nodded, taking that as a “go ahead”.

You wasted no time in getting into the pilot’s seat after pulling the previous pilot out, as well as the thick tree branch on which his head had been impaled, and started up the controls. It took a few tries to get out of the hole the ship hade gotten stuck in when crashing, but soon enough you were up in the sky.

With a bit of dumb luck, you eventually reached your destination and got brought back in to the base by your team of fellow engineers, all ready to repair the wrecked ship.

Hux was immediately taken to the medical bay while you stayed behind to help with the ships, and from two ends of the base, the two of you silently and separately came to realize that maybe, just maybe, you didn’t hate each other as much as you thought, after all.

#hux x reader #hux imagine #hux #armitage hux #armitage hux x reader #armitage hux imagine #general hux #general hux imagine #general hux x reader #domnhall gleeson #star wars #star wars imagine #star wars x reader #kylo ren #knights of ren #the first order

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there-must-be-a-lock · 3 years

Text

Red

Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 3680

Warnings: Kink and trauma. You know, in case you forgot whose blog you were on! Night terrors. Non-graphic flashbacks to violence, very graphic smut. Bucky’s head is just not a very fun place? References to brainwashing and torture. Kink discovery, including some hitting/slapping during sex and some power/control fantasies, all within the context of a very happy relationship. It goes down dark but there’s a distinctly soft aftertaste.

A/N: For @cockslut-padalecki and her Decade Under The Influence challenge. My prompt was “The Crimson” by Atreyu. Thanks for always hosting the absolute best challenges, and congrats on the milestone!

Pre-reads by @thoughtslikeaminefield @mskathywriteswords and @fangirlxwritesx67. Inspiration from that scene where Sebastian Stan gets slapped. You know the one I mean.

The companion fic to this will be coming soon! It’s significantly darker and way outside my wheelhouse, but please let me know if you want a tag.

The Soldier stalks silently down the hallway to the bedroom, scanning the shadows.

The closet.

Something itches, deep under the ice: knowledge that closets are for hiding —

— a small girl, giggling in the back corner of the closet —

— ready or not, here I come —

— but those frozen things don’t belong to the Soldier.

He opens the door and finds the woman on the floor, trying to hide in the darkness. He picks her up by the throat. Moonlight from the open window glints off her wide eyes and the Soldier’s metal hand. She fights back, clawing at his arm uselessly.

He waits for her to stop struggling. They always do.

Bucky opens his eyes and bolts upright, gritting his teeth against the sweaty, shivery wave of nausea.

It takes a moment for the numbing chill of the Soldier’s memory to fade.

He knows it’s a memory. He lost so many things in the deep emptiness of cryo-sleep, but he couldn’t bury them forever, and now they claw their way out while he dreams. The darkness gives him back his life, one nightmare at a time.

Sometimes he wakes up screaming. Sometimes he wakes up convinced that the bed under him is soaked with blood, and it takes a few awful seconds to realize that he just sweated through the sheets. Other times he’s paralyzed in the darkness, convinced he’s back in the cryo chamber, and he wants to punch and claw and fight his way out, wants to see the sun again, but he tried that one too many times — he learned his lesson about wanting things.

At least he didn’t wake her this time. She makes a breathy sound as she stirs, but she’s still sound asleep, and when he inspects his hands in the glow of her night light, there’s no trace of red.

She got the light about two months ago, when he started sleeping over. She didn’t ask him, didn’t mention it — he would’ve been embarrassed, if she asked, but it helps. She helps.

He’s goddamn crazy about her. It hasn’t been long, but he knows this is it for him.

Bucky curls up facing her. Her hair is a mess, and there’s a damp patch of drool on the pillow under her slack mouth, and she’s beautiful. It’s amazing that she trusts him enough to fall asleep next to him.

He closes his eyes. This time he doesn’t dream.

The end credits of the movie start to scroll down the screen, and she makes a grumbling noise that means she doesn’t want to get up and turn the TV off. Her little apartment is full of the rich smell of whatever she’s got in the oven, and the day has been so sweetly domestic that Bucky wonders when everything will start to twist and distort and go bloody. He must be hallucinating.

But the hallucinations always had a sort of airbrushed quality to them when they started, an inhuman perfection that felt easy, like he was floating. Right now his stomach is growling, and when she shifts, her elbow digs into his side, and she’s a heavy comforting warmth on top of him.

The hallucinations were the product of his own brain, which might be why they came back all too quickly when he started to recover his memories. Even when he couldn’t remember his sisters’ faces, he remembered the drug-fueled torture that took place behind his closed eyelids, scenes that started like fantasies and ended like nightmares.

Most memories from before the fall are weak and hazy, sepia-toned afterimages that overlay the living world like ghosts. Other things bleed through the decades, making it hard to keep track of whose memories he’s seeing. The Soldier’s memories are always sharp and cold, and they’re the hardest to shake off. Sometimes they’re triggered by the present, and it’s always a surprise; he’s stepping into a crosswalk and the past is washing over him like —

The water from the hose is freezing cold as the handler rinses off the blood —

— and he’s still staring down at the slushy puddle, but —

— the Soldier keeps his eyes down, clenching his jaw to stop his teeth from chattering, watching the red swirl over the cold cracked tile and disappear down the drain, and —

Bucky has to fight to hold on to the honking taxis and the Brooklyn stink, because the cryo chamber is quiet like a coffin in the last few seconds before he’s frozen into unconsciousness, and —

— and sometimes he feels frozen even when the dreams dissolve, even when he knows they’re only dreams.

The frigid paralysis was mental more than physical, for the Soldier, and that’s a hard thing to shake. The raw human parts of him iced over, head and heart numb while his body carried on following orders.

She sits up and stretches, making her shirt ride up, and he notices bruises on her hips, wrapping around the side.

“Did I do that?” he asks, voice thin.

She looks down like she didn’t notice. “Probably.”

He tugs the waistband of her yoga pants down a little and finds the shape of a handprint, stained purple. She twists to show him a matching set on the other side. They’re more defined on the side he was gripping with his metal hand last night. He feels cold all over.

“Sorry.”

“No biggie.”

He’s too scared to meet her eyes. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I would never hurt you.”

“What if I asked you to?” she tosses back, playful and easy.

Bucky doesn’t know how to react to that. He can’t let her see how badly he wants that, so he just freezes like a deer in headlights, forcing himself to go still, to shut down, to say nothing.

“Whoa, hey, don’t do that,” she says, and she moves into his space slowly, deliberately, giving him time to tell her to stop. He blinks at her, and she smiles, soothing.

He spent the first month of their relationship waiting for her to turn and run. It’s gotten better, but…

“Why the hell do you trust me?” he blurts out.

She frowns, and hesitates, and he wants to reach up and smooth out the little frown line that forms between her eyebrows, but he doesn’t. She curls up against him and kisses his jaw.

“Would you ever choose to hurt me?” she asks.

“No.”

“There you go.” He feels the movement when she shrugs, as if it’s that easy. “You control your choices. That’s it.”

“But I —”

“No buts,” she interrupts, and her voice is firm. “I choose to trust you and you don’t get to talk me out of it.”

Bucky lets out a huff of not-quite-laughter at that. She’s stubborn as hell when she wants to be, and he knows better than to argue.

“Okay,” he says, and wraps his arms around her, kissing the top of her head. She settles closer, her breath a warm damp tickle against the side of his neck.

His body used to be a weapon.

“You can’t blame yourself for things that are out of your control,” she mumbles, as if she heard him.

He takes a deep breath and says it again: “Okay.”

He can see her reflection in the mirror; she bites her lip, teeth white against her bright red lipstick, trying to hold back, but the whimpers are getting louder by the second as he fucks her harder. She’s bracing herself with her forearms on the sink, her entire body shaking with each sharp thrust.

“Shhhh,” Bucky says, half-laughing, but he doesn’t slow down.

He’s pretty sure this was her plan all along. They barely made it an hour into the party before she tugged him into the bathroom, and usually he would protest, but he’s been half-hard since he first saw her in that damn outfit.

She opened the door earlier looking like a pinup, complete with glossy curls and red lips and this dress: flared skirt, nipped-in waist, curves threatening to spill over the scooped-low neckline. He had just stuttered for a few seconds as a wisp of memory cast a sepia glow over her pleased smile.

He used to have a dog-eared print of one of those calendar girls, and it was tame compared to some that were carried to war, but there was something warm in her smile that made him hold onto it. He used to daydream about her waiting at home, welcoming him at the door, when everything else was heavy and grey. He used to look at her smile when he couldn’t bear to close his eyes, knowing he’d only see blood. They took it when he was captured, of course, but he used to imagine —

— this, he used to imagine this, the way the skirt is rucked up around her hips and she’s bent at the waist, the way she stretches open around the shiny-wet length of his cock.

He has a flash of certainty that this is just a fantasy, something he’s imagining desperately as he fucks his own fist and tries not to make a sound, pressing his other palm to his mouth to muffle his labored breathing. He’s picturing this so vividly that when he opens his eyes and sees the stars, framed by the caved-in ceiling of another bombed-out shell of a building, he’ll have to fight back tears of disappointment.

The sight of her face in the mirror is utterly pornographic, threatening to send him over the edge too soon, but when he looks down, he can see the way her ass bounces and jiggles as she shoves herself back to meet each thrust, and that’s goddamn obscene too. Bucky’s imagination has never been this good.

She’s so close, too close to stay silent, and just as she lets out a high-pitched, keening moan, there are footsteps right outside the door.

He reacts instinctively, before he can think better of it; he slaps his hand over her mouth, muffling the sound against his palm — the metal one, he realizes, a split-second too late.

Their eyes meet in the mirror for one wild heartbeat. Her skin looks dangerously soft under silver fingers that could so easily break the fragile jawbone they grip.

Then her eyes roll back in her head, and her orgasm blindsides both of them with its intensity. If he wasn’t silencing her, she would’ve shouted, he’s pretty sure; she spasms violently against his grip, writhing like she’s trying to shake him off, and —

— he imagines her struggling, fighting back, until he pins her against the wall and —

— it hits him like a gut-punch. He doubles over, curling himself around her as he comes with a rough shocked grunt, and the white-out lightning-bolt electroshock feel of it is so incredible he forgets, for a few seconds; he just buries his face in those curls and kisses the nape of her neck.

He straightens up and realizes her lipstick is smeared over the metal hand, deep crimson red.

“God, we’re a mess,” she laughs breathlessly. She turns to kiss him, eyes sparkling, and then they have to clean up, put themselves back together, and he brushes it off.

It was probably a memory, a ghost whose features he confused with hers in one fevered second. Unwanted memories —

— dreams — flashbacks — fantasies — hallucinations —

— invade his reality every day.

It didn’t feel like a memory, though.

She smiles, and there’s no doubt in his mind that the smile is real, so Bucky swallows his guilt and smiles back. Her hand is warm in his.

There’s a knife in his hand and blood on the floor.

It’s messy, but those were his orders. Easier to frame the mistress this way. At least the carving knife was sharp. Red drips down the blade onto the metal fingers.

He’s about to place it next to the corpse when he hears the gasp. The mistress had been asleep four minutes ago, but people are unpredictable that way.

Messy.

The Soldier pivots, finds her standing in the doorway, hand over her mouth, eyes wide. She’s paralyzed by fear, like a deer in headlights as he stalks closer. Usually they run. Sometimes they fight back. This one just stares.

“I won’t say anything,” she whispers. “I didn’t see —” He grabs her wrist, and she shrieks, trying to twist away, until he pins her against the wall and holds her in place. Tears start to roll down her cheeks. “No, please, I’ll do anything you want — just don’t kill me! You can — anything, I promise, I won’t struggle! Do you want —”

“Want” is buried deep under the ice. “Want” is for bodies that are warm and soft and human. The Soldier is a weapon.

He presses the knife into her hand and forces her fingers to close around the handle. She was supposed to be asleep.

She’ll be blamed, one way or another, but maybe it’s better this way. Cleaner.

No witnesses. It’s an order.

Bucky wakes up. He’s trembling, sitting up with his hands twisted in the sheets, but it’s not as bad as it could be. She’s sitting up next to him, one gentle hand on his chest as she watches with wide sad eyes.

“Sorry,” he chokes out. “Fuck, I hate waking you up.”

“Almost time anyway,” she says, which is when he realizes that it’s morning. Sunlight is streaming in through the sheer curtains. He settles back against the headboard, taking it in. They’re both naked, with her big downy comforter around their waists, and the residual chill of memory thaws immediately in the cozy warmth of her bed.

She leans in hesitantly and brushes her lips against his. He can read the worry plain on her face — she doesn’t know what he needs right now — but he tugs her onto his lap, tilts his head back, mouth opening easily under hers for slow lazy kisses that stretch like taffy and then turn deep and dirty. She swears like a sailor as she sinks down slowly onto his cock.

Christ, she’s gorgeous.

It must be real. He could never hallucinate something so flawed and incredible as the way she looks naked, the stretch marks under his palms, the calluses on her fingers when she cups his jaw, the way she moans when he plants his feet on the bed and fucks up into her.

She’s flushed and dewy with sweat, moaning in the sharp bitten-off way that means he found just the right angle, and her thighs are shaking hard enough that he has to grip her hips and hold her steady. He can feel her starting to get close, clenching and flooded around him, when her alarm goes off.

“Cocksucking motherfucker,” she snarls.

They both look helplessly at the phone, just out of easy reach on the nightstand. Bucky’s tempted to just ignore it, but she’s already leaning over. She twists at the waist but doesn’t stop rocking her hips down against him, squeezing in little pulses like she can’t help herself, so he settles her more firmly on his lap, holding her weight and anchoring her as she reaches for it. He works his right hand down between them, an awkward angle that’s totally worth it when he can rub her clit with the pad of his thumb and feel her spasm around his cock.

“Five more minutes,” he suggests breathlessly.

“Not gonna need that long if you keep doing that.” She trembles and almost collapses before finally grabbing the phone, and she hits the snooze button immediately.

He’s already rolling his hips, grinding in deep, and he must hit something just right at the same moment she starts to straighten up; it makes her twitch, jerking uncontrollably against him as she moves, and her elbow cracks across his jaw, snapping his head to the side hard enough to rattle his teeth.

“Shit!” she hisses, and then: “I’m so sorry, I — are you —”

But the rough throb of pain hit like a swell of heat in Bucky’s gut, making him jerk up into her and shudder with pleasure. He lets his head loll, taking a deep heaving breath and letting it out as a moan.

It’s not until he tilts his head back to look at her stunned face that he realizes what just happened. His cheeks burn but she doesn’t look disgusted; her eyes go all heavy-lidded and she bites her lip as she starts to ride him again, swiveling her hips.

He’s opening his mouth to make some excuse, to deny it, when she leans in for a bruising kiss: teeth scraping his lower lip, a whimper rough in her throat, cunt silky-hot and soaked, so good his head is spinning.

Then she asks raggedly, “Do you want me to do that again?”

Without even thinking about it, he blurts out, “Yes.”

Her palm connects with his cheek, a sharp sting that draws a guttural sound from deep in his chest. He moves on pure primal instinct, gripping her hips to slam her down on his cock.

From there it’s rough and frantic and desperate. He’s only dimly aware of the way she moans, bucking against him, the way they’re moving against each other like animals, the way she bites his lip so hard he tastes copper and then he’s gone, coming so hard his vision goes white with the first intense pulses of it. She shudders as she follows him, riding out the shocks of pleasure with her forehead pressed to his and her hands in his hair.

He shivers against her, breath hitching as reality washes in like ice water.

“I can feel you freaking out,” she mumbles. “What, they didn’t have kink in the thirties?”

It surprises Bucky enough that he lets out a huff of laughter. “No. Not exactly.”

“Why is this freaking you out?”

He stutters for a second before he manages, “What’s wrong with me?”

She sits up and looks at him intently. “Fucking nothing.”

“That should be the last thing I want,” Bucky mutters, cheeks burning.

“That’s not how it works,” she snaps. “Sex isn’t — it doesn’t always make sense. It’s messy.”

“I’ve had enough of hurting people for a fuckin’ lifetime.”

There’s something vulnerable in her sheepish half-smile. “Sometimes your body likes shit it shouldn’t. You can’t control what gets you off. Believe me, sweetheart.”

He blinks, ready to question that, and she leans in for a quick kiss. As if on cue, her alarm goes off again.

“Fuck.”

“I gotta go,” she says reluctantly. “But later — later we’re going to talk about some things. Okay?”

He doesn’t say it out loud, but he thinks it very clearly in that moment: I love you.

“Okay.”

The Soldier pins her brutally against the wall, one hand around her wrists, the other around her throat. He doesn’t squeeze, not yet, just holds her there and savors the thrill; she’s writhing and lashing out at him like a caged animal, but he’s got her and she knows it.

It’s beautiful, the way she snarls and tries to struggle.

He wants —

— so this must be a normal dream, not a memory, but —

— he wants to fuck her just like this, up against the wall, and —

— his hips jerk and his cock throbs, and —

— fuck, he wants her.

“Baby?” Her voice comes out as a sleep-slurred moan.

He tries to blink away the dream, but instead he’s rolling over and pinning her, rocking his hips down before he can stop himself. She sucks in a breath, spreading her legs to meet the next slow thrust, and she blinks dazedly up at him, mouth dropping open as they rut against each other.

“What was it?” she asks, raspy and heated.

He lets out a pained sound and drops his head, hunching to bury his face in the crook of her neck. He’s so goddamn hard, so close, all over a fucked-up dream, and —

“I was holding you — up against the wall. Your wrists.”

“Yeah?” she says, voice smoky and eager. “Remember what we talked about?”

“Traffic lights. Red if you want me to stop.”

“Do it.”

Oh.

“Are you sure?”

“Fuck yes.”

He snatches her wrists and crosses them over her head, watching the way her lashes flutter at the touch of metal, the way she bites her lip. She shifts under him, squirming until the length of him is slotted up against her slickness and her legs are up around his hips.

He slides in slow, relishing every inch, her body welcoming him with living dripping heat. She arches up, and he adjusts his grip on her wrists, squeezing slightly as he braces himself. All he wants in the entire damn universe is to drive into her, piston his hips until she’s screaming, but he starts to fuck her with steady even thrusts, holding back, trying to let go of the last lingering doubts.

“Doesn’t this scare you?” Bucky asks hoarsely. “That you’re trapped.”

She lets out a moan that sure as hell doesn’t sound like fear. This isn’t a dream any more, but it still feels surreal.

“Yellow,” she says.

“Shit. What’s wrong?” He tries to pull away, but she’s got her ankles hooked, keeping him in place with her legs. He lets go of her wrists, at least, and hauls in a deep breath, trying to make sense of that fierce expression on her face.

“Nothing. I just wanted you to see that you’re in control. You chose to stop.”

He swallows hard. “Yeah. I did.”

“Stop punishing your body for wanting this,” she says.

His breath catches, and for a moment all he can do is stare. She gives him a smile so soft it threatens to rip him open.

Then he curls his fingers around her wrists again — they’re still crossed, right where he left them. He waits for her nod.

“Green.”

Companion fic is here.

#decadeundertheinfluencechallenge #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky x reader #MCU #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader

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dameronology · 3 years

Text

never doubt me {cassian andor}

summary: after falling into the hands of the empire, a situation of life and death forces you and cassian to finally talk about your feelings {for @megmeg-chan and i am sO sorry it’s taken me so long to do this}

summary: language, mentions of injury, talks ab death/loss in a canon kinda way

enjoy!! i haven’t written for cassian in so long and i forgot how much i loved him, so expect more of him in the future😌

- jazz

Cassian Andor was a filthy liar.

No, deep breath. He wasn't that bad.

The situation was just really fucking irritating and, in all likelihood, making your anger towards him a little more irrational. It wasn't really even his fault either. He'd told you incessantly that the mission was going to go well, and that you both going to be fine. Like, totally fiiiine, and that you would both get into the base without trouble and reunite in the middle, near the Imperial comms system. It was just that neither of you had planned for or expected stormtroopers to be present -- he'd gotten away in one piece, but you hadn't been so lucky.

That brings us to now: a cell, with two stormtroopers parked outside and quite literally no sign of Cassian anywhere. You knew he'd be looking for you; in fact, you didn't doubt it once. There was a sort of unspoken pact between you that you would always rescue one another; always have each other's backs and never leave the other behind. It was born from the fact that friendships were hard to forge in your line of work, and what you and Cassian had was rare. Not even just in the Rebellion, but rather life in general. On the surface, you teased and ripped into one another to no end. The chemistry was almost suffocating for the people around you, because they could never get a word in edge ways. Then, if you dug a little deeper, there was something more. Something sweeter, something more supportive. You knew him better than he knew himself and in return, he could read you like his favourite novel (though, admittedly, it did sometimes feel like you were missing a few pages. Human complexity and all that).

‘Do you feel like speaking now?’ The modulated voice of one of the stormtroopers came from the other side of your cell door.

‘I’ll die before telling you jackshit.’ You muttered. Hopefully that was more of a statement and less of a prophecy.

The trooper snorted. ‘Okay, sweetheart-’

‘- call me that again and I will shove that blaster sideways up your ass.’ You spat.

‘The only thing you’re doing is rotting here.’

With that, he turned his back to you again.

You slumped further down the wall, ignoring the feeling of the cold concrete etching through the thin fabric of your shirt. It was cold in here. Really, really fucking cold, and Cassian had said you wouldn’t need a jacket. Then again, he’d said a lot of things. And again, none of it was his fault, but you cursed yourself for so blindly listening to him. It was nice that you took everything the other said as gospel, even if it came back to bite you in the ass every so often.

‘A word of advice-’

‘- I don’t want any advice.’ You turned away from the trooper, pulling you knees to your chest.

‘The sooner you talk, the less painful it’ll be.’ He ignored your refusal.

You didn’t need to ask what he meant by it. You’d been part of the Rebellion long enough to have heard stories -- stories of torture, stories of war and the the kind of horrors that people often took to the grave. You had a fair few of your own, and so did Cassian. That was probably why he’d become so important to you. He was one of the only people in the galaxy who truly understood the downfalls of being a Rebel spy. Your cause was more important to you than anything (well, almost anything) and you wouldn’t have changed it for the world, but there were times like this where you wondered if it was all worth it. Would there ever come a day where the Empire truly fell, once and for all? And would you even be around to see it? Would Cassian?

Speaking of the devil, where the fuck was he? He never usually took this long. A few hours at most, but you’d long surpassed that. You could only very barely see the sky through the tiny window, but the sky had faded from powder blue to a dark navy, signalling it had been well over half a day. That was bad for multiple reasons -- the first being that the longer you were here, the more likely Cassian was to assume the worst and stop searching. Secondly, and perhaps most hauntingly, was that each passing second brought you closer to the Imps dragging you out the cell and taking you for questioning. And questioning, in their books, didn’t involve much talking. Go figure.

The injuries you sustained in your capture were bad enough; a bust lip, bruised eye and twisted ankle never made for much comfort. Even less so when you couldn’t get medical attention. The fact you knew it would be the least of your problems in a few hours made it all that much worst.

You’d never doubted Cassian Andor before. Not once. Couldn’t even fathom it, truth be told. He always came through for you; always saved your ass, whether it be from yourself or from Imps. He was your person. That’s the only way you could have put it.

But, above all, he was a human being. Not a super hero, or a miracle worker. He could only do so much and you knew he would. He would follow every lead and every clue to try and get to you, but that’s all he could do. If he couldn’t find you, that wasn’t him on him. You doubted that he would think the same, and when you heard the lock to your cell open, you could only hope and pray that he knew that. That you weren’t going to blame him for what was about to happen, or hold it against him.

‘It’s time.’ The stormtrooper announced. ‘Hope you can handle a bit of pain.’

You took a deep breath. ‘I can handle anything.’

‘I wouldn’t count on it.’ He guffawed. ‘Hands out.’

‘C’mon, man.’ You murmured. ‘My legs gone, my lips bust and my head feels someone’s dropped an iron anvil on it. You don’t need to cuff - ouch!’

You let out a squeak as he grabbed your wrists, tugging them forward and shoving a pair of metal cuffs on them. Was this really it? The end? Was your name gonna be the next one on the list of people lost in the Rebellion? That was if anybody even noticed.

Cassian would. Of course, Cassian would. It hurt your heart to think that you wouldn’t see him again, or get to say a proper goodbye. The last time you’d seen him, you’d been dragged away from him kicking and screaming. He’d been so close, and if he’d been just a little nearer when they’d got you, he might have been able to save you, to stop you from falling into the hands of the Empire. You always figured that if you were gonna die in the field, he’d be by your side. The dumbassery you so often found yourselves in usually happened together.

The walls of the Imperial base were dark - as if you’d expected anything else. It was hardly like the place was going to look like a bright, airy Ikea showroom. The only light came from the thousands of tiny red and blue buttons flickering on the wall, illuminating the hallways in what would have been a pretty glow if the circumstances weren’t so fucking miserable. Talk about a high way to hell.

You took another left, the trooper’s grip on you tightening as you neared some double towards the end. Yep, here it was. This is where you met your maker. And from what you’d heard, the six-foot-something guy in a black mask did not take prisoners. Not that he was the one you were thinking of. No, that was Cassian. Completely and entirely Cassian; just his face and his presence and his everything at the back of your mind, the last thing you could think of before you were about to die for your cause-

-you let out an oof! as the stormtrooper suddenly pulled you to the ground, practically using you as a human shield against the blaster fire and smoke grenade that had just come from behind you. You tried to use your elbows to push him off, but with the cuffs and your already existing injuries, he easily overpowered you. Also, you were too busy coughing from the smoke to even think about making a getaway.

Tumbling forward, you fell onto your hands and knees. The trooper’s gun clattered to the ground, and you used your good leg to kick it further out the way, eyes not moving from the cloud of smoke that come out of the grenade. The red and blue lights were beating down on it, casting a purple glow over the shadow of whoever had thrown it, acting as a guide as they finally emerged. With a blaster in one hand and the other curled into a fist, your best friend had never quite looked so handsome, especially under the violet illuminations.

‘Cassian!’ Despite everything, you couldn’t help but grin.

‘Duck.’ He demanded.

You did as he said, flopping back to the floor. Squeezing your eyes shut and covering your head, you stayed there for a moment. There was another blast, and then the trooper’s body fell beside yours with a dull thud!

Then, in what must have been two of most contrasting feelings ever, a warm pair of hands found yours. Cassian’s, undoubtedly. You would have known them anywhere. He pulled you up from the cold ground, warm palms finding your face as they ghosted over your cheeks.

‘It’s okay.’ His voice was soft. ‘You can open your eyes.’

You took a deep breath. ‘I know. Thank you.’

‘How badly are you hurt?’ He asked. ‘Because we need to move fast.’

‘My foot’s pretty wrangled.’ You said.

Without another word, Cassian threw an arm over your shoulders, tucking it under your arms to support you.

‘Lean against me.’ He instructed. ‘The exit isn’t too far-’

‘- what about the other troopers?’ You asked.

‘I dealt with them on my way in.’

And dealt with them, he certainly had. The men were practically laying in unconscious piles (he only ever intended to maim, but never kill), working as some kind of fucked up map out of a twisted and horrible maze. The pain in your leg only grew worst as you moved, your good leg beginning to ache from carrying all the weight. With all your attention focused ahead of you for potential enemies, you didn’t even notice how close you were to stumbling over -- not until you fell back onto the cold lino floors.

‘Hey.’ Cassian dropped beside you. ‘Look at me, okay, just...look at me.’

You glanced up, tired eyes meeting his warm, brown ones. ‘It really hurts, Cass.’

‘We’re really close now.’ He said. ‘Two more minutes. Can you do that? For me?’

‘Yeah.’ You took a deep breath and nodded. ‘I can.’

(Because really, for him, you’d do anything.)

Cassian helped you back up, pressing one of his blasters into your hand. His arm returned to hold you by the waist, gripping you a little tighter this time. Your leg was practically screaming in pain, a dull ache shooting from your ankle up to your knee. You had to remind yourself that in a few minutes, it would all be over - and not in the way you thought it was going to be over an hour ago. Over, as in this whole ordeal would simply be something to report back to your bosses at base, and not your final moments. The fact you ever let yourself accept that fate and think that Cassian wouldn’t come for you was something else entirely in itself.

You almost cried with relief when you saw his battered old ship docked outside the base. You normally cried for other reasons when you saw it - usually ones to do with the rusty old engines and creaking sound it insisted on making whenever it flew - but right then, you had never been happier to see it. Even if the insides smelt weirdly of petrol and oil, and the seats in the cockpit were made of uncomfortable cracked leather, you practically threw yourself on board.

Neither you nor Cassian said anything for a while. His attention was completely on getting away from the base and avoiding TIE fighters - something he did without ever moving his hand from your thigh - and yours was on steadying your breathing and heartbeat. It had been a rough twelve hours to say the least.

Once the ship had lurched into hyperspace, he turned in his chair to face you. He held your gaze for a moment, before opening his arms out and letting you flop from your own seat and into his chest. They tightly wrapped around you, one hand softly your head to his body and the other gently rubbing up and down your back. You had to squeeze your eyes shut to stop your tears from spilling.

‘I’m sorry.’ He murmured.

‘For what?’ You peered up at him with a frown.

‘Not finding you sooner.’ He replied. ‘Or for even letting you get caught in the first place-’

‘- Cassian, stop.’ You pulled back and tangled his hands in yours. ‘Once I get some bactaspray, I’ll be totally fine.’

‘But you almost weren’t.’ He shot back. ‘If I was just a few minutes later and you could have been a thousand times worst, or even...gone completely.’

‘That’s beside the point.’ You softly sighed. ‘It’s doesn’t matter would have beens or could have beens. I am here and I will be okay.’

‘You’re right.’ He nodded. ‘I’m sorry. I just...I want to protect you, you know? And I failed.’

‘You don’t need to protect me, Cass.’ You shook your head with a soft smile. ‘Actually, no, today I did but you pulled through.’

‘I don’t need to, but I want to.’ Cassian murmured.

He’d done a pretty good job at sitting on his feelings for the last few years. Pushed them down when he felt the urge to tell you, and ignored them entirely when they got really intense. But that had been when the threat of completely losing you was just that: a threat. A distant possibility, and one that you were both too busy living your lives to fully consider. Now, however, you’d come close. Too close. Cassian had come face-to-face with a reality where you were gone, and one where he’d never actually told you how he felt.

‘You know I love you, right?’ He quietly said.

‘Yeah, I know.’ You nodded.

‘No, I mean I love you.’

You peered up at him, realising what he was getting at. You did know. In fact, it had very much been an unspoken thing between you for a very, very long time. It was really just a matter of saying it - but that was always the hardest part, right?

‘I know.’ You repeated. ‘I love you too.’

‘You do?’

You softly laughed. ‘Of course I do.’

He pressed a soft kiss to your temple and pulled you back against his chest, chin resting atop your ahead. ‘Good.’

You stayed like that for a few minutes; it was undoubtedly a deeper conversation you were going to have later on, but it felt good to have it out in the open. So good, in fact, that it momentarily made you forget the last day entirely. Instead of pondering on it, you let yourself get lost entirely in Cassian’s presence, and the feeling of his body against yours and and his arms holding you. If you could have it your way, you would have stayed like this forever. The rest of the galaxy could wait.

‘I’m sorry if you thought I was going to make in time.’ He said quietly.

‘I didn’t.’ Your voice was slightly muffled by his chest. ‘Not once.’

‘I love you.’ Cassian said it more firmly this time. It still completely felt weird to say, and even more so to see you smile and say it back.

‘I love you too.’

He dipped his head down, capturing your mouth in a soft kiss. The feeling of your lips against his was familiar and foreign all at once; it was something he’d gone over in his head a thousand times, but it was nothing like either of you had imagined. It was better. Sweeter, in the kind of way that gave you butterflies in your tummy and made you feel giddy. It was worlds away from the usual dread and bloodshed that came with being in the Rebellion.

But that was quintessentially Cassian. He was everything that the war wasn’t: sweet and constant and warm. Somebody as beautiful and as caring as him both did and didn’t belong in the Rebellion. Did, because he was a good man who wanted to fight for the right thing. Didn’t, because he constantly risked his life for the greater good and you couldn’t quite stomach that idea.

‘I’ll always come back for you.’ He lightly brushed his hand against your cheek. ‘Never doubt me.’

‘I won’t.’ You promised. ‘Not ever.’

tags: @megmeg-chan @karasong @bb8sworld @marvelinsanity @poestardust @etherealsanakin @bo-kryze @punkbach @phoenixhalliwell

#cassian andor x reader #cassian andor imagine #cassian x reader #cassian imagine #cassian andor fanfiction #cassian andor fanfic #star wars x reader #star wars imagines #star wars fluff #cassian andor fluff #rogue one imagines #star wars angst

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astrella-writes · 3 years

Text

prompt | @ssoftlydreaming asked: nfjsja ok from sweet home can you do lee eun-hyeok and basically he has to decide if he should risk the danger of everyone in the apartment complex or save reader who is outside and struggling to survive.

warnings | female pronouns, angst, spoilers for episode one of the netflix adaptation of sweet home, if you haven’t watched episode one complete then this won’t make much sense, panic attacks, the general horror of sweet home, eun-hyuk being a logical pain in the ass, somewhat of an open-ending.

word count | 1.7K

author’s note | i hope this satisfies your masochistic desires! i’m honestly so happy to have angst as my first request, and that isn’t sarcasm at all.

The sound of his descending footsteps echoing throughout the concrete stairwell became background noise to Eun-Hyuk as he stared at the unanswered messages he had sent you well over an hour ago. This was strange behavior coming from you, considering you usually responded back within minutes. Not wanting to jump to conclusions, he tried to think of a logical explanation to calm his increasing worries. Perhaps your phone died on your walk home, or you had to work over-time without a chance to inform him.

He was certain some minor inconvenience caused your abrupt absence, although he couldn’t shake off the unnerving feeling settling like a burden of tense muscles upon his shoulders. Realizing there wasn’t much more he could do, especially since all the calls he gave you went straight to voice mail, he decided to wait patiently for a reply from you and try to keep his thoughts clear during the meantime.

Eun-Hyuk stuffed his phone into his pocket as he finally reached the half-open double doors that led out onto the first floor, his ears immediately picking up on the commotion before he looked over at the front entrance that was blocked by the shutters. A group of people stood dispersed nearby, talking amongst themselves and watching one resident in particular as he tried tugging on the metal bracing that barely budged. The man sighed, dropping his arm and admitting defeat as he walked away from the shutters, mumbling to himself.

‘First the elevators aren’t working, and now this?’ he thought to himself, unimpressed with the current situation, especially since he had work that night. He wasn’t the only one annoyed by the circumstances as the surrounding people openly expressed their vexation. Although, unlike most of them, he remained calm and simply observed the scene with his hands in his pockets. Multiple residents spoke loud enough for him to catch on to the fact that the security guard was missing, which made little sense considering this was an issue for him to resolve.

“Excuse me?” a feminine voice sounded from behind him, causing him to turn around and look at the woman. “Do you have any service on your cell?” Despite having just been on his phone, Eun-Hyuk was so preoccupied with his thoughts regarding your whereabouts that he didn’t notice the minor detail of whether he had any service.

Pulling out his phone and unlocking it, he immediately dialed your number, taking the possibility to hopefully connect with you and find out where you were. When his ear met with a high-pitched ringing, Eun-Hyuk lowered the phone, lost in thought for a second before looking at the woman.

“I guess not,” he said, watching as her face dropped in disappointment and she turned to walk away, but he stopped her with a question. “What’s going on here?”

The woman hesitated, wondering if anything was even worth sharing considering she would give him more questions than answers. She went on to explain how every main exit had been closed up, locking everyone inside. Although she speculated someone was behind this, she had no idea who it was and for what purpose it was done.

The explanation caused Eun-Hyuk to swallow thickly before turning his gaze towards the concealed entrance. He stared for a moment, silently wishing for your safety.

―――

A shrill ringing penetrated your ear, causing you to jerk your head away from your phone and hang up on your attempt at calling Eun-Hyuk. With a frustrated cry, you threw your cellphone upon the ground, hearing the shattering of the screen as it smacked face-first against the concrete.

On the verge of tears, you made yourself as small as possible in the alleyway's corner, pulling your knees up to your chest as you rested your forehead on top of them. Your breathing grew increasingly more labored as the sensation of dread and pure hopelessness consumed your mind.

Eun-Hyuk’s words repeated in your head during times like this, when you were at risk of having a panic attack. Stay still. Take slow breaths. Think of something nice.

You squeezed your eyes shut, allowing the gathering tears to flow freely down your cheeks as they gathered at the tip of your chin. Forcing yourself to take in deep breaths, your trembling body gradually stilled. Eventually, your thoughts morphed as you focused on your breathing, rather than the surrounding chaos.

Think of something nice.

Eun-Hyuk’s face filled your mind, the sight prompting a ghost of a smile. You recalled your first meeting which occurred almost a year ago, when you had just moved into Green Roof Apartments. Someone had suddenly removed the towering stack of boxes you were carrying from your hold, and just as you were about to thank the person for helping, you realized you recognized him.

It turns out that you both used to attend the same high school, although you weren’t in the same class, your friend group interacted with his friend group quite a lot. Seeing his face brought back all those times at lunch when you would sneakily try to steal glances at him without your friends noticing. They noticed, of course, and teased you relentlessly about your crush but they were nonetheless supportive. They even proposed setting you two up on a date, because a ‘little birdie’ told them he had been crushing on you too.

Unfortunately, you were in such denial that someone as handsome as him had feelings for you, and rejected the offer. He was simply unobtainable, the extent of your relationship never surpassing polite greetings and friendly smiles until you both graduated and never saw each other again. Or at least, that’s what you assumed would happen.

It seemed fate gave you two another chance, unsatisfied with your prior silent pining and not acting upon anything. Considering you both matured immensely, talking came easy, and it wasn’t long before a much deeper connection began blossoming between the both of you.

His sister reacted indifferently when she walked out into the hallway one day, only to witness the both of you moving suspiciously away from each other, as if trying to conceal something. She caught on immediately, especially since her brother had been mentioning you quite often.

“Seriously? He’s the best you can do?” She scoffed, eyeing her brother disapprovingly before pushing between the both of you and walking off. You stared at her retreating figure in shock, oblivious to the smile on Eun-Yoo’s face as she disappeared down the stairs.

Once his sister found out, Eun-Hyuk became increasingly more open in terms of your relationship. And eventually, after a long week of his sister degrading him for not moving to the next step, he asked you to be his girlfriend. It wasn’t the most romantic of set-up’s; he had knocked on your door and asked you so casually that you wondered if he was joking.

When he assured you he wasn’t, you almost knocked him off his feet from the abrupt hug you gave him, accepting his simple proposal.

The memory faded, and the realization hit you like a truck. Eun-Hyuk was waiting for you, and you couldn’t give up on him. Taking a deep breath, you got up from the ground, trying not to focus on the screams and sounds of destruction in the distance as you lightly jogged towards the entrance of the alleyway. You peered behind the wall and looked both ways. The coast was clear; it was now or never.

―――

You raced around the corner, narrowly dodging the attention of a nearby monster as its head popped up from one of the many dumpsters lining the brick wall of Green Roof Apartments, the location you had been trying to reach from when this all started.

The sound of metal creaking, which you quickly recognized to be the shutters descending, urged your aching legs to run faster as the darkness before you faded the closer you got to the entrance. That’s when you noticed Eun-Hyuk struggling to keep the shutters open as a distraught woman crawled towards him. He reached out a hand towards her, just as he looked up and made eye contact with you. His eyes widened at the sight, although bloodied and bruised, you were very much alive. You smiled at him, relieved, feeling safe already.

That was until you heard a rustling coming from your right, along with animalistic groans, as if something was just stirring back to life after being immobilized and ready to lash out again. A flurry of panicked voices came from the lobby of the apartment, everyone watching in horror as the hunched-over silhouette of the monster with a snake-like tongue began recovering to its full height.

Luckily for you, the monster disregarded your presence as it ambled towards the entrance. You stood frozen in fear as the shadow of its body passed over you, the sound of its languid steps lulling you into a trance as your body trembled lightly.

It was perceptible that trying to run past it would end in your demise, leaving you stuck on what to do. Your pleading eyes drifted towards Eun-Hyuk, hoping he would come up with a plan to distract the monster long enough so you could make a break for the gap underneath the shutters he had been holding open - a perfect enough size for you to slide under.

He stared you dead in the eyes as he dropped the shutters; the metal clanging loudly against the tiled floor. You blanched, staring back at him in disbelief. A semblance of guilt took over his features, and you shook your head in denial.

Your eyes stung with tears, and you wondered whether to cry and beg for him to help you or keep the remaining bit of dignity you had left. The monster suddenly shot its tongue within the gaps of the barred metal and Eun-Hyuk disappeared from sight as he dodged; the trance you were in instantly dissipating as you came to terms with the situation.

He left you to fend for yourself, surrounded by a horde of monsters. You weren’t sure whether to give up or keep going, considering nothing seemed worth fighting for at the moment.

Did he regret it? Of course. Would he do it again? Without question. Eun-Hyuk would sacrifice anyone to keep his sister safe, even you, and even himself.

#sweet home #sweet home x reader #eun-hyuk x reader #eun-hyeok x reader #sweet home imagines #sweet home netflix #sweet home x reader netflix #angst #sweet home angst

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danielxricciardo · 3 years

Note

Can you do one with Max, with 46 and 55 from angst list?

Summary: You are suffering from depression and Max tries to be by your side

Warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of suicide, depression

Word count: 3.6k+

46. “I’ll leave, and the world will move on. I just wish I could see it. See how much better everything is when I’m gone.”

55. “You’re good at finding things. Find me a reason to stay.”

Depression feels like a lot of things.

It feels like sadness, which is what everyone will tell you. It's a pretty common thread.

"I'm worthless."

"Everyone thinks I'm a horrible burden."

So on and so forth.

Everyone in the world is happy but you, and in the end, you are a worthless piece of shit that doesn't belong in this otherwise glorious and happy place. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and you are lying there on your bed in the same unlaundered pair of pajamas, wondering why you are even allowed to keep living any longer. Some meteor strikes or lightning bolts should be reserved for people like you because you are taking up space and oxygen and food and other resources that real, happy, productive people need.

It feels like emptiness. You have all these possibilities and none of them seem interesting. You could do some art, or play some music, but that just doesn't feel right. There's no joy in it. You could have sex with your significant other, but you can't muster up the desire. You could play video games, or read a book. But what's the point? There's no real benefit to all of it but passing the time. You could get up and make lunch. But no, you're not that hungry, and if you close your eyes, time will pass a little faster. You can lie there. That works. It doesn't require active effort to do something fruitless. Everything is as empty and fruitless as lying and staring out your window at the clouds and the shifting shadows of tree branches, and so why do anything else?

It feels like fatigue. Standing up out of your bed requires the same amount of bodily effort as climbing several flights of stairs. Managing to get dressed and walk outside is like running a race. Heaven helps you if you try to go to the store or a friend's house -- that may as well be on the other side of the continent. Every step is heavy. Every muscle motion requires ten times the work it used to. Exercise becomes difficult, and control over your body expires quickly. You become clumsier, so heavy lifting is right out. You daze out randomly, daydreaming, even dozing, so biking or running is hard. You feel most at home when you are entirely relaxed, so you lie down...and don't get up again until something like your bladder compels you.

It feels like a loss of control. You have no idea why your brain and body are doing this. You don't want to feel sad. Nobody wants to feel shitty and tired and empty all the time. People will look at you and say, "It's like you don't want to get better." Those people are idiots. You truly, deeply, from the bottom of your soul, have no idea why this has happened or what to do. It's not logical. It makes no sense. You woke up like this, or it crept in overtime or something like that. It's like a fog, a force of nature that sweeps in, occludes everything, and there's not one thing you can do about it from where you stand. Trying feels like taking a paper fan outside and trying to blow away the morning mist. Someone has tied puppet strings to your brain and is playing this hideous dance with it, and you don't have the scissors to cut them away. The dance doesn't make sense; it's arbitrary and rhythmless. If you had any sort of reasoning behind it, you could take control. But you don't.

It feels like desperation. You can't find a way out. You lie there at night, keening into your pillow like a wounded animal, making all sorts of noises that no human being should be able to make. You claw and scratch at the sheets, or at yourself, as the pain wrings itself out through bodily expression. The tears won't stop. You don't know why. All you know is that it hurts, it really and truly hurts, and you think if it goes on any longer, you're going to die. Right there. Bleed out on the floor. So you grab up your phone, and you call someone at 4 AM, and you beg them to please just make it stop. You bury yourself in books and movies because at least then you can imagine something else than yourself. You read nonstop. You have to have your fix. It's like an addiction, no, more like a life support machine. Otherworlds, fantasies of happiness, and real experiences that aren't your horrible existence become the iron lung keeping air flowing in and out. You are alive because you can stop thinking for a while. Your friends come over to comfort you. Their stories keep you sane and well, like dialysis for all the toxins in you. Your mind has failed at being independent, and now it relies on a thousand little machines to keep itself running. You rely on one machine until another comes to save you. You read books until your friends come by. You stretch out your time with friends until you have to bury yourself in a movie again just to keep the thought of real-life away.

It feels like untamed anger. Your friends can't keep this up forever. You fall further and further, and you eventually start dropping commitments. You have become That Person, the flake that everyone knows will back out. People start getting annoyed at you, annoyed at how they have to spend so much time just keeping you afloat, annoyed at how often you're causing them trouble by constantly disappearing and backing out of appointments, and so on. Your workplace gets annoyed at your lack of productivity. And then you can't take it anymore, and you want to scream at them, grab them by the throat and shake them because IT'S NOT YOUR FAULT! You start having twisted fantasies, the ones where you walk up to that person who keeps telling you he can't do this anymore, you're just too unreliable, putting a gun to your head and pulling the trigger. Just to make him know, for once, that FUCK HIM, your problems are REAL, DAMMIT, REAL, and he better FUCKING RESPECT that. And when you're gone, he'll fall to his knees and cry, and he'll say, he wishes he had understood, that he didn't mean to be so unkind, and the scar on his heart from his own failure will remain fresh and knotted for eternity. And then you shake yourself out of the daydream, and you wonder why you have turned into such a horrible person, someone who even considers ending their own life just to spite another human being. Then it creeps back in, the knowledge that the world is getting fed up with you...and the cycle begins again. You start thriving off these daydreams, because at the very least if you can't be happy, you can throw caution to the wind and get the petty, oddly satisfying revenge buried under all those layers of morality that are becoming worn and flaking away. It's just a fantasy, right? And it helps pass the time...

It feels like forever. You have forgotten what it's like to truly be joyful. You can imagine it, but it's not really you in those thoughts. This is who you are. This is your life. This is you.

It feels like you have only one thing truly under your power: your existence. You cannot choose what life throws at you. Your brain and body have betrayed you. Your friends have worn away, and you've fled from your job and any commitments you have.

It feels empowering. You can jump whenever you want.

But he accepted you the way you are. He never reproached you for negatively influencing his mentality or life, even though you knew he felt it too. He always listened to you, he was with you even at 2 in the morning when you were crying on the bathroom floor with your knees to your chest, and you knew it wasn't right. It wasn't right for him to go through, basically, what you were going through. But no matter how much you told him you could do it without his help, Max was coming back more insistently than ever.

He came up with the idea to start therapy. "You have to find out why you feel this way. Go at least once, see how it is, if you don't like it or feel that it doesn't help you, you will give up, okay?" That was a year and a half ago.

The psychologist gave you a diagnosis from the first session: Major Depressive Disorder. Sure you knew what the three words meant, but you didn't know what it meant to have a label on your condition.

"A major depressive disorder is characterized by one or more of these depressive episodes. the diagnosis of major depressive disorder requires depressed mood or anhedonia which is the loss of interest in pleasure and five or more signs or symptoms for the SIGECAPS mnemonic for a 2-week period. (SIGECAPS) Sleep Disturbance, loss of Interest, feeling Guilty, feeling fatigued and low in Energy, having decreased Concentration, decreased or increased Appetite and been agitated and slow and having Suicidal ideation."

It sounds incredible to you. Suicidal thoughts? Not everyone has a thought, somewhere, behind their mind 'What if I disappeared?'

You were prescribed Prozac and Zoloft and it helped. You weren't always sad anymore, you could go to the races with Max and support him as a normal girlfriend does. You apologized to my friends who tried to help me and whose lives you made impossible and you managed to get back to work, from home anyway. Sure, you still had moments when you felt like you weren't 100% yourself but not like before. You did therapy twice a week and the psychologist was happy with your evolution.

But being the stupid ass that you are, you stopped taking the medication. You took the last pill on Friday. Because you were fine. You felt ok, everyone around you told you you were better, you were doing amazing, so you were cured, right? Or so you thought. Saturday was normal. Sunday was not. Your mood and energy were very low. You woke up at like 2 in the afternoon. That is not unusual for you. You’re used to it. You were sad. You were exhausted. You knew that feeling like this was “no excuse” so you tried to force yourself to do it anyway. Typical of your life. You feel like you had already taken so much off work because of the triple-header, you were for three weeks attached to the hips with Max.

The only thing you thought of was dying. And that terrified you. And Max senses something was wrong. But he didn't want to tell something and ending up being wrong and you being upset by his misinterpretation. But, yes, he sensed that you were becoming your old self.

"Hey, babe," he snapped you out of your daydreaming. A tragic one, where you were finally at peace and Max was crying for you. You were on the verge of crying yourself at the mere image of Max in your head. But you pushed it far from your mind, somewhere in a dark corner for you to find it at an appropriate time to fantasize about your dying. "How about we go to a picnic? It's sunny outside."

Yes, the wheater was amazing. It was finally summer and you could go outside and spend some time with Max. But your brain literally is tricking you into thinking you don't deserve to enjoy the sunny day. Why? You don't have an answer.

"I'm not really in the mood, Max. Sorry."

You are not in the mood. That was his affirmation. You are not ok.

"You feeling good?"

"Yeah. Just tired I guess."

"But you just woke up."

You shrugged. He was right. You just woke up, so why do you feel like you were carrying a ton of bricks on your shoulders? You couldn't walk. You almost felt like 18 months ago. And that is when it hit you. And Max, at the same time.

"Still taking your meds, I hope."

Silence. Your mind was like overcrowded and you couldn’t take it anymore. You grabbed your head and pulled your hair because you wanted it to stop. You were thinking that you didn’t know what to think. You didn’t know how to think. You didn’t know how you felt. You were like anxious-depressed-angry-miserable-irritable all in one. Your head was spinning with thoughts. Thoughts were talking over thoughts. So fast that you couldn’t even make out one complete sentence. It was just too much for you to handle. You just wanted someone to kill you.

Max came to you and he hugged you so hard you thought he could crush your bones right there and then. You calmed down eventually. But now you were embarrassed. Because Max saw you, again, at your lowest. Because you promised you'll get better, and for a while, you were better, but now you are fucked and back into square one. All those money on therapy and your pills, for what? For you to stop taking them because you thought you were feeling better? Well, you definitely were not ok, nor you'll be. So, yeah, being fucked sounded good.

Max brought you the medicine and a glass of water. Taking the pills again? For what? The pills only fuel the feeling that everything is fine and that you are a normal person. Nothing was good and you were not a normal person.

But you took the pills. And you looked Max in the eyes and you wanted to die. He seemed crushed. He was sad, devastated, maybe angry but definitely disappointed. In you. Because maybe you don't realize this, but while you were doing good, he was doing great. He knew you could be on your own so he stopped worrying that much, and that could also be seen in his driving. He was winning more races, he was at his best and now he was at his lowest. Because you were at your lowest; co-dependency and shit.

"I'm sorry, baby. I thought I was doing well enough to stop taking the meds," you say in a broken voice but the tears are yet to appear. He stroked your hair and kissed you on your forehead.

"You should have told me. You don't have to go thru this alone. I am here."

"Yeah, you are here. But you don't have to be!" you snapped. Irritability, one thing your depression came with. "I am just a burden for you. And no, this does not come from the fact I stopped taking my pills. You took care of me like I was a child, and, fuck it, you don't deserve this."

"Stop talking like this, alright? If I would suffer from depression you would have done the same thing. You would have taken care of me. Or am I wrong?"

"You are not wrong. To be honest, I don't think I would be here if it wasn't for you, but I don't want you to be. It's obvious that I would never get better. This is me. I am fucked in the head, half wishing I was dead and I am just bringing you down."

"Don't tell me this is a fucking break up, Y/N." he narrows his brows and looks at your features to make sure you were being serious.

“I’ll leave, and the world will move on. I just wish I could see it. See how much better everything is when I’m gone.”

"What the fuck are you talking about? Is this a break-up or a suicidal vocal note?"

You broke down. Crying can be cathartic and healthy, but if it goes on too long it can lock your body in a feeling of despair. Even if your mind works through the problem that caused the crying, because your body is still feeling the physical effects it will cause your mind to revert to the negative state. It's not sadness. It's dread and paralysis. You had a certain feeling of emptiness and purposelessness.

“You’re good at finding things. Find me a reason to stay,” you say between sobs.

"You want me to find you a reason to stay alive or to stay in this relationship? To be frank, I can name a thousand reasons, but it all depends on you."

Max hugs you from behind and you lay your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat that was stronger than ever. You allowed yourself to inhale Max's scent, a soothing scent you could get drunk on.

"I want to believe you love me. I mean, I love you and I consider you the love of my life, you know? We are so young and I know it doesn't feel like it, but I promise you, I'm gonna marry you someday, even if right now you don't think you're gonna make it till tomorrow. So, yeah, this is reason number one," he said and pressed a kiss to your cheek. "This is not the worst you have been through in life. Remember where you were 18 months ago; you had no idea what was wrong with you. Now you know and you know you can be better. I know you get sick of those pills, but maybe, in the future, you won't need them. Isn't that exciting? This was reason number two," he said and pressed another kiss to your cheek. He was going to do that every time he would give you a reason. "Have you been to all the beautiful places around the world? Sure, you came to a few Grand Prix, but you never saw Great Ocean Road in Australia, you know Daniel promised he would take us there someday. You never saw Pamukkale in Turkey or Japan in Cherry Blossom season or the Blue Lagoon in Iceland. There are many places you need to visit, baby. So, yeah, this was reason number three. I don't know if you want me to continue but I can give you one more reason. Reason number four. Do it for you, baby. You deserve to live and be happy. I know you can be happy and I promise you I will do my best to help you. You just have to take it one step at a time. You just have to let me in. Let me help you, baby."

You turn around, facing him now. You loved him, with all of your heart. You love him for who he is. You love him because he literally came into your life as your lifeline. You love him because he helped you crawl up the deep bottomless abyss of depression. You love him because he had the patience and the audacity to bear with your depression, anxiety, and panic attacks, your phobias, your mood swings, your temperamental and short-tempered nature, your overthinking, your being overprotectiveness, and possessiveness. You love him because never once he thought of giving up on you in your hard times. You love him because he stands by you like a rock of unwavering support and he’s someone you can fall back on. You love him because he listens to you talking non-stop about your past, your pains, your fears, and your losses without complaining even once. You love him because he rediscovered you and helped you find yourself again when you were lost in darkness. You love him because he filled you with confidence and hope and strength and belief and determination. You love him because he believes you are the best when you set your mind on something and no one can stop you from achieving your goals. You love him because he is protective, caring, understanding, loving, and easy to be with while never being too suffocating or taking up your space. You love him because sooner or later he does everything you ask of him and does with his whole attention. You love him because whatever endeavor he engages in, he likes to give his 100% and hates doing half-hearted things. You love him because he can decode the nuances in your voice and judge your mood just perfectly. You love him because he read you like an open book and he can hear your silence. You love him because he never doubts your loyalty, your intentions, your hard work, and your million issues. You love him because no matter how busy he might get he never forgets that you are waiting for his message or his call. You love him because he keeps you in his priorities. You love him because he gave you a passion you never knew you had. You love him because he very strongly believes that you deserve the best of everything. You love him because he is empathic, kind, magnanimous, thoughtful, and down to Earth. You love him because he has eyes for no one but you. You love him because he wants to see you healthy, wealthy, prosperous, famous and he wants you to hold back at nothing, for no one, he wants you to be a Go-Getter. And most importantly you love him because no one ever loved you like he did.

"I will let you in," you say and you kiss him hard. "I'm sorry for the scene I caused."

"Don't be. It happens."

#max verstappen imagine #max verstappen oneshot #max verstappen #f1 fanfiction #f1 oneshot #f1 one shot #f1 2021 #f1 #f1 fandom #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula one oneshot #formula one imagine #formula 1 oneshot #formula one #formula 1 #red bull racing

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yourtamaki · 3 years

Text

the wanderer’s lodestone

dabi x f!reader

word count: 3.6k

warnings: violence, detail of injury, murder, morally grey reader, dry humping, mutual masturbation, oral (m receiving), angst ending

if there was one thing dabi has learned over the years, it was that people always fell in one of two categories. there were those who would meet his gaze and those who avoided it. he’s not sure which is worse. the brave ones and their wide eyes, always staring at his marred skin with such sick fascination it made his palms itch in the worst way. or the spineless bastards whose eyes stayed glued to the ground when he walked past only to gawk at him like a sideshow freak when they thought he wasn’t looking.

two sides of the same judgemental coin, all part of the same corrupt society that preaches love until someone doesn’t fit their mold. it was getting harder to differentiate between them and at some point he stopped trying all together. what did it matter if he couldn’t remember how it felt to be regarded like a human being? he didn’t need to be human to carry out his vengeance, he only needed to be alive.

that changed when he met you.

it wasn’t his cleanest break-in but he couldn’t care less, too busy focused on not passing out from blood loss. it was shit luck that the alley he had chosen to rest in was part of a new hero’s patrol route. the kid was clearly scared out of his mind when he realized dabi wasn’t just another thug on the streets, his pale face illuminated in the night by blue flame. it was a shame, for a rookie the kid had talent with his dagger quirk, being able to throw and call them back at will, even change their trajectory midair. he could’ve made it far in the ranks.

dabi wondered if they’d bury him with his daggers, scorched bones and all.

it wasn’t his problem anymore. all he cared about was finding something clean to wrap the nasty cut on his abdomen. there was no special reason he chose your bedroom window to climb through. it was the first apartment with a fire escape he stumbled upon just far enough away from the ashes of the pro hero that he wouldn’t have to worry about being followed. your dim window was the first he reached and it didn’t take much effort to jam a knife between the glass and the lock to force it open. he thought the place might be empty for the night when he stepped inside and heard no signs of life. he got to work tearing the bedsheets in long strips and was nearly done when you walked in.

there were people who met his gaze and there were people who avoided it. you were neither.

you saw him.

even in near darkness, your eyes found his and didn’t flinch at the monster that stared back. the room stayed silent as you seized each other up save the drops of blood that slipped past where he held his wound shut and splattered on the floor.

“could you not rip my sheets up?”

your voice was enough to startle him from his initial shock, twirling the knife once before going back to cutting up the fabric. “i need them more than you do. i’ll be gone in a minute, scream and i’ll kill you.”

you scoffed but didn't reply, walking across the room and flipping the light on in a bathroom he hadn’t seen earlier. a wave of irritation washed over him as he watched you rummage through drawers. who would turn their back to someone who broke into their home? did you have no self preservation?

you walked back, tossing several things onto the bed before making your way back deeper into the apartment. “close the window on your way out.”

and with that you’re gone. a part of him wanted to chase you, to tie up the loose end but the memory of your eyes kept him frozen in place. the thought of those same eyes looking at him with fear made his gut twist and he didn’t understand why. he grabbed whatever you tossed at him, the few strips he’d managed to make and left the way he came. it’s not until he’s found an empty alley to rest in did he inspect the items. ace bandages, an entire bottle of hydrogen peroxide, fish wire and a sewing needle.

your kindness tasted like pity and acid. he couldn’t convince himself to spit it out even as it burned a hole straight through his tongue.

dabi hated you and he etched that hatred into his skin, stitch by painful stitch. hated you for reminding him that he had yet to purge the weakness from his soul. the same weakness that forced him to walk past your apartment over the next few weeks. it was stupid to stick around in the city for so long, especially after killing that hero. he told himself it was to make sure you’d upped your security since he’d tumbled into your home but it sounded the excuse rang hollow with no one to hear the lie.

it became such a mindless part of his routine it took him a moment to realize one night that your window had been shattered open. his throat tightened almost painfully, your eyes flashed in his mind and he was flying up the fire escape a moment later.

a lean figure was pulling open drawers when the sound of dabi stepping on broken glass made him whip around. it’s a pain, not being able to turn the man into fuel for his ever hungry flames but he didn’t think you’d appreciate him saving your house just to burn it down.

the man’s movements were clumsy and uncoordinated, taking desperate swings that left him wide open for dabi to sneak under his defences. he’d just managed to grapple the intruder into a chokehold when the bedroom door creaked open and both men’s attention snapped to you.

“you done yet?” you asked and dabi had to force himself to speak under the full weight of your gaze.

“were you here the whole time?” you nodded, acting far too casual for his liking. “why the fuck didn’t call the cops or something?”

“i figured you’d show up.” you cocked your head at the incredulous look he threw you. “what, you thought i didn’t notice you coming around all the time?”

he clicked his teeth in annoyance. “well, what do you want to do with him then, sweetheart?”

it was a test and it was clear you knew it, glancing down at the intruder that had started weakly clawing at his arm. dabi would kill the man regardless of what you said but your answer would speak volumes on where you stood in this society rotted by false gods.

“i don’t care what you do, just dump the body far from here.” you didn’t blink once as you sentenced the man to death, didn’t blink as dabi shifted his hold and the echo of a snapped neck rang out in the room. you held steady and a begrudging respect rose up in him.

he heaved the man over his shoulder, being mindful to keep the head hidden from your line of sight. you’d already passed his test, there was no need for you to see it any longer then he’d already made you. he just had to know if you were putting on a front or not. if you were, it would’ve been all the more likely for you to put in a tip about a certain villain that lurked around your neighbourhood.

but instead you had held his gaze, didn’t look at him any differently and dabi didn’t want to know why he felt so relieved for it.

he honoured your request, carrying the body through back alleys and shadows to the very edge of the city. his thoughts wandered, as they always seemed to where you’re considered, wondering how soon he could see you again while he watched the flames climb high into the night sky.

“a tarp? seriously?” he’d lasted two full nights before his feet led him back to your fire escape and the brand new thick tarp that covered the missing window. you were in bed this time, reading a book the title of which he couldn’t make out with the dim light from your bedside lamp, not even bothering to look his way as he made himself comfortable on the window sill.

“shitty landlord is taking his sweet time replacing the glass so yeah. tarp.”

“you should move. i hear there’s a lot of break-ins going on around here.” he didn’t like how much your huff of laughter to his poor attempt at humour felt like a reward.

“not all of us can afford to live in the hero sectors, you know?”

the venom in your voice when you mentioned the hero sector caught him off guard. they’re one of the more subtle forms of corruption present in all cities with a hero presence. living in the hero sectors ensures one’s total safety from any threat. from robberies to natural disasters, a hero’s priority is focused on the rich who can afford the protection. no hero will ever admit to it, though. on paper, the sectors don’t exist. and yet the heroes flock to the same handful of neighbourhoods the moment a threat occurs. another underhand tactic to keep the poor in their place and the rich comfortable.

you’ve become that much more interesting in his eyes.

“so, you here to bleed all over my sheets again or what?”

dabi scoffed, “no, but i was hoping you could take these stitches out and we’ll call it even for saving your ass.” he could rip them out himself but where was the fun in that?

“yeah right. who saved who first?” despite your grumbling you waved dabi over, gesturing for him to sit on the bed while you went off to grab supplies from the bathroom.

he expected you to pull up a chair once you returned but instead you placed a hand on his chest and pushed him onto his back. it took all his concentration not to flinch when you straddled him, your hand trailing under his shirt, fingertips grazing his burnt flesh as you pulled his shirt up, bundling the material and forcing it into his mouth.

“you might wanna bite down on that, i’m all out of painkillers.”

there was a gentleness in how you cut the stitches from his body, how you took care to dab an alcohol soaked cotton pad over each one. it made his chest go tight, unable to recall ever being this close to someone and not walking away with new scars.

dabi found himself lulled into a trance by the rhythm of your hands, a trance that shattered as your fingertips strayed from the path of the cut, following the rows upon rows of staples that held him together instead. he watched your face closely, waiting for the disgust and horror to swim to the surface but your eyes kept the steadiness they always seemed to have.

“does it hurt?” you whispered.

he wanted to tell you that it didn’t hurt, not in the way you thought it did. that the nerves beneath his burnt and darkened flesh had died long ago and he couldn’t even feel the patterns you were now tracing on his stomach. it’s the unblemished skin that hurts, that always hurts. the parts of him that still cling to life.

the human brain processes pain differently than any other stimulation it feels. pain never dulls, never vanishes no matter how long it lasts. every waking moment, his own mind tortures him with fresh waves of pain and never lets him forget the countless staples that pierce his flesh and tear him open everytime he moves.

there’s so much he could tell you but the words refused to come out, burning up in his throat and leaving him choking on the ash.

you didn’t push when no answer came, prying his shirt from his clenched teeth and pulling it back into place. “you’re good to go, stranger.”

his hands that had been clenched by his sides twitched when you started to move away from him and judging by the tilt of your head, it didn’t escape your notice. you settled back over him and this time he couldn’t stop his hands from gripping onto your waist, trying to stop you from shifting.

“stop that.” he said through gritted teeth.

you gave another roll of your hips and smirked when his fingers dug deeper into your sides, “stop what?”

“you’re a fucking menace, you know that?”

“yeah. but you like it.”

he hated that you were right. but he’d be damned if he gave you the satisfaction of seeing him lose it from a little grinding. he used his hold on you to push you back slightly, spreading his legs even further until you were straddling his thigh instead. syrupy smugness filled his veins seeing you flustered for the first time since he’s met you.

“go on, don’t get shy on me now.” you were quick to shake off any reservations, growling at his teasing tone and grinding down on his thigh with a desperation that sent a thrill down his spine. “just like that, make yourself feel good.”

he couldn’t wrap his head around how right this felt. there should have been a moment of hesitation from either of you as you walked hand in hand over a line you’d have no way of crossing back over but instead you melted into each other, all his senses heightened and flooded with you, you, you.

he was so focused on memorizing every minute expression that crossed your face he didn’t realize you were asking for help until you moved his hands from your waist to your ass. he was more than happy to take over, setting a brutal pace that had you crying out, bunching his shirt up in your fists to try to stay grounded.

“c’mon baby, let go.”

you cum with a strangled cry and he can feel every pulse and clench of your cunt through the layers that separated you. your whole body shook in his arms as he helped you ride out your high before you collapsed on top of him, your head buried in the crook of his neck. he let your hands wander up and down his sides but grabbed hold of your wrists when they started to make their way between his legs.

he was about to tell you to forget about it, to not worry about the ache that sat heavy and hard in his jeans but the pout on your face when you looked up made him freeze.

“can i?” you asked, so close your warm breath fanned his face.

“you don’t- i didn’t…” he didn’t want you to think that this is all he’d wanted from you, that this wasn’t why he was compelled to return to you over and over. you seemed to understand his silent struggle, gracing him with a small smile.

“i know. i want to.” any hesitation vanished at the challenging look you gave him while you freed his cock from its restraints. you held your palm out to him and dabi spat into it, never breaking eye contact as you do the same and wrapped your hand around him, coating his length in the mixture of you. you took as much care touching him as you did cutting his stitches, careful and sure with each stroke, sweeping a thumb over his sensitive tip to gather the precum that leaked like a faucet.

as you worked his cock, he grabbed your leg that had fallen between his and pulled it up until your thighs were spread over his own. he couldn’t help the low groan that escaped him when he slid a hand into pants and past your panties and felt just how wet you were, sinking two fingers inside you just to hear you whine from the stretch.

it wasn’t the best angle but dabi made it work, crooking his fingers and letting his rough palm slap against your clit with each thrust. when your eyes started to roll back into your head, he used his free hand to grab the back of your neck, pressing your forehead to his and making sure your vision was filled with nothing but him.

“keep your eyes on me, don’t fucking close ‘em.” your mouth fell open as you nod, somehow keeping your pace steady even as he felt your walls fluttered around him. “show me that pretty face you make when you cum, sweetheart, i wanna see it again.”

“‘m cumming ‘m cumming oh fuck- ! ” you gasped as your orgasm hit you. he moaned right alongside you as you squeezed just underneath his blunt tip in a sudden death grip, the pain-laced pleasure was almost enough to push him over the edge.

you dropped to your knees quickly as you felt his cock twitch in your hand, popping the head into your mouth and rolling his heavy balls in your hand. the sudden sensation of your wet, hot tongue pressing at his slit had him shooting rope after rope of cum down your throat and his head spun when you swallowed every drop and showed him your empty mouth.

dabi pounced, tackling you to the ground, cradling your head before it could hit the floor and crashing his lips onto yours so hard he already knew he’d have to give a gruff apology when they ended up bruised. he chased the bitter taste of himself that lingered on your tongue and shivered when your tongue ran across his scarred bottom lip and you didn’t recoil at what you felt. frantic, rough kisses melted away into a lazy make out that banished all but one thought from his mind.

he could get used to this. he wanted to get used to this.

“hey,” your voice pulled him back down to earth, something soft glimmering behind your eyes and dabi didn’t want to look away until he figured out what it was. “i wanna show you something.”

you wiggled out from beneath him, making your way to the window and pushing the heavy tarp out of the way before stepping onto the fire escape.

following you up the winding stairs felt natural, like he was born to witness the small smile you threw over your shoulder to make sure he was keeping up.

the view at the top was underwhelming. too many buildings pressed too close together, all the exact same height as the one you two stood on stretching as far as the eye could see to create the most painfully ordinary view he’d ever seen. but it was quiet. the roar of the streets below couldn’t be heard at all and dabi hadn’t realized how loud it all was until deafening silence took its place. and it was cold. cold enough that he couldn’t tell if the ache in his lungs was from the freezing air or the hazy memory of white hair that floated through his mind.

it was the closest thing to peace he could remember feeling in years.

“you like it?” you were watching him closely, hopping from foot to foot and he didn’t know what possessed you to come out wearing only your flimsy sleepwear. you seemed proud of the little hidden treasure you found and something stirred in his chest thinking about how you chose to share it with him.

“‘s nice.” he said, reaching out to cover both your hands in his and using just enough of his ever burning flame to warm you both. he found himself waiting once more for the sudden twist of revulsion in your features, for you to jerk away from his touch but you sighed in contentment as heat seeped back into your fingertips. you brought his hands up to your face, making him cup your cold cheeks and closing your eyes to savour the warmth.

it was as you nuzzled into his palm that dabi realized exactly how dangerous you were to each other. undeserved kindness and crooked smiles and sharing secrets. he hadn’t earned any of these things and yet you handed them to him like it was the most natural thing in the world.

and he’ll take them. because that was the nature of the fire he had been cursed with. it takes and takes and takes and you’ll be left with nothing to show for it but the grey ash of your generous heart. and in return you’d lull him with the false belief that he is more than the hatred that flows through his veins, that there was still a person buried under the mountain of rage he carried inside him. he doesn’t think he could survive without it but you would make him believe that he could.

he’d destroy you. you’d ruin him.

this, whatever this was that was growing between you was doomed to end before it had even started. he should leave you on this rooftop, leave the whole damn city and forget whatever you had tried to awaken in him. but dabi could never resist the call of destruction, would always want to know exactly how hot and how bright things could burn. what did love look like when it’s been bathed in flames?

dabi pulled you closer, determined to find out.

dedicated to: @saintdabi

#dabi x reader #dabi smut #dabi imagine #bnha x reader #bnha smut #mha x reader #mha smut #bnha imagine #mha imagine

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