#I knew the devil would be hard to resist but nobody warned that it would be that hard | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ijustwanttobegolden · 2 years

Text

🍒 C⊶h⊶e⊶r⊶r⊶y⊶ ⊶l⊶i⊶p⊶s⊶t⊶i⊶c⊶k🍒

No warnings. Just Eddie Munson obsessed with you and your cherry lipstick.

This was an idea based on a fic I wrote which you can check out HERE! ❤️

As soon as Eddie saw you he wanted a taste.

A taste of your mind.

A taste of your attitude.

A taste of your lips.

You was the sweetest yet meanest person anyone had ever met. Sweet and humble yet still so bold and confident and at the best of times.. pretty feisty. How was it possible for anyone to be so sweet yet so sour all at the same time.. Everybody loved that about you, especially Eddie.. that metal head freak was obsessed.

You strutted down the hallways of Hawkins high, flashing sweet innocent smiles towards all the heads that turned.. students gawked, gushed and just simply stared in awe at you. Your energy was unmatched, it was like a magnet. Your sweet smiles turned into mischievous little blushes upon your cheeks, you looked like you had an evil little plan up your sleeve, like you knew something nobody else did, It drove people wild.

Along with your powerful energy, bold confidence and a smile to die for, you sported a bold cherry lipstick to seal the deal. Your cherry lipstick was always an essential of yours, your secret weapon. The lipstick was a daring dark cherry colour that complimented your eyes and skin completion really well, it had a really overpowering cherry scent which you fell in love with and of course the lipstick itself was titled cherry. It instantly became your favourite lipstick and now it’s all you ever use, becoming more of an addiction, you had to resist the urge to reapply it every 10 minutes.

Your signature lipstick made quite a statement that everyone began nicknaming you cherry, you didn’t mind so much when the name rolled from Eddie’s tongue.. ‘Sweetheart’ ‘Princess’ ‘Cherry’ any of those nicknames that came from Eddie’s mouth made your heart flutter and weak at the knees. He was the only ever person you would never ever purposely be mean to, Eddie Munson was your heavy metal angel in denim ripped jeans and chains.

When Eddie first saw you he instantly picked up on the sweet yet sassy attitude that radiated from you, the innocence you tried to perceive didn’t fool him and your gorgeous cherry red smile was infectious. He could of died right there, right then. Again, he wanted a taste.. a taste of you. All of you. He couldn’t help but stare at you from across the lunch table and that became his daily routine.

“You know it’s impolite to stare, Munson” you scolded, you tried to sound sarcastic but it somehow came out in a more seductive tone, your eyes never leaving your little pocket mirror as you applied your cherry lipstick.

You could feel Eddie’s dark heavy eyes burning into your skin as you continued to ‘innocently’ apply your lipstick. a little ‘birdie’ Dustin Henderson *cough cough* had nervously blurted out one day that Eddie was completely crushing on you hard and had dustin stalk you for ‘scientific purposes’ so now here you were playing on it, knowing the effect you had on him.

“I’ll stop staring if you just let me have a taste”

His lips curled into a devilish smile, his fingers imitating devil horns above his head, his eyes lighting up with mischief.

Cheeky son of a…

You giggled before throwing a fry at him and he threw his hands up in protest.

“Woah there princess! I don’t think that’s fair” he chucked deeply and he went to grab a fry from his own plate, it was obvious what he was about to do next.

You locked eyes, shaking your head while giving him a stern look.

“Don’t you dare!” You warned, hiding a smile.

Dustin and the rest of hellfire all turned heads back and forth between you and Eddie at the table, trying to follow all the commotion, a look of both fear and amusement plastered on their little faces.

“I don’t like it when mom and dad fight” dustin whispered stressfully under his breath.

Mike scoffed in amusement at his sarcastic comment, continuing to study you both.

It became tense for a moment.. like a stand off but Eddie shrugged, relaxing in his seat and shoving the fry in his mouth.

“I only wanted a taste” he spoke innocently, his sweet smile beaming at you.

You continued to hold his gaze, a warm smile tugging at your lips, the cheeky attitude made you weak.

“Maybe one day…”

You could of swore you heard everyone gasp, surprised looks on everyone’s faces and all you could do was just laugh, almost chaotically as you jumped up and exited the cafeteria, swiftly with no words. Eddie, watched you intently as you left, those dark eyes burning you once again, excitement pumping through his veins, a smug look of satisfaction on his handsome face.

~🍒~

All night that’s all Eddie could think about was you, like every other night really but this time it was different.. all he could picture was finally tasting your lips, replaying over and over how the kiss would play out, how your sweet lips would feel and taste, that cherry lipstick.. he would absolutely devour you.

Words kept replaying in his head, keeping him up all night.

“I only wanted a taste”

“Maybe one day”

~🍒~

It was early, you were tired, gathering out history books from your locker to prepare for your first class of the day, it was not what you wanted to be doing right now. In a world of your own, deprived of sleep, you didn’t even notice the pale hands clad with silver rings that was snaking themselves around your waist.

“Is today that day?” A deep yet silky voice broke out in your ear.

“Eddie!”

Safe to say you were wide awake now.

You jumped to face him, a hand on your thumping chest.

“You scared me!” You gasped.

Your eyes locked with his and you melted. Even though he just scared the living day lights out of you, you couldn’t be mad at him. Not with those eyes.

“I’m sorry Princess, you okay?” He asked, his voice laced with concern and he searched your eyes in hope that you were okay and nothing serious was going on.

You placed a hand upon his chest, the material of his hellfire T-shirt felt ever so soft and comforting. You couldn’t help but smile warmly and you sigh in relief.

“I’m fine, you just startled me a bit, I’m so tired Ed’ you huffed, pulling a little pouty face. You gave in to the magnetic pull, the warm fabric of his T-shirt, the rise and fall of his chest, you wanted to hug him so bad and so you did.

Without question or any hesitation, Eddie wrapped his tattooed arms around you tightly. He was warm and comforting and nothing could ever beat this. It was official, Eddie gave the best hugs. He held you for what seemed like forever, swaying you gently and nuzzling his face into your hair. You stood like this for a while not wanting to let go and Eddie wouldn’t dare break from you, he could hold you forever.

“Hey you don’t have to go to history this morning if you don’t want to.. Spose’ you could make up an excuse to sit in the nurses office or sneak home while you can so you can pull a sickie.. or we could just cut class, I don’t mind Princess” his voice was so soothing and reassuring though your eyes widened and you pulled away.

“Cut class? Are you insane! You have classes to pass if you want to be graduating in 86 Eddie Munson!”

“Hey I suggested other things too!” He held his hands up in defence while you tried to swat him playfully.

“I was just looking out for you that’s all.. I care about you..” his hands grab at your waist to pull you into him. “and I don’t want you forcing yourself into class if you’re not feeling it baby..”

Oh no, here he goes again with the nicknames.

You gulp, Eddie made you tremble for a minute then you suddenly snap, remembering the confident feisty person you are.

“Eddie Munson, get your hands off me and get your sweet, sexy butt into class”

You rolled your eyes but deep down wanted nothing more then to let him have a taste, let Eddie push you up against the lockers, pinning you to kiss you without even catching a breath but you killed the moment and now it was time for boring history class.

I say boring but you and Eddie used to have the best seats in the house.. the back of the class.

At the back of the class was where you both used to laugh until you cried, joke about and tease people and of course there was flirting.. lots of flirting! that was until the teacher split you up so you could both ‘concentrate’ and not ‘distract’ one another, then it became boring.

As soon as class began, you dipped your head down, your head lazily resting in the palms of your hands, elbows on the table. You began daydreaming then your mind wandered to what Eddie had said to you earlier when he scared you half to death.

‘is today that day?’

He was clearly referring to your cherry lipstick, was today going to be the day he got to have a taste.. you did say ‘maybe one day’ and you giggled to yourself in amusement, gaining some funny looks from your class mates. Then you caught eyes with the brown eyed metal head himself, innocently sat at the front. ‘Not today, not tomorrow Munson’ you thought, a beaming cherry red smile on your face that sent Eddie butterflies.

~🍒~

Teasing Eddie was your favourite thing to do and the more you two got closer, the more comfortable and the more easier it was for you to do so, especially now you knew what sent him wild. Your cherry lipstick.

You would sometimes leave it in his room, on his dresser amongst the endless amounts of cassette tapes, cigarette packets and spare guitar picks. He would find it, carry it around with him until he saw you next, every so often he would take off the lid to sniff that sweet cherry scent like if it was his own personal drug. It might as well be. He was addicted.

Sat in the passenger side in his van you would pull the sun shield down to use the little mirror to purposely apply a little more lipstick. Eddie barely able to focus on his driving, trying to watch you. Wetting his lips with anticipation and longing.

When greeting him and when saying your farewells you would plant a long lingering kiss to his cheek, staining his smooth flawless skin cherry red with the silhouette of your lips. Eddie would blush and get all flustered every time. Most of the time he’d refuse to wipe it off until he started to get a lot of ‘we were gonna ask if you’ve seen cherry but uhhh’ then the person points to their cheek to refer to the kiss mark.

You left him notes in class and in his locker with your cherry lipstick stain at the bottom and you would purposely talk about it loudly amongst the girls in class ‘oh it tastes amazing’ ‘it’s so smooth, makes your lips really sweet and kissable, definitely recommend’ and you would send Eddie a cheeky wink his way.

You had poor Eddie eating his heart out.

~🍒-

Eddie was going crazy, you had him all hot and bothered, all the teasing.. all the flirting.. and as much as he loved and respected you, he wanted nothing more then to just grab you and finally kiss you, finally taste that sweet cherry lips of yours. It’s all he ever thought about lately. The boys had begin to notice, there was a change in his behaviour at hellfire lately.

“Eddie.. helloooo, dungeon master... EDDIE!” Dustin practically screamed.

Eddie snapped out of his trance and came face to face with Dustin, his hands waving in his face frantically to gain Eddie’s attention.

“Sorry man I was just thinking about…”

“Her..” Dustin finishes.

Eddie scrunched his face up slightly confused but amused none the less. “Yeah how did you know..” he scoffed.

Dustin rolled his eyes. “Seriously? Jesus.. she’s got you under her spell Eddie, it’s so obvious”

“Her, the cherry lipstick.. what’s happening.. i don’t know what to do.. Dustin save me!” He dramatically gasps, acting out a slow death scene.

Dustin giggled at the lovesick puppy before him, holding him and rejoicing in the little ‘play’.

“We must purge the witch, burn her..”

Eddie eyes snapped sternly at Dustin and he jumps up.

“She is not a witch! She is a princess!” Eddie defended you, totally brainwashed and in love, he was only joking but to some extent.

Dustin Cackled lightly, gripping at Eddie’s arms tightly.

“Oh no, her powers are too strong, she’s got you good Eddie”

The boys continue to joke and mess around for a bit until Dustin finally finds it in him to ask Eddie a mature, personal question.

“What are you going to do Eddie?”

Eddie let’s out a deep sigh in defeat, his soft brown eyes glancing at Dustin then into the distance of the cluttered room where hellfire club takes place.

“Just wait until she maybe falls in love with me too.. then we can finally kiss and we can all live happily ever after.. maybe we will adopt you or something.. I don’t know..”

~🍒~

It had been a good couple of months since Eddie found himself completely in love with you and obsessing over your cherry lipstick.. one day was finally that day that you let him have a taste and boy was it amazing.

It was a typical Friday night and Friday night was you and Eddie’s traditional movie night.. all day at school you found yourself obsessing over his bandana hanging out of the left pocket of his skinny jeans, the same way he was obsessing over your lipstick. You knew about the bandana code and what the material meant and you wanted to confront him about it so it became another opportunity to tease and flirt with the metal head. Now here you were in his bedroom, trapped underneath Eddie as he towered over you on the bed, his dark curls cascading over you, along with the warmth of his breath, soft hands and cold rings caressing your skin as his lips lock with yours. His lips were so soft and plump as he sucked at your own lightly before the kiss became more hungry. Butterflies filled your stomach, your heart fluttered in your chest as your lips moved in sync, the kiss was perfect.. unlike any gross and inexperienced interaction you had before. Eddie began to explore your mouth, unable to control himself now, the obsession was real and he couldn’t get enough of you. Your sweet lips was everything he imagined and more and although savouring this moment, he couldn’t wait to kiss you over and over again in time, you were finally his. You and your sweet cherry lipstick.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #joseph quinn imagine #stranger things 4 #stranger things fic

185 notes · View notes

goofyhoffy · 3 years

Text

CHAPTER 2

Fanfiction : My First Kiss 'just a kiss'

Genre : best friend to enemies to lovers! Roommates au! Classmates au! Romcom.

Pairings : Taehyung × reader

Word limit : 2.06k

Warnings : fuckboi, bestie bad words, private talks, best friend sharing sex life, abusing, angst, misunderstanding, bullying, kissing, smut, fluff, explicit, student life, dirty talks, wet dreams, hitting on, making out, Dom,sub, yandere.

Summary : you shifted to a new city for your best friend Taehyung. He's your bestie since birth. You admitted to his school where you find life difficult. Taehyung being a fuckboi and you being is bestie he shares everything with you even his sex life and moves. But your character is far more different from him. You always looked for your comfort person. You dreamt of spending time with your future partners. Even you're in high school you haven't kissed anyone as you want to secure your first kiss for your special one. What happened when Taehyung seized the chance from you of your first romantic kiss!

Series: a drabble fanfiction of 3 sets.

Author note : this one is so emotional and romantic , so look forward to read it. I hope you'll love it. Finally, after reading give me your help full opinions. Love ya.

Chapter 1 ∆ CHAPTER 3

MASTERLIST

(๑♡⌓♡๑)(๑♡⌓♡๑)(๑♡⌓♡๑)(๑♡⌓♡๑)

You walks up to him and straight up slap him in his golden cheeks.

Slapping your bestie feels so bad, you felt the worst person in this planet. Your anger and frustration towards him still didn't left from your heart.

Taehyung getting slapped with your bare soft hands. He got thrilled. You slapped and left the venue. But eventually you feel someone grabbed your hand so hard. As you expected it's Tae. He was standing with his hand grabbing yours and the other hand holding his delicate cheeks you just slapped. You frowned.

"What was that?" Tae arrogantly asked.

"A slap to remember you that you're nothing but a stranger to me from now." You screamed.

"How dare you?" Tae squeezed your hands.

"How dare you to kiss me?" You eyed.

"Seriously, for a kiss you would slap your bestie" Tae sighed.

"It's My First Kiss" you emotionally acknowledged.

"It's just a kiss". Tae sighed.

"You were my best friend." Your voice broke.

"I still am. Still your best friend." Tae said.

"No, Tae. That's not how things happen. I told you hundreds of time that, I'm not like you. I can't makeout with anyone like you do. I have higher expectations and hope for my First Kiss. But you ruined it." You screamed.

"But you kissed me back." He too screamed.

"I don't, I don't know. It's just happened."

"See, you kissed me back but still reacting like a fucking slut. Don't be emotional virgin,____"

"Shut up, you fuckboy. See yourself. A fucking boy who can sleep with any and every girl across the door. I'm not like you, Taehyung. Maybe your dick fits for everyone but not for me. I never thought that you'll do something like this to me. I was your bestie." You bashed for him.

"What? Think before you speak,____" Tae sighed.

"Why will I? When you never even think about smashing your worst lips on mine? Huh." You said.

"I can't. You're the meanest. Actually your lips taste the worst. You don't even now how to kiss. Huh, how would you even know. You're a emotional Virgin. If I didn't kissed you, nobody in your entire life will do. You should thank me. Poor Virgin." Tae chuckled devilishly.

Hearing those cruel words from Tae. You just broken up. Those tears can't resist to drop themselves from your small pearl eyes. You never thought that your best friend can think that about you. Each and every word he speaks you remember word by word. The known loved face of Tae looked devilish to you now. He was not the same anymore. People change so do he. He turn to devil, who even can hurt their own people. You remember why you even here. It was all because of Tae who needed you. You were always there for your best friend. But he was never there. And he was the one who hurt you the most.

You can't let a word fall out of your mouth. Your neck was feeling pain out of caught your tears back. You don't want to face him anymore. Just want to go away from his gaze. His presence even stinks. He feels like a complete stranger to you. Out of anything you want was someone to tell you what is wrong and right. But your own friend was a traitor.

You still can't processed how things got runied between you. It was only second day of your staying with Tae, and you both already at the verge to broke up. The fight turns into a rival. You never have such a big issue or fight with him. Back in the old days, he always supported, loved and cared about you. But now at the school, he totally treat you like a new nerd girl who's hitting on him. So much things are going on your mind. The presence of your first kiss, the betrayal and the acting a stranger all from your own best friend.

"Huh! Don't fucking cry like a monster. Speak up, my toxic friend." Tae frowned.

His words makes your heart ache more and more. You can't stand to him. You wanted to slap him untill death. He was like a enemy to your eyes.

Without any response you shed off your tears, took a deep breath. Took your books from the library table and left the place.

Taehyung is deeply affected by your presence. He had never seen you like this. He somewhere immaturely annoyed by your response. The slap still leaves a mark on his cheeks. He deep down know that it's all his fault but his ego stops from accepting that. He only knew that you were overreacting and nothing. A kiss never can be compared with a slap. Best friend do this shitty things but the fight turns to Rival. Now, onwards he only know one thing she was his enemy and nothing.

You took your bagpacks from your classroom. And left the school. You stroll down the unknown street. The school, roads, place and your best friend seems stranger. You don't know where to go. For a second you thought of leaving your school from Seoul to go back to Daegu. But you promised Taehyung's mother that you would not leave him in the half way. You decide to stick to him but he wasn't your best friend anymore. But he was, no he still is. Might be you were little too much to response harshly. But he need to apologize to you first. And you were not gonna talk to him anymore.

Taehyung when came to classroom and can't find you anywhere, he got that you skipped the school. He was worried about you, after all you knew no one there. It was completely unknown place to you. But he know his way of finding where are you. He checked your snap location and at his surprise you were already home. He got relieved but still want to realise you that you were wrong to slap him.

You gone home as no other option was left. Did your homework and some self study. And missed your old Tae a bucket. Cried for hours over the same boy. But your strong will power helps you to organise yourself more. Took a fresh shower and done your hair and skin care.

Lying on the bed you were checking your social media. At your surprise you see something that broke your heart again. Tae posted a photo with his school friends and captioned it "far from the toxic friendship. Best day to get to know about real colour of people." You were so annoyed. You deep down know that he posted it for you. Tae intentionally posted to mock you. You were like does he thinks that you were toxic, he want to end friendship so he should tell you early. Such a asshole he was.

You know you have to call him, to tell him that he don't deserve you. That he was wrong to take away your first kiss. You called him and as expected he didn't received. You called him again, he received.

"You asshole." You screamed.

"What? What do you want now?" Tae arrogantly said.

"You fucking don't deserve a bestie like me. Your sarcasm is not a joke. You think you would mock me and I'll ignore it. Huh." You frowned.

"I see... So, how was my post. You like it. I love the caption so much. It's best to ignore toxic people like you." Tae devilishly grinned.

"Just fuck off with your poor fake gang Kim Taehyung. I even don't give a fuck. I hate you." You declined the call.

You screamed across the lungs that you can't with this boy.

Thinking all those think you drifted into sleep. You woke up to some weird noises coming from living room. And it's of screaming some girls. Felt weird that who was gonna scream like a monster at that time. That was barely late evening. As you were moving closer to living room the noises turns to moans. And as expected it was none other than your fake bestie Taehyung.

"What the heck? " You screamed.

"Oh my god. Who's she?" The girl screamed violently.

Taehyung turns to you and let out a deep sigh.

"_____, you're here again. Get off your ass. We're in a moment." Taehyung continued.

"Why in the living room? Don't you have two big bed rooms of your. Don't stain my yellow couches with your c-" you were cut off in the middle by the girl who covered herself with Tae's shirt.

"Shut up. Just go. Babe, we should go to your bed room."

"We can have sex anywhere and everywhere in this house. It's my fucking house,_____. Understood. Now, go." Taehyung rolled his eyes.

"I'm here too. As a roommate, I don't like this. Now go to your bedroom." You sighed.

"You are a bitch,_____. And you know that. You just ruined my mood." Tae frowned

"Babe we can start again, let's make your mood. So, where were we-" the girl said.

"You, please shut up. Take your clothes and fuck off." Taehyung sighed.

"But babe we ca-"

"Get out, slut." Taehyung directed the girl and she wear her clothes finally leaving you two alone.

A deep silence surround you both. None of you were starting a conversation. You were standing at the living room's door and he was sitting at the couch with his hand on the side chin. His dark brown eyes pierced yours. It was like he gonna kill you straight with his staring. You try to hide from his gaze but can not. He got up and grabbed your hands.

"What do you want?" His firm slow voice cut through your ears.

"Huh! I was ... Just asking to be at your bedroom." You stumble.

"Why you slapped me? Is kissing is an offense?"

"For me it is. You have totally changed."

He grabbed your hands and pinned you across the wall leaving enough space to breathe.

"Leave me. You're embrassed of me! Aren't you?" You sighed.

"Embrassed of you? Why?" Tae asked .

"You call me a little nerd in front of your friends. Why? You're treating me like you never knew me. I'm shocked to see such changes. I know I'm not cool like you nor I'm good looking like you. But still you would not talk and even humiliate your best friend in front your school friends. I'm your child hood friend, Taehyung. Mind it." You speak your heart out.

"Are you okay?" Taehyung speaks with his most delicate voice. He never believe that you have think to much just within a day. This was not what he was expecting.

"No, I'm not. I'm here for you but still you are ignoring me. Calling me slut, humiliating me and doing everything a best friend shouldn't do." Tears rolled down from your eyes. You can't anymore hold that back. Your eyes got puffy with tears. Your heart sink because of Tae.

Without any response Taehyung hugged you. Pressed you in his huge warm body. His hands patted your small head and back. But still you were crying.

"Stop crying. You misunderstood me. I'm sorry." Taehyung sighed.

"Please, let me explain you everything. I'm not ignoring you. It's just if I tell everyone that you're my bestie then they would see you as a person like me. I don't want you to be like me. I just wanted that you would make your own image as you wanted in your new school. I want you to be the best in the class and not like me who's always known for having girls around. I... I'm sorry." Taehyung explained.

You hugged him back and even cried more that his shirt got all drenched.

"No. Don't talk to me." You murmured.

"I'm apologizing. I really like you." Taehyung sighed.

A moment of silence between all those words make you stumble. You were still hugged by your best friend who just confronted his feelings to you.

62 notes · View notes

happylittledrabbles · 3 years

Text

choke me!

Rating: 18+

DO NOT READ IF UNDER 18, NO MINORS!!!

Fandom: Attack on Titan

Pairing: Reiner Braun x Eren Yeager

—

"It's been four years, Reiner."

Reiner never thought he'd see Eren again. And yet there he was, sitting in front of him. The two exchange some heated words until Eren has had enough and lunges at Reiner, pinning him against the wall by the throat.

Except, instead of a cry or a shout, Reiner's reaction is a lot more...unexpected.

"Did you just...moan?"

Choking kink fic, basically.

AO3

—

“It’s been four years, Reiner.”

The last person Reiner Braun expected to see tonight was Eren fucking Yeager. He knew he’d see Eren again eventually, he just figured it’d be when Eren was killing him or he was killing the damned menace.

He didn’t think the reunion would be so soon.

They had warned that if Eren were to attack Marley at any time, it’d be tonight. But he had had so much fun at the fair with the kids that he hadn’t fully registered that Eren Yeager still existed. All he could think about was how happy he was to finally be out of that hell that was called Paradis and away from seeing the devils he had grown to love die at the hands of his own people. And he thought he had finally escaped it, except now, the biggest threat among both of their worlds was sitting right in front of him.

“H-how…” No thoughts in his head. There was nothing. Eren’s expression was so calm, it was mocking in comparison to the panic running amok in the blond’s chest.

“I’ve done a lot of thinking in these four years, Reiner Braun.” His name sounded like pure acid on Eren’s tongue. Even if Eren kept his tone measured, Reiner’s name still came out like two spears that pierced him directly in the heart.

“A lot of thinking about how you betrayed us. About how you killed Marco. About how you were my role model. A big brother, really.”

Nausea swirled in his stomach like a hot pit of lava, and he couldn’t help but step back and bump into Falco, who was also petrified; the two of them stilled like perfect marble statues. Reiner had tried hard to forget he ever interacted with Eren, nevermind considered him a friend. There were many times when they were alone together that he almost professed that he was the Armored Titan because he felt so close to him. He felt pride whenever he watched Eren succeed, even though he should have been actively distancing himself from him in preparation for the big operation. When he was supposed to not feel anything at all after breaking through Wall Maria and effectively killing everybody Eren knew, he locked himself in a room and cried and screamed for hours until Bertholdt came in and had to pry his hands from the table and hug him until his other personality took over, and he felt nothing again.

Oh, how he wished his other personality took over now. Then he wouldn’t be able to feel the crippling fear resonating throughout his entire body. Then he wouldn’t be able to feel the pure dread cross his face as Eren grew his missing leg back and stood up, instinctively hugging his arms behind him to make sure Falco was protected.

“I won’t hurt him,” Eren said, his visible eye dropping to the young boy staring at him with stormy blue eyes, wide with terror. He snickered. “Maybe he’ll get caught in the fallout. But, I won’t hurt him now, if that’s what you’re wondering. In fact...” He gestured with his hand for Falco to leave, giving him a chilling smile that he meant to be reassuring. “Go ahead and leave, kiddo. This shouldn’t take long. I just need to talk to my old pal Reiner here.”

“Don’t talk to him,” Reiner whispered shakily, but eventually let Falco go and pushed him forward. “Go. Run as far away as you can. I’ll handle this.” If anything happened, he wanted Falco as far away from the site of disaster as possible.

He turned back to Eren and noticed he was several inches taller than when he last saw him. It made sense; he was a grown adult man now, but it was still a shock. He was so used to peering down at Eren and resting his arm on top of his head, ruffling his hair, tipping his chin back to make eye contact with him. But now, if he slouched even a bit, he’d be shorter.

“How cute. You used to be protective over me like that,” Eren said with a bitter laugh, beginning to step forward when Reiner stepped back and nearly tripped over a chair in response. “What, are you scared of me? Ha. I remember when—”

“Stop!” Reiner cried, slapping his hands over his ears and shaking his head emphatically. “I don’t want to hear it! I don’t—”

“Don’t want to hear what, Reiner? How we used to be friends? How I looked up to you? How we shared so many good times together?” He picked up the chair he was sitting in and smashed it to the ground, the wood strewn across the ground like puzzle pieces. Reiner flinched at the echo of the crackling wood, his hands balling into fists at his sides. Eren blew the splinters off his palms and clapped them together to get rid of the rest of the debris as he walked leisurely around the room with his freshly grown leg, circling Reiner like a hawk to its prey.

“Did you feel anything when you killed Marco? Did you feel anything when I told you my mom was eaten? Knowing it was all your goddamn fault?!” Eren roared, his eye a ball of flaming green fire.

“I—”

“No, you didn’t feel anything. Because if you felt anything, you wouldn’t have tried so hard to get close to me.” Eren unraveled the bandages around his face to reveal his other eye, somehow making the fury blazing in his stare even more potent. He let the bandages drop to the ground, the fabric twisting and turning gently as they fell into a pile. Reiner blinked slowly, so slowly it would have seemed he fell asleep for a moment. He stepped forward, about to reach out to Eren when his breath hitched in his throat, his lungs refusing to expand as he was yet again face-to-face with the boy—man—he had ruined the life of and had grown close to, all at the same time.

He took a deep breath once his lungs began to function again, closing his eyes to block out Eren’s intense glare.

“I was always your friend, Eren,” he clarified, taking the chance to raise his arm up and reach out to the other man in hopes of understanding, of doing something to prevent whatever he was about to do. He flinched at the sound of applause outside, a horrifying reminder of the sheer number of people outside that Eren could so easily massacre in the span of a minute if he transformed. If only he could teleport and tell Willy to get everybody the hell out of there. But alas, he was confined to this basement with nobody other than the embodiment of the Attack Titan.

“Please believe me,” he pleaded, a hopeful yet terrified smile pulling at the corner of his lips as he watched Eren’s expression soften. “I’ve always liked you.”

But Eren’s expression wasn’t softening. It was merely morphing into one of mockery, disdain sharpening in his glare and piercing his chest like a lion’s claws ripping into its prey. He never felt weaker than at that moment.

“Don’t,” he huffed, taking a deep breath before shrieking, “ patronize me! ”

He descended upon Reiner with superhuman speed, gripping his outstretched wrist and pinning it against the wall along with the rest of his body, raising his forearm up and pressing it against Reiner’s neck. He expected Reiner to scream, grunt, curse, or exhale sharply, but the last thing he expected to hear was—

“ Ah-nn!”

It was almost comical how stiff the two men went at the sound, their eyes widening at the same time as they simply stared at each other. In awe, fright, surprise, or a mixture of all three. Reiner couldn’t gather what Eren was thinking from his unreadable expression, but all he knew was that his face was bright red, his heart was racing, and his body was being far too receptive to the heavy weight on his windpipe.

And all Eren knew was that he quickly found out that he liked this just as much as Reiner so obviously did as well.

“Did you just...moan?” Eren whispered, his eyebrow quirking in intrigue. He moved his forearm forward, pressing more of his body weight into Reiner, eliciting yet another sound of pleasure from the other’s thin lips.

“N-no— mmn!” The feeling of his windpipe and the sides of his neck being pressed in together was a feeling that left Reiner’s knees weak, his eyelids growing heavy as endorphins danced around his brain, leaving him in a state of swoon.

As Reiner struggled to stay standing, all Eren could do was stare in pure shock at the scene before him. Never had he seen Reiner come undone so quickly and so easily before, not even when he came across Bertholdt fucking him brilliantly in the outhouse during training. He looked, frankly, bored, as if he was putting on a scene for the other. Perhaps it really was a good thing the beanpole died. Now, Eren could play around with that expression of pure ecstasy without worrying that a seven-foot-tall bag of bones would try and slap him with those gangly limbs.

“Interesting…” Eren trailed off, his tongue wetting his lips as he dropped his forearm, allowing Reiner to gasp for breath and cough. The blond’s hand snaked up to his own throat, making sure it was okay, although its trail was hesitant, bewildered. Was this discovery also new to Reiner himself?

“So...this is new to you, too?” he dared to ask, his hand twitching to replace Reiner’s and uncover that never-before-seen expression on the other’s face once again.

Reiner scoffed and swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing at the resistance his throat gave. “Shut up.”

“I mean, no wonder you always looked so bored when Bertholdt was fucking you,” Eren continued with a shrug as he looked around the room. He smirked, his eyes drifting to Reiner’s, mischief glinting conspicuously in both of them. “You needed something else to get you off.”

Reiner’s confusion was palpable, his agape mouth transforming into a sneer once he realized what Eren was talking about. His face had already been red, but now it was a deep scarlet as his mind ran back and quickly figured out that the shadow outside the window of the outhouse had, indeed, been Eren Yeager. How long had the little bastard been there? He was...busy during that time, so he lost track of the shadow outside once they changed positions. Had Eren...been watching them? Not merely passing by and getting surprised by the sight?

“I said shut the fuck up,” Reiner growled, pushing himself off the wall to leave. However, Eren’s hand clamped down on his throat, pushing him back in the wall and causing his head to thump off the concrete. “Shit!” He tried to gasp, but the force pressing against the sides of his throat was even stronger than before, with more purpose, causing his gasp to morph into a squeal.

“Did I say you could leave?” Eren murmured, leaning forward so that his lips tickled the shell of the other’s ear. He licked a trail on the outside of Reiner’s ear, causing the other to release another strained gasp and squirm under the weight of his hand. Perhaps this awakened something in him, too, because his body was reacting just like Reiner’s was. He couldn’t stop his hand no matter how much he tried; the expression and small whimpers the blond was making underneath him were like pure opium.

“Eren! Ere— oh,” Reiner cried, his clawing at Eren’s hand halting once the brunet’s lips fell to the junction of his jaw and neck, sucking feverishly at the soft skin that wasn’t taken up by his tense fingers. Once he came to after the sensation roiled him up, he exclaimed, “W-what are you doing? Eren, stop—”

“Stop?” Eren chuckled, his other hand dropping to Reiner’s crotch, which was painfully swollen and twitched as his knuckles brushed against it, drawing out a delicious moan from the throat underneath his hold. “And let you leave like this? How rude would that be of me, especially since I was the cause of this?” He paused, a pensive look replacing his devious one. “I mean, if you really want me to, I’ll stop.”

He stepped back, releasing Reiner’s throat and holding his hands up in the air. He tried to suppress the devilish grin that threatened to come out, keeping his face neutral. “I stopped.”

But it was nearly impossible to suppress the grin any longer as he watched Reiner’s expression morph from pure pleasure to confusion to, finally, loss. His trembling hands came up to reconvey the place where Eren’s hand was, an angry red bruise beginning to bloom at the sides of his neck as if trying to see if the hand was truly gone. His eyes dropped to his own crotch, wincing at the sight of it as well as, probably, the pain his constrictive pants were giving him.

“I…” Reiner was both at a loss for words. His eyes searched the room until they fell upon Eren again, a sort of pleading in them. He wanted Eren to read his mind so that he didn’t have to embarrass himself by begging do it again, please come here and choke me and fuck me— but all Eren did was stand there, which was somehow more infuriating than listening to him whisper humiliating things into his ear.

“...come here,” he mumbled, rubbing his forearm nervously. He didn’t dare make eye contact, staring down at the floor as if it’d kill him to look up and meet Eren’s undoubtedly jeering eyes.

“What? I couldn’t hear you?” Eren cupped his hand behind his ear and leaned forward, causing Reiner to suck on his teeth and ball his hands into fists at his sides.

“You’ve always been a little shit, haven’t you?” Reiner grumbled, his arm shooting out and gripping Eren’s wrist, bringing it up and guiding the other’s hand around his throat. “I said—”

“Ah-ah,” Eren interrupted, shaking his head. His hand stayed limp around Reiner’s throat, his other hand sitting comfortably in the pocket of his trousers. “You have to prove to me how much you want it.” He tipped his chin up, gazing at Reiner underneath heavy eyelids, shifting his weight onto one foot.

“Beg.”

“Wha-wha—” Reiner spluttered, his eyes wide and his grip on Eren’s wrist getting tighter and tighter. “What?” As much as he was surprised, his body very much was not. It took in the simple word like an aphrodisiac, his shoulders and cheeks getting even redder and his crotch getting even more painful.

“You heard what I said,” Eren taunted, licking his lips as he closed the gap between them, halting right before his lips. “Beg. Or else I’ll leave you like a bitch in heat.”

When had Eren grown so domineering? He had always had a certain gusto about him, some confidence that propelled him forward, even if it made him look like a loser. He didn’t give up during the ODM training even when it was clearly rigged against him. He made the broken thing work. It was pure rage that was fueling him, but...when had lust taken over? When had the fury in his eyes melted into hot ardor? Had he...always felt that way about Reiner?

“Eren…” he trailed off, trying to muster up the courage to actually beg. God, this was humiliating. How the hell did they even get here? What were they doing? But he couldn’t let Eren leave and kill all those people. And he certainly couldn’t fight in this condition. As much as it was dehumanizing, Eren was right. It felt as if he was in heat, his entire body boiling and in need of an electric touch.

“Choke me, please.”

“Yawn. Do better.”

“C-choke me, hard.” Reiner’s eyes rolled partly up as he felt the pressure of Eren’s hand growing around his neck, unable to restrain his outburst: “Harder! Please, choke me—touch me...ugh…”

The pressure had returned, and the physical incapability of speaking due to his constricted windpipe replaced his emotional incapability due to his dignity. But what dignity did he have now? All he could do now was completely let go.

“Fuck, yes! E-Eren, I—” He gasped when the pressure finally returned to its previous state, giving his body its much-needed dose of aggression. “I want you to f...f-fuck me.”

Eren chuckled, deep and dark, and before the other knew it, they were smashing lips, a violent exchange of saliva and pleasure.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he murmured against Reiner’s lips, both of them panting after the impromptu makeout session. He smirked as he slipped his other hand out of his pocket and trailed it down Reiner’s chest, stopping at his pecs and giving them a generous squeeze, earning him a grunt from the blond. “To be honest, I thought you’d come just from me choking you. Kind of pathetic, don’t you think?”

Reiner’s eyes were tightly squeezed shut, biting his bottom lip to prevent any more embarrassing sounds from slipping out.

“S-shut up.” But that couldn’t have been less convincing. The affinity for choking was new, but the chest fondling was old news. The training camp had been torture for him since there were way too many instances of people accidentally brushing against his pecs or nipples, almost causing him to rupture a blood vessel from trying to suppress a squeak.

But Eren was taking full advantage of having it right in front of him, diving his face into them and massaging them with his free hand with a voracious speed as if they’d disappear.

“These have grown a lot, haven’t they?” Eren jeered, pulling back his choking hand to strip Reiner of the top half of his clothing to be even closer to those soft pecs. The second the fabric had been removed, his choking hand returned and he dove right back in, leaving a trail of hickeys on the cleavage made by his pecs.

“Eren! E—a-ah—”

“I’d say they’re almost D cups, I think,” he continued, his voice muffled from the masses of muscle. He pulled back slightly, eyeing them for a moment before opening his mouth and clamping his teeth around the perfectly pink and perky nipple, leaving deep marks in the velvety areola.

“AH! What the—ow!” Reiner’s eyelids shot open, looking to see what the hell Eren was doing down there. All he saw was him grinning proudly, his hand coming up to stroke the bitemarks and not-so-accidentally passing over the nipple, giving it a gentle squeeze and flick. “Eren, the fuck?”

“Get down on your knees,” Eren commanded, and Reiner found himself on autopilot at the conviction in the other’s voice, his knees wobbling before dropping to the floor in compliance. He kept his eyes on Eren’s knees, his previous bashfulness returning; how could he make eye contact like this? He knew what was going to happen next: the horrendous blush on his face and chest made it quite clear.

Meanwhile, Eren was taking his time enjoying the view under him. He bit his bottom lip, letting out another chuckle as he shook his head. “You know, Reiner, I always looked up to you. I never thought I’d see you like this. So...submissive.” He tipped Reiner’s chin up gently with his finger to get the other to meet his eyes. “You never let me get the upper hand in training. You were the one making me drop to my knees.” He frowned. “But now you’re looking up to me. Funny how that works, huh? It only took the murder of an entire village of people and my mom to get you like this.”

Eren teasing him about his choking kink was humiliating. Being on his knees to somebody he saw as a little brother, about to commit even more sinful acts, was humiliating. But being constantly reminded of all the atrocities he committed against his friends was pure torture. It was putting quite a damper on his mood, but he couldn’t exactly tell Eren to stop talking about it because he’d only jeer him more. The only way he could think to get Eren to shut up was…

He dove forward, opening his mouth and wrapping his lips around the bulge in Eren’s trousers, his hand coming up to further massage it. His trousers smelled of grass and disinfectant, but the distraction was clearly working, seeing as Eren’s agape mouth stopped forming words and only allowed a shuddering breath to pass through.

“You’re eager, eh? Alright, I’ll give you what you want.” With one swift motion, he unbuckled his belt and was about to let it drop to the floor, but his eyes flashed with intrigue as they switched between Reiner’s neck and the leather. “On second thought…”

He wrapped it around Reiner’s neck, and before the blond could say anything, he zipped the belt until it was pressed tightly against the pallid skin underneath, already causing it to pinken from irritation. He poked a new hole into the leather, sliding it through and returning his hands to unbutton his trousers.

“You look like a dog,” Eren scoffed. Once his trousers were unbuttoned, he pushed them down only slightly; he didn’t expect this to take too long, seeing as how undone Reiner already was. He gripped the other’s jaw tightly in his hand, maneuvering the chiseled face to look up at him. “Bark for me.”

Reiner, who was still processing the belt around his neck, spluttered about and furiously shook his head, trying to get it out of Eren’s grip. “Hell no! I’m not a damn dog.”

“Hm. Shame.” Eren’s grip on him lessened, only for it to return full force when he transferred it from his muscled jaw to his short hair, the locks sticking straight up in between his fingers. “Then put your mouth to good use.”

Reiner was going to object, but the warmth radiating from in front of him made him drop his eyes to be faced with what looked like an iron rod underneath the linen fabric of Eren’s drawers. He gulped at the sight; if this didn’t fit in his mouth, how the hell was this going to go inside of him? He would have cursed himself for thinking that far ahead, but the act was inevitable—Eren was going to fuck his brains out.

He took a deep breath and leaned forward, pressing a hesitant kiss to the tip wetting the fabric with precum practically sticking up out of the top. He had caught flashes of Eren naked whenever they came across a hot spring or all the boys bathed together, and what was in front of him hardly compared to what he had seen back then. Eren truly had grown in more ways than one.

He shakily lifted a hand and moved the fabric out of the way, allowing Eren’s cock to spring up proudly, almost as if he was mocking Reiner and his need for it. He licked his lips and leaned forward, licking from the base to the tip with a flat tongue, practically drooling over it with the amount of need swirling in his chest.

“F...uck,” Eren groaned, tipping his chin up as his grip on Reiner’s hair tightened. “Got a lot of practice with Bertholdt, I see.”

Just at the mention of Bertholdt, Reiner sped up his stroking and licking, yet again hoping this method would get Eren to shut up and to produce more of those sounds of pleasure. Sure, he seemed to be dominant in this dynamic, but Reiner was the one who held the most power as of now. He could leave Eren blue-balled and walk away, or Eren could do the same to him. They were caught in a lustful dance of power, and neither wanted to walk away, as sinful as it was.

“Wait, you’re going too— shit!” The grip on his hair was growing painful, and it only grew tighter when he opened his mouth wide and engulfed Eren’s cock up to the middle, using his tongue all the while to lap up his drool and his hand to stroke the places his mouth couldn’t reach. He very much successfully got Eren to shut the fuck up, and he smiled to himself as he graciously lent his throat as a substitute for yelling at him to be quiet.

“What a fucking slut,” Eren chuckled, brushing the few long locks of hair that flopped into Reiner’s eyes, tipping his chin up slightly to meet his eyes. “Look at me while you do it.”

Pervert, Reiner thought, but he wasn’t all that different himself, for he looked up at lightning speed and locked eyes with the commandeering man above him, feeling precum and saliva running down his beard. That’ll be a bitch to clean.

“Good.” Just that word was enough to send chills down his spine, his eyelids fluttering with pleasure as he reached his hand that wasn’t busy stroking down between his legs, trying to soothe the throbbing pain spreading in his groin. But he was interrupted by Eren groaning and his grip on his hair turning into stone.

“Since you wanna go so fast,” he murmured, cocking his head curiously before pulling Reiner all the way down his cock, the other’s nose nestling in the happy trail leading down his stomach.

GURK!

“It’s satisfying to see you choking on me,” he laughed, tossing his head back to let out a moan as he could feel Reiner’s throat tightening and moving around him, the softness of the back of his mouth leaving him breathless. “I’ll fuck you in a second, but in the meantime…”

He gave an experimental thrust, slow and shallow, leading to more gurgling and choking noises from the man below him, drool beginning to build up in the corners of his mouth and dribble down his chin. Reiner’s hands flung out to grip Eren’s thighs, trying to process the fact that he was being facefucked.

“Mmgh—nngf!” He tried desperately to slurp up as much drool as he could, but it was beginning to pour now, down his chin and onto the floor, gathering into a pool near his knees. His eyes were watering, the tears accumulating in the corners of his eyes.

“F-fuck yeah,” Eren growled. Now equipped with more confidence, he pulled out of Reiner’s mouth partly—giving the other a short sense of relief—before snapping his hips forward, lodging himself deep down in his throat. A horrid gagging sound released itself from his throat, squeezing between his cheeks and Eren’s cock. His stomach dry-heaved, but he had hardly any time to recuperate before Eren launched back into thrusting himself over and over into his mouth.

“Hah— fuck, this is good,” he groaned, a smirk ever-present on his lips. He could feel Reiner’s throat straining against the belt as it expanded, which only provided even more tightness. However, his smirk disappeared once he felt a familiar warmth building up in his stomach, signaling he was almost at his end. He lowered his head from the thrown-back position it had been in before, and he almost finished on the spot when he saw the lewdness on Reiner’s face. The blond was beet red, his cheeks looking as if he had been slapped over and over—which he had somewhat been, with Eren’s stomach—his mouth berry red and stretched to accommodate the cock he was sucking so deliciously, gobs of spit running down his chin, and tears trailing down those highlighter-red cheeks. God, he looked gorgeous.

“Well,” he mumbled, pulling out of Reiner’s mouth and allowing him a moment to breathe and cough out all the phlegm and irritation gathered up in his throat. He only added more spit to the pool in front of him, falling onto hands and knees as he spat out the last of the spit and precum that accumulated in his throat.

Eren let out an exasperated breath, rolling his eyes as he buried his hand in Reiner’s hair again and roughly tugged him up to his feet, the other whining and complaining the entire way. He faced the blond for only a second before turning him around to face the wall and shoved him against it, his chest pressed against the cold stone. While his hand was busy holding Reiner’s wrists together behind his back, the other trailed down to grip his ass, giving it a firm squeeze before slipping it underneath the waistband of his trousers.

“Your mouth pussy was fantastic, but I want to use the real one,” he explained, his lips leaving the tip of Reiner’s ears bright red as he stroked the soft skin underneath his hand and cupped the mounds of well-built muscle. “What a bubble butt. Heh, you really worked hard on this. If your muscles are this tight, I can’t imagine your asshole.”

“Mm!” Reiner whimpered, his shoulders hiking up to his ears to protect them from the assault of Eren’s hot breath and humiliating words. He tried to break free from Eren’s grip on his wrists, to no avail. Both his wrists and his neck were restricted, and although it was uncomfortable, it only made the throbbing ache in his pants even more painful. How he developed this kink, he had no idea—all he knew was that he wanted relief, now. “Eren...Eren, please. Fuck me. Ple—guh— ”

“Shut up for a second,” Eren commanded as he forced two fingers into Reiner’s already heavily lubricated mouth, sopping up the spit dripping from the roof of his mouth and tongue. He shuddered at the feeling of Reiner’s soft tongue wrapping around his fingers, amazed that such a thing was on his cock only a few moments ago and even more amazed that he didn’t come on the spot. He used his thumb to push Reiner’s pants down to his ankles, marveling at the view of his back muscles rippling under his pale skin, fighting against the restraining grip on his wrists, followed by the elegant slope into the two golden apples for an ass.

“Goddamn,” he breathed, lowering his head and opening his mouth to deliver a deep bite to the virgin skin at the nape of Reiner’s neck, sinking his canines into the flesh in an almost animalistic motion, causing Reiner to jolt from underneath him.

“Eren, stop with the biting!” Reiner pleaded, but he couldn’t help the whispery moan that passed through his lips at the thought of being marked.

“Sorry not sorry,” Eren replied with a snicker, resorting to leaving hickeys to further mark his presence on Reiner’s body, proudly screaming I was here and fucked him beautifully. “You clean back here?”

The mere insinuation that he wasn’t made Reiner want to turn around and snap Eren’s neck right then and there, especially considering he very much doubted Eren was. He grunted, the awkwardness of that question causing nausea to boil in his stomach.

“I...bathed for the festival earlier today,” he explained haltingly, his blush radioactive at this point. But when Eren didn’t move right away, he sighed and opened his legs slightly, wrestling one wrist free and trailing it down to his asscheek, spreading it open as a very clear invitation. “Hurry up.”

Eren’s eyes widened, and a heated smile filled out his face at the sight of Reiner coming completely undone and practically begging to get fucked. Before the spit on his fingers could dry, he spread Reiner’s cheeks with his other fingers and plunged his index and middle fingers inside, earning a squeal from the blond.

“S-slow! Slower!”

A confused look crossed Eren’s face, but he shrugged and continued to scissor Reiner open, curling his fingers against the soft walls to try and find that one spot that drove men crazy. He found out about that quickly while at the hospital, a male nurse being particularly caring and spreading his legs open to cure a patient.

“I thought you’d be looser than this,” he replied, genuinely baffled at how tightly Reiner’s grip around his fingers was. How the hell was he supposed to fit inside? They said the bottom being tight is more pleasurable, but he imagined it’d downright hurt his dick.

“You jackass, I haven’t done it in a-a wh... while,” Reiner stuttered, a grunt sneaking in between his words as he tried to accustom himself to the feeling. He was arching his back as much as possible, but he quickly discovered it could arch much more when a sudden wave of pleasure crashed over him and a lustful cry made his mouth drop.

“Found it,” Eren sang, a proud grin spreading across his lips.

“Hng-! ” was all that came out of Reiner, followed by heavy breathing and small whimpers as he tried to regulate his breathing, but it was difficult when Eren ruthlessly continued abusing that spot now that he knew its location. “Eren...it feels...a-ah…”

“My fingers are magic, I know,” he replied with a shit-eating grin, and although Reiner’s back was to him, he could feel the bratty expression he was making.

“Oh, shut up, you idiot,” Reiner groaned, about to insult the other once more before another wave of pure pleasure corrupted him and returned him to his panting, sweating state.

After a few more moments of scissoring and dirty talk, Eren pulled out his fingers, much to Reiner’s dismay, and gripped himself as he stepped closer and lined himself up with Reiner’s entrance.

“Alright, get ready,” he joked, bracing the wall with one hand and snaking the other around Reiner’s neck once more, pulling his head back so that he could see the look of shock in his eyes as he slowly pushed the tip inside.

“Ngh!” Tears were gathering at the corners of Reiner’s eyes again as he attempted, again and again, to relax and breathe the pain away, but it didn’t help that Eren was so well-endowed. “Just...slow—go slowly.”

Eren pulled out at a snail’s pace, looking down to see where they connected before pushing back in, earning a low groan from both the men. “I don’t even have to try. You’re so tight, I can’t fucking move. Feels like my dick is going to be pulled off.”

Reiner rolled his eyes, about to say something until a sigh interrupted him as Eren continued to pull out and push inside, staying at the same pace. “I can’t control that. I hope your dick gets pulled off. Maybe then you wouldn’t be a murderous basta— hngh!”

A slap echoed in the small room from Eren giving one solid thrust, the roughness of it seen from the reddening of Reiner’s ass. He chuckled at the other’s reaction and tightened his grip on his neck, the belt making it a lot easier to yank him back and force him to meet his eyes. “Watch your words, Braun. Or else,” he gave another rapid thrust, causing the fat on Reiner’s ass to ripple from the force, “that will happen.”

“O-okay, okay, I’m d-done!” Reiner cried, his arm reaching back to grip Eren’s shirt for leverage while the other clung to the wall for dear life. “I promise, I’ll s...nngh...stop.”

“That’s what I thought,” Eren taunted, licking a trail up Reiner’s cheek, picking up the salty tears spilling from his eyes along the way. “You think I can move now without losing my dick?”

Reiner didn’t answer. All he did was lower his head as much as he could with Eren’s grip on it, preparing himself to lose the small ounce of dignity he still had left. He arched his back and pushed back onto Eren’s cock, gasping at the feeling of it spreading him apart and leaving him so perfectly full. He swirled his hips, trying to find that spot Eren so easily discovered, all the while pulling out and swirling his hips as he pushed back. It was quite the ab workout, causing sweat to build up on his hairline and building a thin sheen on his skin.

This was heaven on Earth. The view was spectacular, but what was more spectacular was watching Reiner act like a complete slut, as if Eren’s cock was the only thing that could bring him relief and pleasure. He was really willing to give up all his dignity just to use it to pleasure himself, and Eren couldn’t have been more willing of a participant.

“I guess that’s the answer to my question,” he breathed, a moan causing him to throw his head back. He dropped both his hands to Reiner’s hips, riding alongside their gyrating motions. “Yeah...that’s nice. Keep moving like that.”

“Eren,” Reiner warned, looking over his shoulder now that his neck was freed. “Eren, move, goddamn it.”

Eren cocked his head. “Is that how you ask for it?”

“Oh, for fuck’s—Eren, please, fuck me. Ruin me, do what you want, just please fuck m— ”

“That’s all I needed to hear.” It only took half a second for Eren to comply with Reiner's wishes, snapping his hips forward and sending Reiner careening toward the wall, his face pressed up against the stone just like his chest was. He’d definitely have scrapes on his face as it bounced up and down with each merciless thrust that practically sent him up the wall.

“ Ahn—ugh! Fuck, fuck, yes! Feels good, f-feels so—hnngh! ” The dry slapping noises eventually turned into wet, squelching sounds that would have made Reiner cringe, but he could barely hear them in the fugue state he was in. Eren was right: he felt like a dog in heat, his mind on nothing else but getting pounded until he was filled.

“Faster! God, faster! Ngh, harder!”

Reiner’s moans leaked, and as much as he wanted to stop, he didn’t have the energy since all of it was going into not finishing right then and there. It was just what he needed, except…

He tilted his head back, which was difficult with how roughly Eren was slamming into him, but he eventually caught Eren’s eye and smiled. “Choke me, Eren. Choke me until I can’t breathe.”

Eren smiled back, his grin malicious. “You got it, sweetheart.”

He took that command to heart because instead of one hand this time around, he used both hands, wrapping them around Reiner’s neck and using that for leverage instead of his hips. It was honestly a nicer angle to better fuck Reiner into oblivion, and he used it to his full advantage.

Smack, smack, smack, smack…

“ Guh— ugh, fu-uck,” Reiner groaned, practically gargling his own words with how he could barely breathe. Meanwhile, Eren was struggling with holding back his own moans with how velvety soft Reiner’s walls were, hugging him like the most comfortable sweater in the world. How did he go this long without taking advantage of the hole that had been around him all this time?

“I never thought you’d be this easy of a lay,” Eren remarked, graduating one hand’s place from Reiner’s neck to his hair, pulling it and pushing his face into the concrete. “Who knew you’d open up to me this easily? If I knew, I would’ve fought Bertholdt for access to your ass.”

The fog of lust clouding Reiner’s brain long enough for him to understand and process Eren’s comments, and, even though it was nearly impossible to speak anything other than moans and whines and emote anything other than pleasure, he still attempted to reach backward and scratch Eren’s hip, leaving three bright marks on the tanned skin.

“After this is over, I’m going to kill you,” Reiner managed to say when Eren stopped shortly to readjust his angle. He was very grateful for that split second of clarity because once Eren started up, instead of brushing against that spot, he was directly nailing it over and over with perfect precision.

“ OH— oh, my God, I-I’m—too much, too much, I’m so— ah, hah... c-close—!” Reiner was incoherent at this point, finally reaching the “brains fucked out” stage of this brutal hookup. He could no longer think. All he could do was moan, pant, and cry out each time his spot was abused.

“ Hah—I’m gonna come soon, t-too,” Eren breathed, having his own difficulties with speech. He tried to act as cool and collected for as long as possible, but now, it was nearly impossible, with each thrust drawing out the warm feeling in his stomach more and more. It also didn’t help that Reiner kept tightening around him with each thrust, giving him all the components to finish. He just needed one thing.

“Where do you want it?” Eren whispered, dropping his head to take advantage of the last few moments to leave more hickeys all along Reiner’s neck and collarbones.

Reiner was beyond redemption at this point, evidenced by the fact that he all but screamed out, “Inside! Please, inside, come inside, I n-need it, I need you, please, I—”

His orgasm was sudden and unexpected, but Eren hit his spot at the perfect angle and speed, causing it to rip through his body. He was left speechless, going rigid as his vision spotted before going completely white, finally receiving the release he had been chasing over the past half hour. He heard somebody wailing, and when his consciousness returned to him, he realized he was the one making that awful noise, his vocal cords frying themselves with the unadulterated ecstasy running through his system.

Eren didn’t take much longer to follow, giving a few more slams—rougher than all the ones preceding them—before coming undone deep inside Reiner, groaning at the feeling of warmth coating Reiner’s walls and making his insides even hotter than they already were. But he wasn’t done. In his state of bliss, he managed to pull out of Reiner—earning a pitiful whimper from the other—and turn him around to push down on his shoulders so that he was on his knees again.

“Fuck, fuck—fuck! ” Eren couldn’t help the countless exclamations of pleasure that racked his body as he stroked himself furiously in front of Reiner’s face. The last of his come splashed on Reiner’s face, coating his cheeks and the bridge of his nose in the milky white substance. Yet again, he wasn’t done. He smeared the tip across Reiner’s lips, painting them with the same glossy color. And with that, he was done, stepping back to admire his handiwork. He grinned, satisfied with the result.

He had completely ruined Reiner Braun. His hair was tangled and sticking out in all different places. His eyes were red from crying. His face was completely coated in sticky, hot semen. He could barely open his lips without it stringing between them. Tears stained his splotched cheeks, and dried saliva ran down the entirety of his chin and throat. His chest was red as well, full of bite marks and hickeys. His neck was a completely different story—it was probably rubbed raw and full of scratches and finger indentations, all of which were hidden under the belt. And then…

“Turn around for me and bend over,” Eren said, his last demand of the night.

He had evidently turned Reiner into an obedient subordinate because without a single complaint or hesitation, the blond nodded submissively and turned around, revealing his back that was full of scratches and the deep bite mark at the nape of his neck. To think, he’d probably be targeting that nape in a couple of minutes once again, except it’d be for the kill. He wondered if, when he’d rip Reiner from the nape of his Titan’s neck and admire his dead body, the bite mark on his neck would still be there.

Reiner bent over, lifting his ass in the air and dropping his chest and face to the floor, a look of pure embarrassment on his soiled face.

“Beautiful,” Eren whispered to himself as he watched his come pour out of Reiner’s hole, running down his leg and dripping onto the ground. “Satisfied?”

Reiner, from his docile place on the floor, nodded his head, his hair flowing back and forth on the ground. “Y-yes...thank you…”

He then collapsed to the floor, his hips no longer able to sustain his own weight. His legs were trembling, never having experienced such a savage fucking before. It had always been loving, sweet, slow. But he quickly found that he had been severely deprived of something he so desperately needed. He’d probably get brain damage from all the choking he was going to do in the future, but that didn’t matter. He already planned on dying soon, anyway.

“I’m going...to kill you...after this,” Reiner continued, severely out of breath.

Eren walked over silently, squatting down and brushing the hair out of Reiner’s sweaty and dirtied face. “I’d like to see you try. You can barely walk.”

He laughed and pat Reiner on the rear, standing back up and walking over to the exit as he fixed his trousers and buttoned them.

“But thanks for the good fuck. I needed that. Honestly, if I hadn’t made everybody from Paradis come rescue me today, I’d save this battle for another day. I’m feeling very…” He lifted up his hands, looking at his nails and running his fingers through his hair. “...relaxed right now.”

Reiner was half-asleep, but he was conscious enough to have heard Eren’s words loud and clear. He snapped his head up and turned to stare at Eren to see if what he heard was the truth, but all he was met with was Eren adjusting his shirt and tightening his hair into a bun.

“P-Paradis?”

“Yeah. Heh.” Eren looked over his shoulder and winked. “I’ll catch you out there, then. If you manage to survive, come to Paradis. I’ll give you a very special welcome.”

And with that, Eren Yeager exited the room heavy with the smell of sex and quiet enough to hear a pin drop. Reiner Braun was left alone—used and besmirched with a fucked-out mind—to mull over what just happened and what will happen in only a handful of minutes.

Eren fucking Yeager.

#attack on titan #aot fanfiction #eren jaeger #eren yeager #reiner braun #eren x reiner #smut #aot smut #fanfiction

61 notes · View notes

blackmissfrizzle · 4 years

Text

The Barbershop (Miguel Edition)

Angel’s Edition

Characters: Miguel Galindo x black!reader

Summary: Miguel calls the reader to come trim his beard.

Warnings: Smut

A/N: This is my first time writing for Miguel! I hope y’all enjoy. Angel’s edition is linked above and y’all let me know if you want me to do more Mayans. I wanna spread my wings a bit.

The plane literally just landed when you got the call. There was nothing you wanted more than a hot shower and your bed, but when Miguel Galindo calls, you come. Anything for the king. At least you didn’t have to drive over there. Nestor was there at the airport waiting to take you to Miguel’s.

Thankfully, the ride was a little long, giving you enough time to rest and mentally prepare yourself to be around Miguel. There was an unspoken attraction between the two of you. Lingering gazes, blazing accidental touches, and little flirtatious remarks. None of which could be acted on because 1) he was married and 2) you didn’t date clients; it was bad for business (but you were more than willing to make an exception for Miguel.)

When you got to the house, Nestor took all your bags out the car. You told him it was unnecessary, but he just smiled and said, “Just in case.”

Miguel sat out by the pool, waiting for you. He enjoyed being out there because he loved how your skin glistened under the sun.

“Hola, Senor Galindo.” You greeted him tiredly. You wanted him to feel bad for making you come over right after your trip.

Miguel knew he should feel a bit of guilt, but he couldn’t as he watched you take off your jacket revealing how snug your tank top was and how it accentuated your curves. “Hermosa,” he got up from his seat to greet you properly. He wrapped you in his arms and had to resist the urge to bury his nose in your hair. It was so intoxicating that Miguel found himself buying the same hair products you used to comfort him during the lonely nights.

His arms around you were beginning to be a little too much, so you backed out of them and gently pushed him into his seat. “Couldn’t wait one more day, could you?”

Miguel unashamedly shrugged his shoulders. “One more day and I’ll look like a Duck Dynasty reject.”

“Aw, we couldn’t have that.” You teased, wrapping the apron around him.

The conversation with Miguel was kept light and amusing as you worked on his beard. For a busy cartel boss, he was surprisingly up to date with all the small town gossip. You probably had Dita to thank for that.

“How was Los Angeles? I got scared for a bit and thought you would get caught up in the glitz and glamour and not come back to Santo Padre.” Miguel was right, you were fascinated with LA, but only for a moment. Two days there and you were already homesick. It was crowded, there was too much traffic, and they didn’t even have real Mexican food.

“No, never. I love Santo Padre too much. But Chris Evans came dangerously close to making me change my mind.” The reason for your trip was because your work as a barber was getting more recognition. So much so that THE Christopher Jamal Evans dm’d you to shape up his hairline and beard. It was unbelievable. You cut hair of up and coming artists in surrounding areas, but you never thought you would cut hair for one of Hollywood’s biggest stars.

“Is that so?” Miguel asked clearly bothered, but you didn’t notice because you were too busy rambling about Chris.

Chris smelled so good. Chris was so much bigger in person. You felt like Peggy when Steve stepped out the pod. Chris was the sweetest. Chris had the softest touch. Chris was so funny. Chris’ dog was the cutest. Chris, Chris, Chris. If Miguel heard about Chris anymore, he would lose his mind.

“Oh, and he took me to dinner with Sebastian Stan and Anthony Mackie! Can anybody say choo-choo?” You were laughing at your own joke until you felt fingers in your core. To keep your balance, you had to grab onto Miguel’s shoulders.

“Emily,” you mumbled the wife’s name of the client who currently had their fingers deep in your pussy.

“That wasn’t the name I was expecting. Sure, it wasn’t supposed to be mines? Or better yet Chris’?” Was that jealousy you heard? Did he even have the right to be jealous? He was a married man with a child.

“We can’t, you’re- Fuck!” His fingers massaging your walls made it difficult for you to form coherent sentences.

Miguel was enjoying this. With a touch he was making you fall apart. “Hmm, what was that?” He continued to finger you while he massaged your inner thigh with his free hand.

“We can’t do this, Miguel. You’re married!” In between whimpers you managed to get that out.

Taking his fingers out of you, he made a dramatic showing of licking his fingers clean. “Sabrosa. (Tasty).” Miguel pulled you onto his, thigh, his face gentle now as he held your chin in his hand. “I’m separated. I gave Emily the divorce papers the day you left.”

His words took a while to settle in, but when they did Miguel almost laughed at you shocked little face. “You better not be playing with me, Miguel Galindo!” You slapped him across the chest.

Miguel took the offending hand and pressed a kiss to it. “I promise. I’m giving her a couple of days to get over the shock and read over the papers. She’ll sign them, trust me.”

His reassurance was all you needed. Squealing, you wrapped your arms around Miguel’s neck and smashed your lips against his. It wasn’t long before Miguel slipped his tongue inside of your mouth, taking control of the kiss.

“Finish your job, mi cielo.” Miguel ordered. You tried to get up, but Miguel slammed you back down on his thigh, insisting you finish the job there. Miguel’s hands roaming all over your body made it hard to focus. You let him know that he wasn’t playing fair and his response was, “You’ll learn that I never play fair.”

Soon enough, you finished cleaning up his beard, but Miguel didn’t let you linger and admire your work. “I think I need some moisturizer for my beard.”

“What?! I just applied some.”

Miguel wrapped his arms around your waist and carried you to the couch. He laid down on it while he kept you on top of him. “Yeah, but you’re going to ride my face until your pussy juices soak my beard, mami.”

You still had you smock on with all of your tools in it. Miguel untied it but not before grabbing your blade and slicing your skirt and panties apart. “Such a pretty pussy and its all mine.” Miguel ran his fingers along your slit, making you shiver.

Gripping your hips, Miguel settled you over his lips. His tongue softly made love to your folds. You held onto his hair and called out his name. The devil had a silver tongue and knew how to use it. Instinctively, you rolled your hips against his mouth, riding him like he told you.

“There you go, sweetheart. Ride me just like that. Use me to get yourself off and ready for my cock.”

You followed his orders, but not without a little fun. Never being a selfish lover, you decided to dish out some pleasure of your own. Reaching behind you, you unbuckled Miguel’s belt and pants. His dick practically fumbled out his boxers. The way it slapped against his stomach, told you it was a monster. You got your confirmation when you placed your hand around it. How he would fit was beyond you, but y’all would make it work.

As you stroke him Miguel’s moans turned you on so much that you could see your juices dripping down his beard. Turns out your wetness was a good moisturizer after all. However, you didn’t allow yourself to appreciate it for long. Your attention was needed elsewhere.

Miguel was about to complain about his new favorite meal being taken away from him when he felt you lift up from his mouth.

“What? You’re the only one who can get a taste?” You asked mischievously, pressing a soft kiss to his engorged head.

Miguel smacked your ass. “Nobody likes a tease. Suck this dick, mami.” He thrusted his hips upwards and you welcomed his dick with an open warm mouth.

You prided yourself on being a good dick sucker, but with Miguel sucking on your clit and his fingers carving his name out in your pussy, you were beginning to doubt yourself. So many moans were coming out of your mouth that you barely sucked his dick. But when you did manage to get your mouth around it, you decided Miguel was the best thing you tasted. He was more addictive than the drugs he sold. And the smell of him…god he even smelled expensive down there.

You were so caught up in admiring his dick, that you didn’t notice your orgasm sneaking up on you, almost making you choke on his dick. “Imma have to train you how to properly take my cock, cariña. But that’ll have to wait til later.”

Miguel place you on the couch and took off the rest of his clothes. His eyes remained on you as you shed your top and bra. He couldn’t help but be amazed by your beauty. No matter how long he would be with you, he would never get over you.

“Querida, I promise to give you the world.”

“I’ll just settle for your heart.” Miguel’s soft smile warmed you throughout your body and you promised yourself you’ll do whatever you could to keep that smile on his face. “And your dick as well.” You began to stroke him again.

His growl and how quickly he jumped on you surprised you. “That’s why you deserve everything. You’re the sweetest, dirtiest little thing.”

Running your hands up and down Miguel’s chest and trailing kisses up his neck, you nipped at his ear. “Miguel, if you don’t put your dick in me right now, I swe- FUCK!”

Your cartel daddy filled you up to the brink, bringing a pinch of pain with overwhelming pleasure. Nothing could describe how good he was making you feel. All you knew was that Miguel ruined other men for you.

The moans and expletives coming out of your mouth was a boost to Miguel’s ego. Earlier he was scared that your feelings for him disappeared. Enclosing his hand around your throat, Miguel leaned down to just barely hover over your lips. “I bet Christopher Evans couldn’t have you creaming like this. Could he?”

“No, he couldn’t,” you whimpered. Miguel began to thrust into you harder causing your legs to shake uncontrollably.

“Then, I bet not ever hear another word about him or his little friends using you as a cumdump. You’re mine little cumdump and no one else. Entiendes?”

Tears were running down your face from how good Miguel was giving it to you. “Yes, I understand, daddy.”

“Good. Now cum all over this dick, mi reina.” Miguel kissed the edge of your mouth and intertwined his fingers with yours. The soft gesture had you falling over the edge. Miguel soon followed after you.

The two of you spent a few minutes in silence basking in each other’s glory. When Miguel noticed you drifiting off to sleep, he decided to carry you to his room for a more comfortable rest. The next morning when you woke up, you were grateful that Nestor brought your bags in after all.

Tags: @starrynite7114 @ifoundmyhappythought @sadeyesgf @woahitslucyylu @marvelmaree @angrythingstarlight @teakturn @marvelmaree @thickemadame @dearsamcrobae @strawberrywritings

#miguel galindo #miguel #miguel galindo x reader #miguel galindo x black!reader #miguel x reader #miguel x black!reader #mayans mc #mayans #black!reader #frizzlefic #frizzlesfic

556 notes · View notes

astralaffairs · 4 years

Note

so hear me out- mafia!thom where mc is a spy! working with the rival group or the government (probably run by hamilton) and gets caught? I’m just a simp for e2l~

ok but this prompt is FUN !!!!! ugh the tension

in which thom is a meanie >:( and james isn’t a softie

-------

“...one of Hamilton’s soldiers. Yeah, we found her down by the docks with a couple others; looked like they were trying to make a hit where we planned our drop.”

“Really? What happened to the others?”

“Got away. She was stationed closest to us, but by the time we got our hands on her, everyone else was starting to split.”

“Some loyalty.”

When Y/N found herself gradually beginning to drift into consciousness, disembodied voices polluting the dank, cold air around her, she found a splitting pain in her head and a dull ache in her shoulders. Cautiously, she cracked an eye open, squinting in the low light as she found herself in some clichéd, nondescript warehouse. Figures.

Her ass was getting sore from the metal folding chair she’d woken up tied to (seriously, they couldn’t have sprung for anything more luxurious?), and the harsh metal of the handcuffs around her wrists was digging into her skin. As her eyes adjusted, she could make out, if only vaguely, two — likely male — figures standing leaned against the wall, chatting about her circumstance as casually as if it were the weather. She sniffled, her nose running in the cold, and she itched to wipe at it. She sniffled harder.

“...She awake?”

“It sounds to me like she is.”

Y/N’s pulse began to accelerate as she heard footsteps echoing across the concrete floor, headed in her direction. She didn’t dare lift her gaze. She searched for any way out of the bind she was in — even if she could pick off the handcuffs, her ankles were tied to each of the chairs’ legs.

“Glad to see you conscious.” The voice was flat, cold as he finally addressed her, and Y/N swallowed hard. “What’s your name?”

She didn’t answer, head still bowed, instead responding with, “Where am I?”

Her tone was gruff, as menacing as she could manage with as small, weak as she felt, but the man who’d addressed her laughed. “Answer my question, and I’ll answer yours. Surely, you understand the concept of a quid-pro-quo?”

“You first.” Her glare was burning as she forced herself to look him in the eye, and while the man next to him looked annoyed, he remained entirely undeterred.

“I’m rather surprised that you think yourself in a position to be making demands.”

She scowled. “C’mon, what d’you have left to lose, telling me where we are while I’m your captive? God knows you’re just going to end up moving me, assuming I live that long.”

“A bold assumption,” one of the men said, tone dry and irked, but the man directly in front of Y/N gave him a tired look.

“Aaron,” he warned. “I’ll handle this.”

“Then handle it”

He visibly rolled his eyes as he turned back to Y/N, and the other man (Aaron, apparently), retreated to the outskirts of the expansive room, pulling out a pack of cigarettes.

“Anyway,” he went on, and Y/N huffed, yanking at the rope binding her arms to the chair. She knew it was futile, but it was more for her discomfort than any genuine attempt to escape. “It seems to me you have even less left to lose than we do. And you must know that we have other, less pleasant means of getting what we want, so it is in your own interest to comply.”

Y/N hesitated a moment — surely, once they’d taken her captive, they’d rooted through her belongings, opened her wallet, screened her for weapons, and checked her ID. Was this just some kind of intimidation technique? A power play? He was unfortunately correct; she didn’t have much to lose.

“My name’s Y/N,” she grumbled, finally. “As though you haven’t already torn through all my documentation.”

“How perceptive of you. Most try a few pseudonyms first.” His smile was serene. “This just might be fun.”

“What might be fun? Torturing and killing me? Throwing my body out to sea?” she bit back, the fury in her gaze never wavering, but he raised an eyebrow.

“What would make you think such a thing?” Mocking offense saturated his voice.

“I know you’re part of Jefferson’s fucking mob.” She yanked at her handcuffs; they clanked loudly against the chair. “I’ve heard about what you do to people.”

“Oh, have you? Thomas will be pleased with our notoriety.” As if on cue, three pairs of footsteps echoed behind Y/N — one of them must have been Aaron’s, as he was suddenly nowhere to be found, but the satisfied smile the man in front of her wore told her that she wasn’t going to like whatever came next. “Well, speak of the devil.”

Her eyes widened. Surely, they didn’t bring Jefferson himself to come see her, right? Dealing with captives was grunt work, not the responsibility of a mafia boss. She tugged and picked aggressively at her handcuffs, desperate to find a lock she’d be able to release.

“James.” The voice came from just behind her, a sadistic mirth in the man’s tone as he addressed the man who stood before her (James, apparently). The footsteps stalled at the exact moment Y/N grunted, throwing her shoulders forward with the link of the handcuffs caught on the chair’s edge. To think that she might actually be able to break her hands free was a desperate hope, but the man behind her laughed — not a taunting, mocking laugh, but one that made it clear how genuinely entertaining he was finding her pathetic struggle.

“I gotta say, when you told me you got one of Hamilton’s crew, I didn’t believe you at first.” A chill ran down Y/N’s spine when he circled her, and though she didn’t have any desire to look him in the eye, her curiosity overwhelmed her. When he reached her front, Thomas Jefferson, in the flesh, blood, and magenta business attire, crouched before her, and she swallowed roughly. He still managed to dwarf the chair to which she was tied. “But that mark is unmistakable, huh?”

Her skin burned as his gaze fixed on her neck, where she’d been branded just above her collarbone upon being sworn in as a member of Alexander’s mob. She turned her head away from him.

“She isn’t just any of his soldiers, either.” While James’s voice came from her left, Jefferson didn’t move, watching her with pleased intrigue. “She’s a Hamilton by blood.”

His eyes flashed with delight; his grin widened. “Oh, is she, now?”

With her head turned, Y/N inadvertently met James’s content stare, and though she didn’t waste a moment in tearing her gaze away, Jefferson occupied the remainder of her line of vision. She couldn’t help it when he caught her eye, and she couldn’t seem to look away. The way he watched her was predatory.

James hummed in confirmation. “His sister.”

“No.” His surprise was unmistakable, as was his perverse triumph. When she sneered back at him, he finally drew himself up to his full height, giving a satisfied chuckle. He turned to James. “Where would I be without you?”

“Same place, worse administration.”

“You got that right,” Jefferson said. “Just think about everything we’re gonna be able to do with her. She’s just the leverage we’ve been lookin’ for.”

“We searched her when she arrived, but nothing she had on her person gave us any new information. Her phone was a burner.”

“Normally, I’d call that disappointin’, but,” —Jefferson glanced back at her with a smug smile, if only for a fleeting moment— “we don’t needa dig up any of their communications when we’ve got the primary source all to ourselves.”

“If she’s really a Hamilton, I doubt she’s just going to talk that easily.” A feminine voice came from behind Y/N; she’d assumed Jefferson had entered flanked only by men. “Don’t get overconfident.”

“‘Course not, Maria. I know the limits of my own strength.” Y/N resisted rolling her eyes. “But I can tell she’s gonna be fun to break.”

She shuddered, squeezing her eyes shut; she wasn’t sure if she was more disgusted by the words they were saying or by how they were talking about her as though she wasn’t even there to listen. Maria scoffed. “Be careful. We need her responsive if we’re going to use her as bait.”

“Please. Bait’s thinkin’ too short-term. We can do a whole lot more with her than that.”

“Seriously? But if we keep her around—”

“I’m sitting right here, you know.” Y/N cut them off forcefully, looking up unabashedly with rage in her gaze. No one seemed so much as taken aback by it, hardly reacting to her outburst, and Jefferson met her eyes with an entertained smile, taking a step toward her.

“Oh, believe me, sweetheart, we know.” As he leaned down, Y/N could feel him looming over her, and any of her confidence in her actions was leveled. He hooked his fingers under her chin, forcing her to look up at him, and she grit her teeth.

“No one’s forgettin’ about you, here. After all, you’re the guest of honor,” he cooed, and his soft, condescending tone made her skin crawl. When she tried to jerk away from his touch, he gripped her chin. “And such a pretty little thing, too. ‘S a shame you’re a Hamilton, ‘cause I wouldn’t mind havin’ you all to myself.”

“Get your hands off me,” she snarled, and he laughed.

“You’re adorable, actin’ as though I’m gonna listen to a word you say.” He plastered on a pout, and she was shaking when he reached up to cup her cheek, run his thumb across her bottom lip. “Y’know, it’d do you well to learn who’s in charge here. As of today, I own you, and you’re lucky I like a challenge.”

“You don’t own shit,” she spat, but her voice trembled, and he raised an eyebrow. She could feel her eyes welling up. “My family’s coming for me. And when they do, you’re gonna be sorry.”

“Now, don’t tell me you really think that?” Mocking pity saturated his voice, and when Y/N only stared back at him blankly, he went on, “Nobody’s comin’ for you. If they really cared about you, they wouldn’t have fled so easy at the docks at the first sign of trouble. They wouldn’t have abandoned you there.”

“Excuse me?” was all she managed to say in a shaky, breathy whisper. He nodded sympathetically.

“That’s right. I know all about how your family left you for dead.” Her eyes stung when the first tear rolled down her cheek, and Jefferson brushed it away. Despite his contrived pout, satisfaction shone in his eyes. “Aw, no need to cry. ‘M sure all that hurts to hear, but you’re with us now. Your family’s the least of your worries.”

“I fucking swear,” she said, and despite the determined look she wore, her tears were now falling freely, “I swear, no matter what you do to me in here, I’m not going to break. I’m not going to let you break me.”

“Oh, sweetheart, no need to be scared. I have every confidence in you,” he assured her, “but I don’t intend to try and break you.”

“I’m not scared,” she hissed, and he smiled.

“I’m sure you aren’t.” He leaned in closer to her, and as he eyed her expression, he smoothed a piece of her hair back, wiped the tears from under her eyes. “And you don’t have to be. If you can be a good, obedient little girl and behave yourself, I think you’ll be surprised at just how gentle we can be.”

“And if I don’t?”

"You will.” The words were spoken with a degree of authority that sent chills down her spine; he spoke as though this were an inexorable truth. “I’m not gonna have to break you, and I won’t bother to try. You’re gonna give in to me all on your own, and it’s gonna be so much sweeter that way.”

“You’re delusional,” she seethed, and the smile that split his expression was wide, confident, but above all, unsettling.

“We’ll see about that.”

With that, he finally pulled back from her, looking beyond smug as he redirected his focus to the group, but he quickly adopted a harsh tone. “James, Aaron,” he barked, nodding toward the chair she was bound to. He caught her eye one final time, and while panic flashed in her gaze, he was beyond satisfied. “Set up a room for our guest. Looks like she’s here to stay.”

219 notes · View notes

soukokuwu · 4 years

Note

angsty angst with atsushi discovering his s/o’s dead body 🥴

NO GOODBYES. genre; pairing; word count. angst; atsushi x pm!reader; 1,750 words warnings. death, mentions of abuse, gaslighting, toxic relationship synopsis. the one thing you did right, and it came a little too late. author notes. hi there (sorry for the super long wait too), but i combined it with this as requested by another(?) anony, i hope you like this! let me know what y’all think <3

What you tolerate, you encourage.

What you permit, you promote.

Perhaps if he hadn’t been so caught up in who you used to be, then he wouldn’t be in this predicament right now. Perhaps if he hadn’t been in love with the idea of who you could be, then he would have had the strength to let you go. But love makes people stupid sometimes.

And Atsushi is no exception.

No matter how many times Kunikida or the others tried to interfere, to warn him that you were no good, Atsushi wouldn’t listen. Why? Because he’s inherently kind, and sometimes to a fault. This time, it would be considered a fault. The weretiger is so blinded by you that he believes everything you do is out of love; because you can’t bear losing him. He uses love to justify your actions.

But nobody questioned this: Atsushi doesn’t understand what love is.

At least, not fully, and not yet. Especially when he acts as stubborn as a mule when it comes to you. Whatever heinous thing you did to him, he makes an excuse for it, hides it from everyone he works with every single day. And the worst part is, everyone in the agency can tell why.

A young boy, growing up in an orphanage with an abusive headmaster and nearly killed what, how many times? Once? Twice? A young boy, who grew up scared yet with a heart of gold. Starving, but wouldn’t steal. Lost, yet wouldn’t ask for help. He has never known proper care, proper love. So how could he be so sure you really loved him as he claimed you did?

The ones who could think more objectively — Dazai, Ranpo — they knew. Kunikida still let his personal feelings get in the way, he and the others didn’t give you the time of day. But back to the other two, they knew the answer. Why does Atsushi make up so many excuses for you time and time again? Why does he firmly believe that your feelings for him are true?

Because once upon a time, you really did love him.

In the beginning, before things took a wrong turn. Before his passiveness led to you taking advantage of him. Who was at fault? Maybe if he wasn’t so meek you wouldn’t have had that much control over him. But then again, you could’ve been a good person with a decent moral compass and not sucked him dry. Although, no one is surprised you behaved that way.

You are a member of the Port Mafia after all.

Atsushi remembers every single horrible thing you did. He’s blinded by love to stay with you, yes. But he isn’t totally lacking in common sense. He knows the things you do are wrong. He just hopes that each time you do it, there is a good enough reason behind your motivations. Besides, they always say it’s the thought that counts, right? And he thinks no differently.

One can only learn so much apart from experience.

He thinks back to everything now, while he slugs forward, slowly walking back to the dorms. He thinks about everything his coworkers have confronted him with. Atsushi doesn’t know what he plans on doing with the information, but with everyone pressuring him to at least reconsider the relationship, maybe he should think on it.

The first thing they told him: he is way too lenient with you. More often than not, they pointed out your jealousy to be irrational and unfounded. You’ve been with the Port Mafia longer than Atsushi’s been with the ADA, so you know of the existence of Yosano and Naomi, and now you’re aware that Kyouka’s part of them too. And somehow, without rhyme or reason, you always accuse Atsushi of having the hots for one of them. On occasion it’s Yosano, sometimes Naomi, but mostly Kyouka, which the weretiger is frankly very appalled by. Taking the age difference and her age itself, she has always been more of a sister to him, of course he’d take care of her.

But you didn’t buy that. You always manage to hang it over his head, always needs him to assure you countless times over and over again that he loves you and only you. Even then you doubted his words.

His colleagues’ take on this? It’ll never end. It’s an endless cycle. Because he let it go on for far too long. And now it’s too hard to pry that habit away from you.

Two. Ranpo was kind enough to put his two cents in the situation when bribed with snacks. He knows how abusive you are — you’re just lucky that Atsushi has the healing powers of the tiger, lucky that no bruises every stay on his skin for all to see. But Ranpo knows, and Dazai, because it’s just like that. They just do. And nobody else in the office doubts their word. Atsushi doesn’t fight back against you, because he knows he’s that much stronger than you. He’s afraid he’ll hurt you if he even grips your hands.

And it’s exactly because he doesn’t resist that he ends up getting hurt instead. Most of the times he just blames himself though — why did he have to go and do that? He knows that will make you mad, why did he still do it? He’s the utter failure here. He should be punished. And there you have it, he takes whatever you throw at him (pots, pans, coat rack, everything, basically); gets blue and black, sometimes gashes and cuts that all heal almost instantly anyway. Funny thing is, he hates it, because he thinks it’s some sort of cheat code, that he isn’t properly punished.

“How can anything like that be healthy?” Tanizaki’s words ring in his head.

Three. When asked why he’s even with you in the first place — he hesitates. Why is it that “I love her” doesn’t come to his mind straight away? Everyone knows he’s in denial and always has been. They all know that he’s hoping for the old you to come back. The one he blames himself for coaxing out of you in the first place when in reality it isn’t on him in the slightest.

That was the last straw — that was what made him storm out of the office. Because he knows that no reason he gives now will satisfy them enough to get them off his back. And perhaps… it is for good reason. Because honest to god? He’s tired. Tired of feeling wronged every time you accuse him of having an affair when he barely bats an eye in any of their direction (not since the last time you threatened to hurt them if he even dared to talk to them). Tired of being beaten up for something he never did, when it should be your colleagues who should be taking the heat of your anger. They were the ones who made you mad, not him. And he’s tired of constantly having to dread going to work because he has to make up a thousand more excuses for you, to defend you when he knows very well you wouldn’t do the same courtesy to him.

The ring of his cellphone makes him sigh. That’s probably you again, checking up on him to make sure he’s not up to no good.

Atsushi breathes in, throwing his head back, eyes closed as the faint light of the setting sun hits his face. His fingers fumble in his pocket for his phone, and he answers it. Another deep breath.

“Look, I don’t think—”

“Weretiger?”

His eyes snap open and he checks the caller ID. Unknown. He hears a familiar voice on the other end, it’s the one who’s always with that devil incarnate, the one they called the rabid dog. What’s her name?

“It’s Higuchi.”

Oh, right.

What do they want with him now? To surrender himself, maybe? But like hell you’d let that happen.

But what the blonde says next makes the whole world around him cease to exist. Every complicated feeling, any positivity, they’re all gone and he feels like he’s in a void. Black; everything is black. His fingers are twitching, palms shaking as Higuchi finishes what she says, but she doesn’t hang up without telling him one more important thing:

“It’s all your fault!”

Not an hour later and he’s kneeling down next to your bullet-riddled body, fingers ghosting over your now blue, chapped lips. The blood pooled on the concrete stains his pants, but he doesn’t care. Because despite wanting to break up with you, he didn’t want you to die.

And especially not for him.

You did a lot of wrong in the relationship. Abusing, gaslighting, and many more. The other detectives always put it upon themselves to show Atsushi who you really are, and how unhealthy every aspect of your relationship is. They always argued about which facet of your relationship is the worst. But now, they all know they’ve come to the same conclusion. No discussion needed.

It’s in how the black circles under his eyes have grown darker. It’s in how he’s so dejected, so forlorn every single day — at least before he could still deceive himself that you were there at the end of the day to possibly make him feel better. It’s in how he’s tried too hard before, and now not trying at all.

The conclusion? The worst thing you’ve done to him? Ironically, laughably, is to have loved him right just before you ceased to see the light. Sacrificing yourself just because you didn’t want to give his location away to the enemy, even if you knew Atsushi had a high chance of surviving? Honestly, the only thing you did that everyone else agreed was done out of actual love.

But you left behind a weretiger that now blames himself for your death. Whenever anyone asked he’d say that he killed you.

They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

Atsushi used to be able to see beauty in the world; he practices it by striving to always see the good in you, in what you could be. Even if it is partial deception on his own end. But now… now he barely sees any good in any thing. Self-pity is a dangerous thing.

And somehow, by loving him right in the last moments of your life, you’ve sentenced him to an eternity of being a prisoner to his misery.

tags. @yokelish @gogolparadise @fyowyn-writes @animatedarchives

160 notes · View notes

slashscowboyboots · 3 years

Text

England’s Dreaming: The Clash (Part 2)

Part 1

I’m going to be posting a little more regularly, I hope to have a Christmas fic up sometime in the near future. Thank you for all the likes and reblogs

Tag list: @izzysdenimjacket @no-stone-no-bone @sexcoffeeandrockandroll @awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands @smokeandmirrorz @sodalitefully @roger-taylors-car @harley-m-rose @whisperess33 @shawolat @80snikki as always, if you wish to be tagged let me know

Warnings: near-fatal horniness and very deep disappointment. And no one likes doughy balls

“You're awful quiet,” Duff murmured.

It had been quite an interesting morning. Izzy had shown up fifteen minutes before his shift started, wearing a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a patch with “Izzy” embroidered over his right pec and quietly asked if he could wear that on the job. White circles swam in front of your eyes until he cleared his throat and repeated the question.

“Sure, it’s fine,” you mumbled, then put your hand over your mouth to cover a moan as you watched him lift your cakes, his shirt riding up and exposing a strip of his white stomach, contrasting vividly with his low-riding black jeans, then walk out the door.

“Relax, Y/N,” Duff said, grinning like a madman. “He'll treat your babies right. He’s got a gentle touch.”

Since drinking before 8 am was bad form, especially on the job, you opted to close yourself in the pantry, stuffing a dish towel in your mouth while you screamed.

Finally getting your heart rate down to normal, you began your day. Without Izzy’s presence, the shop seemed especially empty, and you used your time making icing and scones and mentally berating yourself.

If a man eyed a woman like that, you’d call him a pig. It’s rude to just openly stare at someone, even if they are so blatantly attractive.

You don’t have a chance with him anyway, with your preppy little sweaters and pearls. If he wasn’t your employee, he’d never even notice someone like you.

Oh yeah, did you forget that you’re his boss? And as professional as he seems, a workplace romance is not in the cards, even if Hell froze solid and he thought you were hot.

“Yoo hoo,” Duff said, waving a hand in front of your eyes. “He’ll be fine. I know the other guys left a lot to be desired, but Izzy takes his work seriously. The only reason I didn’t recommend him first is because he was already working at the flower shop.”

You looked up at him, then pursed your lips and nodded. Best to let him think it was worry and not terminal lust for your newest employee that was running on a continuous loop in your brain.

“And if I know Izz, and I like to think I do, he’ll throw himself into his work. He’s single, he’s got no constraints on his time, besides playing guitar and riding his bike. Which doesn’t run anyway.”

“He’s single?” you yelped, then the front door dinged open and the devil himself strode in the kitchen.

“Hey, I’m back,” he smiled. “Any more deliveries?”

“Well,” and your throat went dry, “you have to deliver a cake to the Martins’ birthday party at 1 o’clock. Nothing till then.”

“What can I do?”

“Uh, there’s dishes in the sink,” you peeped, pointing to them.

“Here, Izz, catch,” Duff said, and tossed him an apron. You were relieved it wasn’t your pink eyelet one, then Izzy shook it out and tied it on. “LOVE MY BUNS” was emblazoned on the front of it, and Duff threw you a wily grin.

Izzy squared his shoulders. “Y’all better love ‘em,” he deadpanned, snapping on a pair of yellow rubber gloves.

You tried not to stare at them, then concentrated on dropping food coloring in some batter. The tie dyed cupcakes you sold were selling out faster than you could make them, but Duff had an aversion to making them for some reason, so you had to create them. And what better way to keep your mind off Izzy’s spectacular buns?

That was easier said than done. You noticed Izzy’d finished his dishes, then felt him before you even looked up. He was peering into your mixing bowl, his nose nearly touching it. “What are you making?”

You jerked your head up, and his face wasn’t six inches away, his soft lips slightly parted. “These-these are tie dyed cupcakes.”

“Can I help you with them?”

“Uh, sure.” You squeezed the last of the food coloring in, then dropped the liners in the muffin pan, instructing him how to fill them three-quarters full, then he slid them in the oven.

“Thank you, Izzy. Um, do you want to help Duff make cookies?”

Duff jerked his head. “Can you get me the flour over there?”

Izzy grabbed it, and because he was wearing short black boots and not slip-resistant work shoes, slid on the slick floor, very nearly dropping it. He must’ve clenched the open bag in his hands, because a big poof of it exploded right in his face.

“Shit,” he gasped, blowing it out of his mouth.

Duff slapped the table, howling at him, and you were trying very hard not to laugh.

Izzy stuck his tongue out, coughing, and he looked so embarrassed you wanted to hug him. “Uh, yeah, I’ll be heading upstairs now. By the time I get cleaned up, it’ll be time to make my delivery.” He barked out a laugh. “I hope this doesn’t make paste when it hits water, or I’ll have dough balls. And nobody likes doughy balls.”

Duff had been grinning since Izzy went upstairs. “I think he likes it here.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because he laughed. Izzy never laughs.” He crossed his arms over his black safety-pinned t-shirt. “I told you he’d be a good fit. Hey, can I take my lunch now? I feel the need for…..pizza.”

“Sure,” you said, and on went the pimp coat. Even though he worked in a bakery, Duff had an overwhelming love for the pizza shop next door, and you swore he was working on duplicating their dough on his early shifts, unseen by you.

It was heavenly pizza, and you regretted not asking him to bring you back a slice, then the door chimed open and a stunning brunette woman with huge dark eyes walked in.

“Hi,” she said in a sultry voice, “is Izzy here?”

You shook your head, taking in her heavy eye makeup and micro skirt. She was tiny, although she was wearing a sky-high pair of stilettos. “He’s-he’s out. I can tell him you stopped by.”

“Sure. I’m Barbie.” Her red lips turned up in a smirk. “Aren’t you just precious? I love your little rubber boots.”

“Th-thank you,” you said, hoping the floor would swallow you up. Of course, this was the kind of woman Izzy would pursue, someone sexy, not a Shy Di wannabe. What worked to catch the attention of a stodgy middle-aged prince was very unlikely to work on an edgy guy like Izzy. You knew that.

And standing in front of you was living proof.

“So, anyway, tell him I came by. And here,” she threw a denim jacket on a table, “he left this in my car. Bye, little rubber boots.”

#izzy stradlin x reader #izzy stradlin fanfiction #duff mckagan fanfic #guns n roses x reader #guns n roses fanfic

40 notes · View notes

sherrybaby14 · 5 years

Text

People Can Lick Too

This is for my darling @barnesrogersvstheworld

Prompt: People Can Lick Too.

Pairing: Steve x Reader

Warnings: Serial Killer AU, Dub-con, rough sex, fem dom, choking,

Summary: You don’t realize who your night time visitor really is.

Words: 2800

“I’m telling you, it was shut when I left for work.” You walked over to the closet and braced yourself, holding out the phone as you yanked open the door and shut your eyes. “Is anyone there?”

“YES!!! It’s the killer!” Bucky’s voice carried over the phone.

“Eeek!” You started jogging in place, almost dropping Bucky who began cackling away. Your heart beat calmed down and you opened your eyes to see your coats hanging there. “Not funny.”

“Well what would I do over FaceTime anyway?” Bucky tilted his head and gave you that smug know-it-all look. “Knock the guy out with my words?”

“I know. I’m just freaked.” You walked back over to the windows in your small apartment and made sure they were locked again. “I mean, those dead girls. They sort of look like me and I swear the windows were shut.”

“You’re on the second floor. He’d have to be pretty strong to scale a brick building.” Bucky sighed. “There’s over 8 million people in New York. None of the other girls lived near you. I think you’re over reacting.”

“Still a psycho killer on the loose?” You went into your bedroom and flipped on the light, holding the phone in front of you so Bucky could scan the room.

“All clear.” He sighed. “Don’t forget to check the closet in there and under the bed, wait maybe he is hiding in the ceiling tile? Can you push those up.”

“Ceiling tile?” You glanced up at the solid plaster ceiling and rolled your eyes. “Maybe I am being dramatic. Can you just get here. Please?”

“I have to work late.” Bucky scratched his head. “The earliest I’ll get off is 2 am. Then by the time I do closing duties. The sun will practically be up.”

“So you’re not coming?” You sat on the edge of your bed.

“I didn’t say that.” Bucky’s eyes darted off camera. “I’ll be there. Just late. You can’t wait up for me.”

“But what if I want to?” You pulled your feet up, folding your knees. “It’s been over a week.”

“You are a little devil.” Bucky wiped his mouth. “But you need to relax, get some rest. How about I do that thing you like to wake you up?”

“Which thing?” You raised an eyebrow as your brain scanned the many of Bucky’s talents.

“You know, when I take your fingers in my mouth. Lap my tongue at them. Give a little suck?” Now his tongue ran across his lips sending a shiver down your spine.

“That would be a nice wake-up.”

“So relax. You’re fine. Nobody is in your apartment but you. It’s too small for anyone to hide.” Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Be a good girl and get some sleep. I have a feeling you’ll need some stamina for when I arrive.”

“You’re right.” You shook your head, the paranoia being replaced by giddiness. “Try and get out early?”

“Not going to happen Doll.” Bucky brought his fingers to his mouth and gave a lick. “Mmmm.. yours taste much better.”

“You are a tease.” You unfolded your legs and stood up from your bed. “You have your key right? I’m not leaving the door unlocked.”

“Shit. I left it at home.” Bucky ran his hands over his hair. “Leave your ringer on?”

“Fine.” You strutted to your bathroom. “If you get off early, stop and get it?”

“What happened to get there as fast as possible?” Bucky pouted.

“That was before you convinced me I needed some beauty sleep.” You giggled.

“Well you are a beauty.” Bucky’s teeth dragged across his bottom lip. “Stop distracting me. I have to get back to work. Sleep well. Get ready for a fun wake-up.”

“Have a good night at work.” You winked. “See you later.”

Bucky blew a kiss before disconnecting.

You looked in the mirror and blew a raspberry before turning on the shower, letting the room fill with steam. Thoughts of the window replaced by eagerness for Bucky’s visit. You put on a playlist at full blast as you stripped down. Planning on being extra clean for you man.

The adrenaline from this hunt was different than the others. Maybe because she was aware of the dangerous in the city, noticed the window, or that phone call with her boyfriend. She was an absolute trophy.

Steve was certain any second she was going to peek under the bed and see him laying there. Even if she didn’t have the time to let out a scream that boyfriend of hers would have called the cops. It would have been game over.

But fate was on his side. Now the noise from the shower drowned out the creak of the floorboards as he slid out from his hiding spot.

Killing one of his victims in the shower would make for easy clean up. Not that he ever needed much. He yanked his gloves down harder. His hands the preferred method. So intimate, watching as he saved them from the suffering of this world. All these women were angels and deserved to head home. He was merely a conduit.

His heart raced as he entered the small bathroom. The curtain was opaque and he got a view of her silhouette when he drew close. His heart almost stopped as all the blood rushed to his south. Exquisite. She was the best of them in more ways than one. Perfection.

For the first time since he started this project Steve hesitated. No. She had to die. Return to heaven where she belonged. He moved forward again, but she started singing along with the music. He’d never wanted one of his victims before. Not like this.

Was this a sign? She was wanting. He heard it in her voice on the phone. Maybe he was wanting too. Maybe this was the perfect set up for him to give her a better send off. One more deserving of her. Yes. That was it.

Steve snuck back out of the bathroom. The bed was too close a call. She’d already checked the hall closet. He slid inside just as the water stopped, the clicking of the door hidden by her tunes. This was good. Better. It would be a shame to let this opportunity go to waste.

Tossing and turning was an understatement. You were in and out of dreams like you had a fever. Some points you felt so cold you debated on getting out of bed and putting on clothes, but then the heat would come back and you remembered you wanted to be ready for Bucky’s arrival.

You were in a light sleep when there was a hand on your wrist, lifting it in the air. Your face turned into a smile and the problems melted away.

“I didn’t hear you.” You turned on your back, the room was pitch black, almost darker than normal. You made out his figure, but before you could comment on it he took your fingers into his mouth. “Mmmm.”

Instead of sucking on them right away he ran his tongue down them, almost lapping at your fore and middle. It was a different sensation that made you coo. You started to press into his mouth when he bit down.

“Ooo!” Your sleepiness started to vanish. “That’s new.”

He relaxed his teeth and sucked hard, moving his head back until your digits left his mouth with a pop. You stifled the giggle, not wanting to ruin the moment. Bucky spun your hand and his lips crashed against your wrist. His kiss was harder than normal. The week break must have been hard on him too.

He kissed down, your core dampening as he got closer to your body. You brought your other hand up to his shoulder and felt his bare skin. Was he naked too? That would be divine.

When he neared the top of your arm you shifted, spreading your legs so he could settle between you thighs. Skin on skin. You let out a purr as his body loomed over yours, his lips touching your neck.

You tilted your head to the side. He lapped at you, sucking the skin hard, pulling it between his teeth, until CRUNCH.

“Hey!” You shoved at him. “That hurt.”

He pulled back a little. In the darkness it was hard to make out his response.

“I mean, I don’t mind a little kink.” You rubbed your neck not wanting to ruin the mood. “But the most you’ve been into has been finger sucking. This mean you’re ready for more?”

Bucky responded with his lips. They crashed against yours with such power you fell back into the pillow. His mouth commanded yours to open and you had no desire to resist as your tongues pressed for each other.

This was new. Exciting. His hand came up and rested on your throat. You wrapped your fingers around his wrist and squeezed, wanting him to do the same. He was always so gentle with you. Finally a little roughness.

His fingers sank in and you moaned into his mouth. They pushed down hard and more of your juices gathered as a result. You tried to lift your hips, brushing your sex against his cock. He was so hard it made you whimper.

The sound made his hand vanish and body pull away.

“No.” You grabbed the back of his neck and arched your back as you sat up with him. “I won’t break. I’ll let you know what I can’t handle and you do the same.”

A growl left Bucky’s mouth as he dipped his head to your chest. You felt the roughness from his beard tickle your breast as his mouth wrapped around your nipple.

“That feels so good baby.” You ran your hands through his hair. Had he gotten it cut? Not that it mattered. “Keep going.”

His hand came to your other breast. He started kneading and pulling you to a peak. Mixed with the pulsing of his tongue on your alternate side your body felt like it was on fire. Then you felt his teeth graze and you started to pull away, but got a better idea.

“Bite and I’ll slap you.” You knew Bucky wasn’t kinky enough to try anything, why shouldn’t you play the dom? Knowing what you wanted.

But then there was a quick pressure on your sensitive bud.

“FUCK!” You shoved him away, his teeth dragging your nip with him.

The stinging pain made you bring your hand to your breast, pushing down to ease the sting.

Never one for empty threats there was no hesitation as you pulled your palm back. CRACK! The slap echoed across the pitch black room, loudened by the darkness in a way.

His chest was heaving. Stunned. It was obvious he did not know how to respond. But you, you were becoming more turned on than you ever thought possible.

You through your body forward, wrapping your arms around his neck as you smashed your chests and lips together. Now it was you in control again. Would he make another power play? You wouldn’t mind.

“Quit fucking around and fuck me.” You got the order out as you spread your legs and lifted your hips, ready for him to spear you. “NOW.”

A grunt left Bucky and this time both of his hands went to your throat. He started squeezing hard. No warm up. All the air escaped from your lungs, your eyes started to bulge. You couldn’t be certain if your vision was fading or it was just the dark room as he pushed you back into the bed.

Now this, this was what you were talking about. He thought he was strong, clever, was trying to show his power. You enjoyed how wet his control was making you and thought about letting him choke you until you passed out, but your soaking cunt had other ideas.

You straightened your palm as hard as you could and pushed your fingertips into his ribs. Finding that tender spot and digging harder. His grip started to loosen and you took in a big gasp of air.

Bucky made some unintelligible noise and you shoved harder. His body twisted and hands dropped as he went to knock yours away.

You worked his momentum against him and flipped him over so you were straddling him again.

“Nice effort.” You grabbed the base of his cock. “Appreciate the attempt. But I’ve had enough foreplay.”

As you sunk yourself down on him you couldn’t help but notice he felt bigger, you felt fuller.

“It’s like you’re a whole new person tonight.” When you settled all the way on him he was almost at your cervix. “Maybe you’re ready to experience my other side?”

Your hands ran up his chest until they got to his neck. Bucky grabbed your wrists, making them feel small in his palms, but he didn’t push you away as you started to choke him. You began to rock your body forward, dragging your clit against him as you tightened your grasp.

You knew you weren’t as strong as he was, but you could cut off some air. And the power, the control of this strong man underneath you was enough to light a fire in your body. You rocked in a wave motion, using him for your own pleasure.

“When I squeeze harder.” You applied more pressure. “Your cock gets bigger. And you like that? Don’t you?”

His head nodded. A grin covered your face as your head fell back.

“Don’t forget what you promised me baby.” You pulled one hand off his neck and shoved it into his mouth. “Be a good boy and LICK.”

You moaned as Bucky did exactly as told, worshiping your fingers, his tongue pulsing against them as he sucked in. You wondered how much he could take and started sliding the four of them down hard.

A gagging sound left his mouth and you swore you had a mini-orgasm. But that wasn’t enough. You were ready for the big one.

“You like this don’t you?” You pressed his tongue down pushing them further and harder as you picked up the pace, adding a lift to your movement, driving your clit against him and his cock into you. “Tell me I am in charge.”

An unintelligible noise left his mouth and a giggle left yours. This power, this heat. It was turning your into a mad woman with one goal. The finish.

As if Bucky could read your mind his hand went to your hips. He started thrusting up as you thrust down. Your bodies working in tandem. Your other hand went to his chest to brace yourself, letting him guide you to the release your body craved.

“Fuck!” You gripped at him, digging your nails without control. “I’m going to cum. I’m gonna cum.”

He pushed your hips down hard and started dragging your body back and forth, you clit and g-spot activated at the exact right rate. Even in the darkness you knew your vision blurred as you tumbled into ecstasy. Sparks spreading through your limbs as you fell forward.

Through the haze you felt his cock soften inside of you, your juices mixing together. You pulled your hand out of him mouth and he coughed so hard his body shook. You cuddled up to him as you climbed off, spent.

“Thank you for coming…in both ways.” The restlessness left your body as he kissed your head and grabbed your wrist, bringing your fingers to his mouth and licking them as you drifted off to sleep.

A melodic tune woke you up. Sunlight splintered in through your drapes. You felt for Bucky, but the bed was empty. You realized it was your phone and looked to see his name for a FaceTime.

“Where did you run off to?” The lazy smile stayed as you hit answer.

“Please don’t have me.” Bucky was in his apartment. “I had to stay later than I thought.”

“What?” You sat up in bed and pulled the sheet to your body. “What are you talking about?”

“But at least you got a good night sleep right?” He scratched the top of his head. “What’s on your neck? Curling iron burn?”

“There’s something on my neck?” You were out of it, but noticed a pain as you brought your hand. “Wait. I’m confused.”

“Things got hectic.” Bucky kept rambling as you got out of the bed and walked to the bathroom, eager to take a look in the mirror at what he was talking about.

You flipped on the light. The phone and bedsheet slipped from your hand as you stared ahead. Your lipstick, open in the sink.

“What’s going on? Did I lose you? Are you naked?” Bucky drifted away as the world around you spun.

Shock, fear, excitement. All you could do was read the words over and over again:

PSYCHO KILLERS CAN LICK TOO.

#steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #marvel #fanfic #fanfiction #au #serial killer au #halloween au

2K notes · View notes

girls-love-girls1200 · 4 years

Text

66. Kim Lip x Reader •Together•

This came longer than expected, hope you enjoy it

Warnings: slight mention of abuse

A locker slammed shut a few feet away, one of the guys from the swim team threw you a flirty look as he passed by, his friends hanging around him like flies, resting your head against the cool metal, you closed your eyes, trying to regain control over your thoughts, you didn’t even hear your best friend approaching until her face was an inch away from yours, dark eyes staring at you inquisitively,

“You look awful y/n jesus, weekends at your dad’s seem to be taking a toll on you.”

Picking up your backpack, you flung it over your shoulder, hitting a freshman in the face in the process, Siyeon broke out in a fit of laughter as she ruffled the poor boy’s hair before shoving him playfully, he didn’t seem to be having so much fun as scurried away without even giving you a chance to apologize, you let out a tired giggle before your eyes met with the disapproving ones of last person you wanted to see at that precise moment. Siyeon stopped in her tracks as she felt you tense up against her, but it was too late, the senior counsellor had already grabbed your arm, your best friend’s grip tightening around your other,

“Y/n, you will not avoid me any longer than you already have.”

You smiled sheepishly at the older woman who had insisted on scheduling sessions every Monday mornings with her, after having found out about your current family issues through a notice that unknowingly to you been passed to all your teachers.

“Listen Yoona, I get it, you’re young and full of passion for your job, you’re ready to help poor teens struggling with how butt ugly they are, but I do not need your help, I’m fine and more than competent to handle my emotions and my struggles on my own thanks, have a great Monday.”

Her pretty face morphed in shock at your words, shrugging her hands of your arm you made a quick b-line, dragging Siyeon behind you.

“Sarcasm and denial are not the way to deal with this y/n!”

“Ah! Lippie thank God you’re here, maybe you can talk some sense into your girlfriend.”

Her hands reached for the sides of your face, lifting it slightly so that she could get a good look at it, she immediately noticed the dark circles under your eyes, you weren’t wearing any makeup, and your lips seemed more chapped than usual, you felt your body tingle under her worried gaze, pulling away from her you glared at Siyeon who only pulled her tongue at you,

“Why? What’s wrong babe?”

She tried to pull you back towards her so that she could look into your eyes but to no avail, you resisted, grabbing onto your best friends’ arm, Jungeun’s eyebrows furrowed with concern,

“Nothing is wrong, Yoona just tried to scold me for hitting a freshman, but I manged to get away from her devil grasp just in time.”

You knew your girlfriend hadn’t bought a single word you said from the second they left your mouth, she was about to reply when by miracle Jiwoo popped up from behind her, not even greeting an of you before diving into the wild account of how her weekend went, her bubbly voice cutting through the tense atmosphere that had been previously forming. You felt Jungeun’s inquisitive stare on you all the way to class, for probably the first time in your life you were relieved of arriving at your algebra lesson, your teachers’ expressionless face welcomed you in the doorway as you scurried inside, thinking about the imminent conversation that was going to happen the next time you’d see your girlfriend.

You knew avoiding confrontation was probably the least rational choice you could make, yet you found yourself sitting alone on one of the restricted balconies on your school’s second floor, with the curtains pulled inside you knew it was impossible to see you, this had become your go to spot whenever you felt like skipping class to be on your own, nobody ever used the language lab in the morning anyways, just making it easy for you to disappear when needed.

The night before had been so chaotic you hadn’t even had a moment to prepare your lunch for today, your stomach grumbling in complaint as you nibbled on some crackers that had been in your backpack since the previous week,

Your phone lit up on your lap, as another one of the girls sent you a message, asking where you were, you were about to turn it off when a message from your best friend arrived,

From Wolfass🐺: I know where you are, I’ve told the girls you had some homework to catch up on, Lippie isn’t buying it and she keeps staring at me as if she wants me dead. I’m terrified.

Your heart swelled with love at the realization the Siyeon would always have your back no matter what, it had been that way ever since you were in your diapers, she never left your side.

To Wolfass🐺: I owe you a thousand, love you so much.

As the bell rung you made the decision on skipping literature, guilt pooling in your stomach as you imagined Jungeun’s face as she walked into the classroom without seeing you in your usual spot next to the window, so that you could look at the birdies when things got boring.

Your phone vibrating dragged you out of your self hate spiral, another missed call from your girlfriend and a new message.

From Wolfass🐺: You know I got you, but I really think you should give Miss Lim a chance, you don’t have to handle this thing on your own babes, and you’re gonna have to talk to Lip at some point, that girl loves you so much she’s on the verge of killing herself from overthinking.

You felt your muscles tense in anxiety at the thought of having to talk to Jungeun about how you were being forced to spend the weekends at your dad’s place, she knew your relationship with him was complicated to say the least, but you were also aware of how much it would pain her to know what you really had to go through.

To Lippie💘: Sorry about today babe, not feeling very well don’t worry tho I won’t miss tonight’s game, I’ll see you there and we can talk after

To Lippie💘: I love you

From Lippie💘: I’m already worried but ok

From Lippie💘: ttyl

She was not happy at all. You cursed at yourself for being so damn stupid, knowing you should have been honest with her from the beginning, and yet, your own denial had stopped you. Not being in the right head space you packed your stuff and left. Your mom was on a day shift today so you knew there would be no one at home to interrogate you on how come you weren’t at school.

The chilly spring air nipped at your cheeks, wrapping your arms around yourself you closed your eyes as Jungeun’s familiar scent enveloped your senses,

“You’re so cheesy y/n, wearing your girlfriend’s team sweater at her first game as team captain. You almost make we want to throw up…”

You shoved Siyeon so hard she almost fell off the bleacher, ignoring her curses you scanned the field anxiously until your gaze fell on a familiar head of chocolate locks, Jungeun was busy tying her hair into a tight ponytail, her eyes scanning the crowd, timed seemed to stop for a second as her nervous gaze met yours, a toothy grin plastered itself onto your features as you waved at her. Her own smile didn’t quite reach her eyes as it usually did, giving you a small nod, she lowered her head back to the ground.

Your body worked faster than your mind, quickly getting on your feet after leaving your soda with Siyeon, you bounced down the crowded bleachers, making your way to the side of the field you pushed your way through the school paper club until you reached the fence that separated you from the team. You didn’t even have to call her, in a second your girlfriend was in front of you, hands resting on the cold metal between you. Your hand reached for her cheek as you smoothly pulled her into you, her lips fit perfectly between yours, a low hum of appreciation swallowed in the kiss. Pulling away as you heard her coach calling all the players to him, you smiled warmly,

“Don’t be nervous, you’ll do great, just as usual.”

Jungeun’s cheeks tinted pink at your words, you caught her red lips in one last loving kiss before turning around, your girlfriend’s eyes never leaving your figure as you made your way back to your seat, warmth spreading through her entire body after the quick interaction. She was ready to win.

The eerie car park was almost empty by the time your girlfriend stepped into it, in a second she had spotted your figure, resting against her car, scrolling through your phone, with the last energies that remained Jungeun sprinted towards, a surprised squeal leaving escaping mouth as she lifted you into her arms.

“Well look if it isn’t miss star player herself.”

An embarrassed groan tumbled out of her lips, running her hand through her soft hair she smiled at you. There were these moments in your relationship in which neither of you had to say a word, and yet you both understood, you knew her smile meant more than she could ever even put into words, yet a shadow of concern still lurked in the corner of her eyes.

“I like seeing you in this sweater, I think it brings me good luck.”

Her long fingers toyed with the strings of your sweatshirt, slowly creeping up until they reached your chin, she pulled your face to meet her own. Again, as her lips danced with yours, you could understand exactly what she wanted to say, her fingers trailing down to your hips, suddenly you found yourself pressed against the cold metal of the car, unsure whether the goose bumps came from that or from your girlfriend’s tongue sliding against your bottom lip, almost as if she was asking for your permission. Your fingers pulled teasingly at the soft baby hairs on the back of her neck, her cold hands finding their way under your shirt eliciting a small hum of appreciation that only seemed to spur her on, her lips detached from your own before leaving a hot trace along your jawline, on your pulse point, teeth nibbled at your sensitive skin as your head tilted back in response.

Jungeun pulled away at light speed as a series of whistles and cat calls echoed through the parking lot, a few of her teammates that had obviously lagged behind could be heard laughing as they made their way to their own vehicles, your girlfriends head burying into your neck, you could only imagine the shade of crimson her cheeks had turned. Chuckling softly you caressed the back of her head before getting into the car, your fingers toyed with the heating panel for a couple of minutes, trying to ignore the unspoken words that hung in the small space, you could feel Jungeun’s eyes on you every few seconds.

“Please keep your eyes on the road, I would like to make it home alive.”

She didn’t even bother clapping back at you with some snarky comment like she usually would, her hand snaking from the gearshift to your thigh, giving a light squeeze, her gaze straight ahead, a nervous sigh fell from your lips as you focused on the trees flying past you.

“My dad won his latest custody appeal.”

You took the complete silence that followed your statement as an invite to carry on,

“Which means, I now have to spend weekends at his place.”

Jungeun slowly nodded her head as she processed the news, you took her eyebrows furrowing as a bad sign,

“Which is, as you know, the last place I ever want to be. But he convinced the judge that he is a brand-new man, three years sober and with an actual job in a garage downtown.”

The older girl seemed to know where this was heading as her fingers intertwined with yours, her thumb rubbing small circles on the back of your hand,

“Only one of those two statements is true, I’m sure you can guess which.”

As you turned into Jungeun’s driveway the car came to a stop, unfastening her seatbelt she turned to face you, her thumb reaching to wipe away a tear you didn’t even know was there.

“Y/n why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

Biting at your lip, you couldn’t seem to find a plausible answer to that very easy question, you were scared to look into her sweet eyes as the silence around you became almost suffocating.

“I’m not angry babe, I just wished you would have told me, I’m sure my mom could help us figure something out, y/n you can’t stay at that place if it isn’t safe, please, don’t do this to yourself. If something happened to you I...”

Tears started falling from your eyes as you felt the concern oozing from every pore of her body, not being able to stand seeing you like this, Jungeun pulled her seat back as you took the invitation to climb onto her lap, small sobs rattling through your body, one of her hands started rubbing comforting circles on your back, the other pulling your head even closer to her as she kissed every inch of you she could reach.

“I don’t want you to be scared y/n, I promise we’ll figure this out, together.”

#kpop scenarios #wlw #lesbian imagines #wlw scenarios #kpop trash #girl group scenarios #kpop girl groups scenarios #kpop oneshots #kpop idols #kim lip #kim lip scenario #loona #loona headcanon #loona scenarios #dreamcatcher scenarios #siyeon #chuu

149 notes · View notes

espinosaurusrexex · 4 years

Text

Hater

In which Y/N tries to convince herself that she does not have any feelings for Jeff and miserably fails.

warnings: cursing, a really bad apology (like damn I’m sorry im bad at conversing and it shows lmao)

a/n: For the really nice @ilsolee, who requested something from my Drabble List. Thank you for requesting this. I loved this concept and even played with the thought of breaking it into a series (I ended up not doing that but if you want me to next time, to make it a little longer or even more detailed, just tell me).

As always, I’m open to feedback :)

4. Right now, you’re just being really annyoing.

6. How come you’re still so stubborn, Sugar?

21. Can I kiss you?

word count: 3.8k

She hated him. She hated his dumb smirk and his overly attractive body. She hated the way he talked to her and how he didn't seem to care about people when he interacted with them. His cringy beard triggered her and the muscles on his body intimidated her. There was nothing on this man that could attract her to Jeff Wittek.

Well, those were the points. And Y/N wasn't going to change her mind about this awfully handsome man. At least she didn't want to and found herself relaxing every time she dug a little deeper to find more reasons, why she could hate him. As if him being an ex convict wasn't enough reason to keep a distance, Y/N was intrigued by slipping into his past to be a step ahead for every comment he spat her way. That way she could tell herself that, no matter what he would say to her, she knew something about him that nobody else did. And that gave her the feeling of superiority she seeked a little too often these days.

“What do you think about that, Y/N”, Jeff questioned and raised his eyebrows at her, who had yet to answer his question. There it was again: that stupid smirk. God, she wanted to smack it out of his face every time she saw it. And not the gentle way. The way that would leave a red mark in the form of her hand for several hours. Though it was really hard for her to resist that urge right now, she settled for a snarky comment instead.

“I think that right now, you're just being really annoying.” A low hush went through the room and Y/N noticed Jeff’s face scrunching up in a faked, pained one. He continued to place his hand above his heart before relieving a loud cry.

“You're so mean! Oh god, I think I have to kill myself now.” The rest of their friends laughed, which made Y/N feel quite uncomfortable.

“Bohoo, you gonna call your mom now?” Y/N scooched deeper into the cushions as she noticed how childish her behavior had been the whole day.

“Honestly, doll. If you want to upset me, you have to come up with some better roasts. That shit was weak. I feel like I’m arguing with a fifth grader.” Y/N groaned. Another thing she hated about Jeff: him calling her ‘doll’ in that dumb Jersey accent of his.

Sending a growl over to Jeff, Y/N stood up and headed towards the kitchen. She rummaged through the cabinets until she found something to snack her anger away on and proceeded to snatch a water bottle from the fridge. She sat on the counter of David’s kitchen and stared at the white tiles a little longer until she felt a hand on her shoulder and a whiff of strawberry entered the room. Carly. Honestly, Y/N didn't want to talk right now. Drowning her anger in food and tv shows seemed far more appealing to her than engaging in a discussion about her well being or a certain other person she didn't want to think about right now. She knew she had embarrassed herself. Not only today, but all the other times she would start to bicker with Jeff about the most random things.

“Hey Y/N/N…” Carly pushed herself up on the counter next to her and took a cookie from her friend's hand. She knew that Y/N didn't want to talk, but she also couldn't help but wonder what fed the deep hatred her best friend had for Jeff. A man, who had actually been pretty nice and funny to Carly during the time they had known each other. Sure, he wasn't the nicest to Y/N, but that was mainly, because her friend never had anything nice to say towards him, either. Carly would have reacted the same way, if somebody would greet her with such an attitude from day one on. She couldn't bring herself to ask Y/N, though. Knowing deep down that she probably had a good reason to behave the way she did.

A nudge ripped Y/N out of her trance. “Jeff is actually pretty nice, you know?” The platine blonde murmured while glancing back to the living room in which most of their friends gathered at the moment. Jeff shared a short glance with her before turning his attention back to the discussion that was going on.

“Carly, I’m not magically going to love that guy just because you say he’s ‘pretty nice’.” Y/N chuckled in a mocking manner and turned her head towards her best friend. “I don't like him and that’s final. I find reasons to not like him every day and that is ok. I don't have to like everybody you're friends with. If you want to hang out with a former convict, then do it, but don't expect me to join you again.”

Carly sighed before hopping down from the counter to stand between Y/N’s legs. She looked into her eyes, trying to find a hint of sorrow in them, but nothing. Not even a little bit of dishonesty glimmered in her orbs. She let her head down, shaking it in the process.

“If you say so…” Carly went back to the common area and Y/N was left to sit alone again. She stared at the ceiling for a while and then at the walls. After a couple of minutes, that got pretty boring, so she just decided to leave. She didn’t need them to have fun. And she definitely didn't need to show them how bothered she was by her friends hanging out with people that didn't appreciate her.

It had been a week since her last encounter with Jeff and Y/N couldn't help but feel pretty good about avoiding any situations regarding him. She occupied herself with paperwork and her dog, Dax. Fully ignoring the fact that she felt a little lonely inside, she watched her friends’ Snapchat stories daily. The restaurant she was working at had not been that busy the last couple days, which lead to Y/N getting off early and left to spend even more time in her Apartment, alone, with Dax, of course.

Another week went by and to say the least, Y/N was bored. Her daily routines had consisted of eating, working, and sleeping. She had finished pretty much every series existent on Netflix and there was nothing else to do. She found herself sitting on her phone again. This time, almost envying the fun her friends had without her. But she couldn’t bring herself to text them. She needed to prove it to herself and them that she didn't care if they hung out with people she didn't want around. Mainly, she needed to convince herself, but that facade began to falter with every minute that went by.

A sudden knock on her door echoed through the room and Y/N got up quickly. Too excited that something was happening, she sprinted to the door and basically ripped it open. The handle rammed into the wall and left an evident hole, but Y/N didn’t care.

“I’m done with your shit ass attitude!” Carly stormed into the apartment with heavy steps and came to a stop at the dining table. The confusion was clearly written over Y/N’s features as she watched her best friend stand in front of her with crossed arms.

“What do you mean?”

Carly scoffed. An action she had perfected over the years she had known Y/N. “I will not stop hanging out with Jeff, just because you don't like him! Accept that for God’s sake!” Her chest was heaving and Y/N had not seen her friend this furious in a very long time.

The tension between them began to rise, but Y/N wouldn't break. “Well then you have a problem, because I will not ‘hang’ with the devil himsel-” But she was cut off by the blonde.

“Jeff. It’s Jeff! You know, you could actually say his name for once! He’s a human being just like everyone else. And it's not fair that you treat him like shit just because of his background. I didn't think that I was friends with a person that is so selfish and shallow that they would reject people based on the things that happened in the past. We all know what he did! And it's not like he is a killer or psychopath! Especially the people in our group of friends should be able to rely on each other and not be scared that there will be talking behind their back. Because you know what?! That’s exactly what happened with Trisha and now everyone hates her! Do you want that?! Then just say it because I need to know!”

Her words were like a wake up call. One that hit deep in the gut and spread through the body in hives of pain until it reached the brain and it could actually register what had just been said. Y/N trained her eyes on the floor. If Carly put it that way, it did sound like Y/N had grown into a horrible person. A person, she most certainly didn't want to be. Not in her or anyone else’s eyes. It pained her to see, how wrecked her friend got by the thought of Y/N being like the person Carly had described seconds before.

“Y/N! Fuck! Say something! … God damn it, I need by best friend back and I need to know if she’s still here.”

With that, Y/N couldn't hold it anymore. A loud sob escaped her lungs and the tears followed soon after.

“I’m so sorry, Carly.” , she sobbed as she tried to stop the tears from falling, “I’m so sorry, I’m a horrible person…”

Through blurry eyes Y/N could see her friend trying to prevent some tears from falling as well, but she kept quiet. Waiting for an explanation on her end.

“I don’t hate him. I don't hate him for his past or his humor I don't hate him at all. God why is this so hard?!” Y/N kept wiping away the salty wetness on her cheeks and proceeded to talk. “I just thought that… if I told myself that I didn't like him, I would believe myself, eventually. I don't care if he went to jail or prison or whatever. I don't care at all… I just wanted to protect myself and I guess, I went a little too far…”

Silence. It was crushing and if silence had a sound in this second, it would have been something that would make your ears explode. Carly knew, what her best friend meant when she said ‘she wanted to protect herself’. It had been a secret between the two of them, but Y/N didn't exactly have the best relationships in the past. In fact, Y/N and her ex-boyfriends all ended on bad terms. And it had taken at least three month and about five pounds of ice cream or chocolate to make her leave the house again, every time. Y/N didn't seem like it, because of her sassy attitude, but she got attached too quickly and fell way too hard. Carly should have suspected it, seeing that Jeff checked pretty much all of the boxes Y/N’s ex’s did, too. She felt regret rushing through her for throwing those words at her, but she was fairly desperate herself, being without her best friend for over two weeks. They had both been too stubborn to text each other and now they saw what it did to them. They were both devastated and exhausted. It didn't do anyone any good if those two were not together at least once a day.

“You have to tell him.” Carly spoke after ten minutes of remaining silent.

This made Y/N snap her head up again. “I can’t! Not after everything, I have said to him!” Her eyes were wide in shock and she stepped closer to the blonde girl leaning on her table. “Besides, we both know that the last weeks were just foreshadowing of what would happen if Jeff and I would… “ She didn't speak any further, noticing that she had actually said his name out loud for the first time.

“Well, you have to at least say something to him! Apologize. Because whatever is happening right now, is just childish.”

Carly was right. Y/N hated when her friend was right. And even though it was probably going to be more embarrassing than her fist time, she knew that she had to talk to Jeff.

Believing that nothing would change her mind about said man was probably a stupid thing to do. To say she was nervous to talk to somebody, she had spent the past year insulting, even more so. The whole time, she was so focused on his background and things magazines and haters wrote about him, she had never even considered to investigate further into his personality. Not that she had thought it was going to be any better than her assumptions, anyway. Though, she never had a friendly conversation with him, she had to admit that she had always been the one starting the snappy comments and he probably just followed along.

With that in mind, Y/N stood at a balck door with the number 703 printed on it in gold. How was she going to approach this? She didn't know, either. But she knew that she had to fix it somehow. Y/N wasn't a bad person after all and seeing that she had the opportunity to at least try and fix things, cleared her conscious a little.

She knocked on the door gently, secretly praying that noone was home and she could just push this event to another day, but her hopes were shattered after a few seconds. The door opened and behind it was the man himself. Shirtless, of course. He had a toothbrush in his right hand and was holding the door open with the other. The light from the window behind him made his body glow in a sunrise-orange tone and Y/N had to scold herself for comparing him to an image of Adonis right there. His questioning facial expression changed to a cocky one as soon as he registered who had been interrupting his morning routine on this day and he moved his body to the side to motion for her to come in. Y/N followed his demands, inspecting his home. Even though she had known him for several months now, she had never even seen his apartment complex before. And looking at the plane walls surrounding rooms that were provided with a minimum of furniture, she decided that she had not missed out on anything. It was the typical man cave. With its lack of decoration and the fminine touch that made every home a home, it appeared rather unwelcoming and cool to her.

Jeff returned from the bathroom without the toothbrush and went to the fridge to get some water.

“What did I earn your company with on this fine morning?” Jeff cocked an eyebrow at the woman standing in his living room. It was pretty relaxing that she had not started this morning with an argument and Jeff didn't know it yet, but Y/N was about to surprise him for the second time today.

With that, Y/N turned to him and took his body in one more time before shrugging her shoulders and continuing to look around his apartment. The apology she had planned was weighing on her chest, but now that she was actually standing here with him, alone, she didn't know if ‘I like your shirt’ was the best entry into this conversation. Apart from the fact that he was not even wearing a shirt, it was the best Y/N had come up with for an icebreaker.

She noticed some dog toys on the floor and decided to settle with that for the start.

“I Have a dog, too.” Y/N motioned to the water bowl next to her and forced a smile on her face to try and hide the humiliation that spilled over her in a giant wave.

Jeff looked into her eyes intently and answered with a frozen expression. “Yeah mine died last week.”

“Oh.” ‘I like your shirt’ suddenly seemd a lot less stupid. Y/N escaped a nervous laugh as she tried to come up with something to say, but Jeff just chuckled after noticing her puzzled expression.

“Just kidding, Nerf’s at the groomers.” A rush of adrenaline filled Y/N veins by those words. He was a dick, but she had to get this over with, somehow. Otherwise, Carly would whoop her ass and send her back to his door, right after and Y/n was not planning on this event to happen.

“Why don't you just tell me something you hate about this place and we take our separate path’s again?” Jeff was serious. He couldn't figure out, why she was here, or what she could possibly want from him, other than a battle of words, he would win anyways. So when Y/N fell silent again, he couldn't help but wonder if this was about something bigger than just another snarky comment.

“No.” Y/N looked away. Too big was the embarrassment she would face in the next minutes, if she was really going through with her plan of apologizing.

They had come so far already, not being caught up in an argument about something inconsequential for the whole time they were in his apartment and jeff could sense the conflict in her mind from a mile away. He was a pretty good liar himself and that subconsciously helped him to read people fairly well.

“How come you’re still so stubborn, Sugar?” A smirk snugg onto his face, again while he approached her from behind, trying to turn her focus to him.

Y/N had shivers running down her spine with those words. There was no denying, anymore. Jeff was an attractive man, but the fact that he knew it, gave her enough reason to not let him know how she felt about him. It was tough, and seeing that he had a dog, left her wondering if there weren't many more things they had in common.

She turned around and stared up at him. Jeff was dangerously close to her, but Y/N did not attempt to increase the distance between them. It was uncomfortable to say the least, but the things she would say next were uncomfortable, too. Where was the point in changing anything about their current situation when she knew that it only got worse from here on? Exactly, there was none.

“What I’ve been meaning to say is that… I’m sorry. I have been mean to your for the sake of keeping you off my mind and it didn't even work. I just started beef with you, because I was scared. I was scared to face the fact that you are a pretty nice guy and on top of that someone I could actually fall for. You have been nothing but nice to all of my friends and even me. That is, until I started to open my stupid mouth. I’m incredibly sorry, Jeff. I hope you know that everything I said to you was not to be taken seriously. And that I’m not mad at you for the things you said to me. I honestly think, I deserve for those to be tattooed on my forehead for my shitty behavior. I’m… ugh… I’m just sorry and I hope that we can start over. I would love to be your friend if you want that, too. Though, I would understand if you don’t. I’m sorry, I truly am.”

That was a much needed release of pressure, which was crushing Y/N’s soul with every second she had to hold it in. The hardest part was over. Now, she just had to deal with the consequences. And those were something Y/N surely did not expect.

“Can I kiss you?”, was all he said as he searched for her eyes in the glimmer of the morning sun rising outside his windows.

A shocked expression covered her face. She had just overcome the most embarrassing thing she could imagine and Jeff had totally ignored her. Rude.

“What?”

Jeff chuckled. “It's just, what you just said was pretty hot and I would just like to kiss you right now.”

Noone had ever initiated a kiss this casually and Y/N didn't care anymore at this point. She knew that the second Carly had told her to talk to Jeff, her mission of protecting herself from him and the eventual heartbreak, would be cancelled. And she was a 100% right.

“I guess I have a thing for people apologizing. Especially if they are as pretty as you.” Y/N shivered. That was, in a weird way, the sweetest thing she had heard in a long time and she couldn't help but nod her head ‘yes’.

Jeff didn't hesitate for another second. Too strong was the longing he had felt for her from the second she introduced herself to him months ago. He pushed his lips against hers, forcing her to stand on her tippy toes and locking her hands on his shoulders for support. They shared a closed mouth kiss for a couple of seconds before Jeff grabbed the back of her head with one hand. The other sneaking down her spine and stopping at the small of her back to push her even closer to him. A small whimper escaped Y/N’s lips and Jeff took that opportunity to slide his tongue in her mouth to french kiss. He explored her mouth, not leaving one corner untouched or unappreciated. Jeff was good at it. He was so good at it that Y/N just let herself fall into the kiss and let him take the lead, not even ringing his tongue for dominance. After a couple of seconds, she snuck her hands up his neck and buried her fingers into the buzzed hair on the back of his head. The stubbles tingled her skin and she just melted farther into his body.

They broke apart after what felt like hours. Both panting, they looked at each other still wrapped into one another. There was a comfortable silence and tension between the two of them that was buzzing in their heads like electricity.

“You know, I always liked you, Y/N. I knew you would drop your act, eventually and just be mine.” Jeff grinned down to her, knowing he had finally won her over.

“Keep up that attitude and I can't promise anything.” Y/N smiled, too. She was willing to see where this was going, but for now she would just live in the moment and enjoy the time, in which no one gave her a reason to worry about anything. Especially not Jeff.

319 notes · View notes

cirrius-akiyo · 4 years

Link

Chapters: 3/3 Fandom: 9-1-1 (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz Characters: Evan "Buck" Buckley, Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Henrietta "Hen" Wilson, Christopher Diaz (9-1-1 TV) Additional Tags: Domestic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Fluff, Married Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz, Established Relationship, Bury me with all my grammatical errors, Not Beta Read, Songfic, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Fluff and Smut, Explicit Sexual Content Series: Part 4 of Love in the Dark Summary:

Buck is going to fight for their love. Sugar, sprinkles and all.

[Finally we reach to the final chapter of the fourth installment ;) Thank you all :)]

Salvation of a Sinner

Eddie can smell his husband first before seeing him when he wakes up that morning. Buck smells like warm sugar and chocolate, with a hint of whipped vanilla.

For the last two and half days, Buck and Chris have been experimenting with the baked goods they supposed to prepare for the upcoming Bake Sale. Chris was quite indecisive and Buck having all the time on his hand now, decided to indulge their son and to try and see what came out the best.

The baked goods were then brought to the 118 with voting papers attached. The station actually looked brighter the moment Buck stepped inside with Carla in tow, all smiles and radiant. Eddie could see the small tension in Buck's shoulder melted away when he chanced a glance towards the locker, seeing his nameplate and gears were still there, loyally waiting for the owner to return.

Eddie himself can't wait for his husband to be cleared for duty, but presently, he needs to get ready for work, which will be long and arduous without Buck besides him.

He shifts towards Buck who is still very much asleep, marveling at the view of the peaceful features. Warm breath puffing in small huff from the parted mouth and Eddie can't resist but to lean down and kiss the edge of the red pouty lips. Buck scrunches his face when Eddie's morning stubble scratches his nose.

"Good morning, sweetheart." Eddie nuzzles into his husband's cheek, deliberately scratching the skin with his stubble knowing that will goad Buck awake.

"Ugh, go away you scratchy devil." Buck croaks, voice thick with sleep as he tries to push Eddie away before snuggling deeper into his pillow.

"Well husband of mine, do I need to remind you that you got 300 batch of Krispy treats and brownies to make today?" Eddie proceeds to scratch Buck's tousled bedhead, feeling the soft hair there, which only cause Buck to melt further in content.

"It's Rainbow Rice Krispies Treats and Cookies-and-Cream Oreo Fudge Brownies." Buck sasses. Those two got the highest vote from 118, much to Chris' delight. Despite being indecisive, Buck knew Chris was leaning towards the two, so if Buck rigged the votes just to give Chris some sense of validation, their son doesn't have to know.

"Which will not get done by themselves, fancy name or not." Eddie sasses back.

"Urgh, you’re so mean." Buck whines while stretching his elongated body like a cat. "Why can't you stay home and help me bake 'em?" Buck then plops his head into Eddie's lap, smacking his face into his husband's stomach, teasingly blowing raspberries like he usually does with Chris.

Eddie just chuckles, reminding himself how much he loves this man not to smack his arse away.

"Because you know I can't bake shit and I don't want to get my feelings hurt when you kick me out of the kitchen later. And also, why I already enlisted Carla's and Abuela's help." Eddie replies.

"You don't have to do that, you know. I can manage myself." Buck curls his hands around Eddie's waist, content with the warmth there.

"And risk Abuela killing me? No thanks." Eddie quips back. He swears even before they got married, Buck is already Abuela's favourite grandson. The man is charming, Eddie can't compete with that. But most of all, Buck is still prone to exhaustion and dizziness. Eddie sometimes caught him trying to steady himself once in a while, and while that obviously worries him, Eddie doesn't want to be condescending or patronising to Buck. Buck will hate him if he was to be treated like an invalid.

His hand then slowly travels to Buck's lower back, nearing the edge of his sweatpants and start to trace meaningless pattern there which only cause Buck to shudder with anticipation.

"Don't start something you can't finish, husband." Buck warns, breathing slightly hitched. He is not to be left alone in wanton if Eddie decides to rile him up before leaving him unsated.

"Who said I can't finish them?" Eddie smirks, bowing down to meet Buck's lips before kissing him causing Buck to grin in delight like a Cheshire cat.

"Prove it." Buck challenges.

Later, Eddie will find himself rushing through their front door trying to get to work on time, but not before leaving a very satiated husband in his wake.

///

Evan: The treats are almost done! >_< *image attached*

Eddie: They look fantastic, sweetheart! Good job! :)

Evan: But this treat *image attached* is far from being done. ;)

Eddie chokes on his freshly brewed afternoon coffee. One moment he was looking at arrays of fancy looking brownies and Krispies Treats cooling on their respective trays, then another moment he was staring at his half-naked husband, covered only in the “Lick the Spoon” apron. Buck was standing against the kitchen counter, flaunting his miles long leg with one hand teasing the gap between the thin material of the apron and the milky skin while licking a chocolate covered spatula held by the other hand. Some chocolate even dripping onto his bare chest. How did he even manage to snap this picture?

Eddie: R you crazy? Carla might see you! Or Abuela or Chris!

Eddie swears he never type that fast in his life before. He’s anxious, slightly furious, nobody is going to tell him otherwise, but he’s still saving the picture for you know, record purposes. But Eddie really wants to save Abuela, Carla and Chris from the nightmare of catching Buck sauntering around in their house naked.

Evan: Why? This treat isn’t that inviting? :(

Eddie: Evan, NO. =_=

Evan: Mean. :(

Eddie puts away his phone, determines to finish up his coffee before another alarm rings. They were having back to back medical calls all morning, so a quiet afternoon is very much appreciated.

When he is halfway through his cup, his phone vibrates again. Eddie rolls his eyes, expecting another antic of Buck sulking.

Evan: How about now? *image attached*

Eddie sputters, immediately stands up and fled downstairs while muttering furious curses under his breath, leaving a very confused Hen and Chim who are throwing each other silent glances, wondering what’s going on with the man.

“What’s up with him?” Chim whispers underneath his magazine. Hen shrugs. “Maybe a stir-crazy Buck is driving his husband out of his mind again.” Chim scoffs. “Glad I’m married to the other Buckley.” Hen smirks deviously. “Don’t be so sure. She’s still early in her pregnancy. Wait until she’s big and swollen, then we can have this conversation again.” She pats his shoulder before standing up to fix her own cup of coffee, leaving a very rattled looking Chim.

Safe in the deepest part of the storage room where nobody can take a peek on his phone screen, Eddie dares to open again the last image Buck has sent to him, slowly releasing his breath that he doesn’t even notice he’s holding. Eddie emits a strangling noise once the image popped up.

Buck is in their bedroom, grinning widely at the mirror while still wearing the damn apron. Only now his bare ass is on full display, with little to nothing left for imagination saves only with the ribbon-loop of the apron loosely tied on his waist.

Buck flaunts his body in a way that he definitely knows is able to wake Eddie’s primal desire and he can’t risk gawking upon the picture in the common area. He has a reputation to hold, a man of principle that is not easily swayed by his sexy and charming husband.

Eddie: Goddammit Evan! I’m at work. >:(

Evan: See you at home, husband. :)

Evan Buckley-Diaz is a menace and a chaos, but Eddie loves him anyway.

///

Later when Eddie return to a quiet home, his mouth water for totally different reason. Buck is no longer in the skimpy apron. Instead he found his husband sleeping on the couch engulfed in Eddie's LAFD hoodie and a very short shorts. Booty shorts short. His bubble butts perfectly filled them in, and it took greater self-restrain than Eddie initially thought he needed to stop himself from groping that ass, hard. From the look of it, Eddie dares to say Buck is trying to entice him when he comes home that night but finally succumb to the grip of sleep.

If Eddie didn't notice how tired Buck looks, Eddie would have him ravished there and then, consequences be damned. Plus, his husband has been riling him all over at work, but Eddie is a sensible man who thinks with his brain and not his dick, and his brain is telling him Buck needs his rest and sleep.

"Let's get you to bed, sweetheart." Eddie pulls Buck hand, trying to tug him into sitting up after he switches off the TV that is still flickering at the background.

"Carry me." Buck whines adorably, now hunching forward into Eddie’s tummy, still half-asleep.

Eddie scratches Buck's scalp before scooping him up in bridal carry. Buck has gained some of the lost weight, but he's still far along from bulking up to how he was before. At least his face is less gaunt, and he has more definition in his cheeks now.

Eddie peeks inside Chris’ room when they passed his slightly ajar door.

"Are you ready for tomorrow?" Eddie asks once Buck is safely deposited onto their bed. He then drags their duvet to tuck his husband in and fluffing his pillow up, pleased to see how content Buck looks.

"Em hmm." Buck replies albeit inarticulately.

"You're sure you don't need any of us accompanying you? Might be a lil bit late for me to opt out from work, but Carla and Abuela would be glad to do so. I can even cash my shift change with John tomorrow morning." Changing into his night wear, Eddie makes his way to the bathroom to wash up, keeping the door ajar. He already showers at the station beforehand so that he doesn't disturb Buck in case he's already asleep.

"Chris will be there." Buck replies while shifting on the bed to face the bathroom door.

"Chris doesn't count, sweetheart." Eddie leans on the doorframe with toothbrush still in hand.

"Just help me load them into the jeep first thing tomorrow morning and we're good." Buck half mumbles.

"Mmm." Eddie agrees, mouth full of toothpaste. “Are you sure?” He continues after spitting out the foam.

“Positive, Eddie. Now can you come in here faster. I’m cold. Need my human-radiator.”

Finishing up, Eddie proceeds to slide in under the duvet, shutting off the night lamp before pulling Buck into his embrace.

"Alright, your human-radiator is at full service. Go to sleep now. I love you." Eddie whispers to the crown of Buck's tousled head, soft curls tingling his nose.

"I love you more. Sex me." Buck starts to trace lazy patterns on Eddie's abs, nearing more to his happy trails, while trying to grind his groin with Eddie’s thigh together albeit weakly. The thin material of his booty short definitely doesn’t help Eddie’s cause here. While that is very inviting, he doesn't want them to make another hospital trip with Buck in tow. Eddie doesn’t want to be answerable to any of their family and friends as to why Buck is admitted again. Dying by being dicked.

"You're tired. I'll sex you up tomorrow morning if you up to it." Eddie swiftly catches Buck's wandering hand, immediately stopping the man from cupping his dick. If his half-hard dick has eyes, they would be giving Eddie stink eyes at the lost of sensation.

Buck seems to contemplate on the idea. "Sex me up good?" He finally concedes. Buck does feel tired. Exhausted really. If Carla and Abuela didn't help, he's positive Eddie might be coming home to him passed out on the kitchen floor.

Buck feels Eddie's lips pressed against his temple before Eddie brings Buck’s wandering hand up onto his mouth, pressing a kiss to the knuckles.

"The best."

"Promises, promises."

Eddie can feel Buck relax in his hold and melted against his chest. A beat after that, Buck is already snoring softly. While Eddie feels like the weight of the day lifted from his shoulder, the weight of his husband pressing against him grounding him in a very comforting manner. Before long, Eddie finds himself drowsy and sleep comes peacefully to him.

"I thank God for everything

That you showed me, that you showed me, yeah

And I thank God for everything

That you showed me, that you showed me"

///

Buck is not a stranger at Christopher’s school events. Even before they got married, Buck had attended few show-and-tells, few plays and some projects exhibitions. However, when it comes to anything related to Chris’ English Class, Buck tends to avoid them like a plague, worried to collide with one Ana Flores. Buck is a firm believer that no confrontation is the best defense.

Ana Flores who is smart, pretty, lovely and everything nice. Ana Flores who had made Eddie acting like a fool the very first time he met her.

Ana Flores whom in Buck’s drug induced dream, smiling in their annual family Christmas card, who stands beside Eddie on Christopher’s graduation day, who sits at the front row when Christopher standing at the altar, waiting for his spouse-to-be.

So, what if Buck feels threaten by another woman. Hen said his feeling of insecurity is valid when Buck turned to her one day. Even though Ana now is not Chris’ teacher anymore, she is still the teacher responsible for special education kids. So, it was not surprising when Eddie bumped into her during the last parents-teacher meeting that eventually had led to all this mess.

Buck has forgiven Eddie and they’re past that. Even if Eddie still find it hard to believe it, Buck honestly doesn’t hold any anger, what’s more any resentment towards his husband. Eddie has confessed right after he got home that night, and ever since has been trying so hard to make amends. True, the doubt on his self-worth seems to be amplified, but Eddie keep proving to him repeatedly after the aneurysm to not be. Buck takes that as a win.

As for Ana Flores, Buck is not sure about his feeling towards the teacher. It’s not mere resentment, not bitter, not anger but more like insecurity and apprehension. Ana is everything that Buck isn’t. Specifically, Ana has something Buck will never have. A womb. The ability to carry a child. Eddie has created wonderful Christopher with Shannon before. What does Buck have to offer?

And now Buck is sweating buckets under his Henley. Even though Eddie had kept his promise and sexed him up good first thing this morning, they did nothing to calm his nerves when he starts up his jeep.

Buck knows he had come out strong to Eddie, saying he would be fine. But the truth is, he is a nervous wreck. Now Buck is starting to regret denying Eddie’s offer to come along, quoting that the team is already one man down and he did not want to impose Abuela or Carla any more than needed.

Chris is excited, ecstatic to sell the sweet goodness they have baked, and Buck doesn’t want to crash his enthusiasm by being a coward.

So here is Buck standing his ground and staking his claim, fully armored with all the sugary sweetness and one marvelous son (and a slight aching bum).

Arriving at the school, a volunteer leads them towards the registration counter where a teacher is attending eager students and equally eager parents as to their respective booth.

What is the chance that the teacher happens to be none other than Ms. Ana Flores? Well, the chance apparently is 100% for Buck because sitting at the counter, is the Ana Flores, wearing a daffodil hued blouse and sky-blue skirts. There is no denying it, she does look pretty, hair all swaying in the breeze.

Before Buck can collect his nerve, Chris has trudges forward like a man with mission. Well, they do have a mission if 300 brownies and Krispy Treats is anything to go by.

“He - Hello, Ms. Flores.” Chris strides his way towards the teacher, who later smiles brightly upon seeing the little man.

“Hello, Christopher. Are you ready to sell?” Ana greets back, now shifting her whole attention to Chris after another teacher took her place to assist other participants.

“Yeah. We baked – lots – and lots and we gonna sell lots – and lots.” Chris cheers enthusiastically. Watching Chris interacting with his (former?) teacher, Buck has since regains his confidence. You got this, Buck!

Ana looks up and saw Buck, and Buck smiles his thousand-megawatt smile, one that he used to throw around at the crowd of young spectators during their rescue. One that had made Eddie extremely jealous when a young man slipped his phone number into Buck’s pocket after saving his roommate. Here goes nothing.

Buck can’t help to notice Ana’s smile falters a bit after seeing him. Does she had hope Eddie will be the one coming? Alright, time to mark your territory, Buck. Buck braves forward, approaching the two.

“Hi, I’m Buck. I think we have met before.” Buck offers a handshake, still wearing the crowd-pleaser smile of his.

Ana seems to be pulled out from her stupor. “Yeah. Yes. I’m Ana. Umm, yes, we have met before, but we didn’t really introduce ourselves. I’m sorry, I was actually expecting Mr. Diaz. Christopher said his dad will be coming for this Bake Sale.” She replied cautiously while shaking Buck’s hand.

Buck raises his eyebrows. Huh. Cutting straight to the chase, won’t we?

But before Buck is able to open his mouth to cut Ana down a size, Chris chimes in, “Buck – Buck is my other – father, Ms. Flores. He is – my Pops.”

If anything, Buck leers wider. Take that Miss. Oh, Chris is up for a good treat this weekend. “Yeah, the name is Evan Buckley-Diaz, but people usually call me Buck. Eddie is my husband. Technically, I am the other Mr. Diaz. Is there a problem, Ms. Flores?” Buck asks while batting his eyelashes, eyes never leaving Ana’s, feigning innocence rivaling Chris’.

The moment Buck introduced himself, Ana suddenly freezes, breaking the eye contact first. Buck too, freezes because Ana froze, does that make sense? Buck can feel the electrifying tension in the air during the beat of silence between them.

What Buck does not expect is for Ana to blush. “I... well...I am,” Ana is gaping like a fish, trying to collect herself. While Chris giggles as if Ana has grown another set of head, now Buck genuinely pities her. Did he come in too strong? The momentary triumph he felt few minutes ago slowly ebbed out of him. Shaming Ana in public has never been in his plan, because Buck still remember being publicly humiliated after that poor man stole his identity to catfish unsuspecting women.

“Well, Mr Buckley...Diaz...,” Ana stammers.

“Just Buck, please.” Buck offers sympathetically.

“Well, Buck...” Now she is stumbling with the checklist, flipping through the names and stops at ‘E.B.Diaz’ written beside ‘Christopher D. B. Diaz’, oh, ooh, oooh, “your booth’s number is 29. You can unload your goods at the main entryway. Another volunteer will guide you to your booth and help you with the loads.” Ana finally gets her act together, switching into more professional demeanor, albeit a bit tensed.

“Thank you, Ms. Flores.” Buck simply said.

“Sure.” She nods ardently.

“Let’s – g – go Pops. The brow – brownies will get hot in – in the car.” Chris is already tugging Buck to move, blissfully unaware of the tension rising between the two adults.

///

When Ana sets her eyes onto one Edmundo Diaz for the first time, she knew she likes him. After knowing that Eddie's wife is out of picture long time ago, she knew she got a chance. Gathering information from Christopher’s stories, Ana collected that Eddie never tried to date again. The only constant is this guy named Buck whom according to Chris is his and his father's best friend. Chris incorporates Buck into every family-related project or homework.

She saw Buck a few times, picking up Chris from school, and even attended the school play and science fair. Tall, buff, and handsome, but she already got her eyes fixed on Mr. Diaz.

Now that Christopher is not in her class anymore, she finally made her move to convey her feeling to Mr. Diaz. She thought she would be more articulate, but she ended up jump straight to kissing Mr. Diaz after the parent-teacher conference. Which she admits, not her finesse moment, but before she can deepen the kiss, Mr. Diaz pulled back before cursing in long succession of Spanish and English. The man literally dashed across the hallway faster than the school’s track and field’s athlete. Did she feel humiliated? Yes. Will she give up? Absolutely not.

So, Ana waited for her chance to talk to Mr. Diaz privately.

But her chance never came afterwards. Later, she learnt that Buck was in hospital, which might explain the reason Christopher has been skipping schools for few days here and there.

But now, with the Bake Sale is coming, Ana sure her chance is finally here. Chris had confirmed that his father will be joining the Bake Sale and Ana can't wait. She wore her best outfit, dressed to the nine and even had her hair and nails done.

Then Ana met Buck instead of Mr. Diaz, who appears to be the one accompanying Christopher for the Bake Sale. He’s thinner than the last time Ana saw him, but otherwise looked healthy. Oh wait, scratch that. Evan Buckley-Diaz. E.B. Diaz. The E.B. Diaz. And Ana never had wished so hard upon a star for a hole to suddenly swallow her into the deepest pit, never to come up back again. Let her be buried in shame and disgrace.

///

After a very successful sale at the Bake Sale this morning, Buck and Chris return to their home with heads held high, clearly pleased with the outcome. Buck just earns himself the right to gloat to Eddie for the rest of his life. Despite he can see that Ana was actively avoiding their way, Buck didn’t allow it to bother him. What’s important is that Chris is happy, and he had stood his ground, introducing himself as Chris’ other official parent.

What he doesn’t expect is for Ana Flores to stand before their front door that late afternoon.

“I kissed Eddie.” She promptly blurts out.

Now Buck senses like he is experiencing some kind of deja vu.

///

Ana Flores might be a determined woman, but a home wrecker she is not. If confessing her sin is what needed so she can sleep at night, so be it.

And that's how she finds herself standing in front of the Diaz, no, Buckley-Diaz residence, late in the afternoon after the Bake Sale. Mrs. Dolores had given her some serious side eyes when she skipped the cleaning duty, citing family emergency. Well, technically this is an emergency. A family might be torn apart because she did something stupid.

She has drafted a perfect apology speech during her drive to the couple’s residence, but every word flew away the moment Buck opened the front door. “I kissed Eddie.” She blurts out, as finesse as the first time she kissed Mr. Diaz.

She nervously waits for the impending yells, or even slaps, but they never come. Instead she finds Buck doubling over, laughing his heart out. Now she is even more confused than the first time she discovered Mr. Diaz has remarried. Has another of his aneurysm popped?

“Mr. Buckley-Diaz…?” She inquiries, genuinely concern as to Buck’s health.

“I’m sorry. One moment. Oh, and just Buck, please.” Buck gathers his breath, some small chuckles escaping him.

“Mr. Buckley, please… I am so sorry.” Ana pleads, guilty etched on her sullen face.

“It’s okay. I gather that you didn’t know?” Buck asks back. From her demeanor after Chris dropped the bomb, she looked completely blindsided. Buck couldn’t possibly hold that against her.

Ana nodded furiously. “If I had known, I would never… I swear.”

“I believe you.”

///

The smell of rich chocolate still wafts sweetly through the front door when Eddie returns home that evening. He immediately feels at ease the moment he steps into their little house.

“I’m home.” He calls out to his family whose laughter could be heard emanating from the kitchen. To be honest, Eddie has been slightly on edge about the day, and Buck doesn’t really give him much update except from “it’s great” and “see you at home later”.

“Welcome home!” He hears Buck replies (yells) back to him.

Eddie quickly makes his way towards the kitchen. The dinner table is full of the duo’s bounties today. Chris must have convinced Buck to try everything out and Buck must have been indulging their son endlessly.

“How does it go?” Eddie questions tentatively, rounding his way to hug Buck who is sitting beside Chris.

Buck cheekily shows him the stacks of empty trays sitting by sink, waiting to be cleaned by none other than Eddie himself. Eddie can see how Chris’ and Buck’s eyes glimmers and wide grins spread across their faces, both vibrating in eagerness.

Something crossed on to his mind. “Did you guys sell everything?” Eddie exaggerates his surprise, pleased to see how both are smiling even brighter.

“Y – yes – Daddy.” Chris nods keenly, Eddie worries his neck might hurt.

“Good job big man!” Eddie throws a high five.

From the side of his eyes, he can see Buck pouting. “How about me?”

“Well, you did a good job baking, but I am sure Chris here is the selling point.” Eddie smirks teasingly.

Buck huffs. “Well, then please do a good job cleaning up those trays. Abuela wants them to be shiny when we return them later.” Buck quips before walking away with Chris in tow, ready to turn for the night.

///

Buck returns to the kitchen after finishing tucking Chris in.

“He’s asleep?” Eddie asks from the sink, still trying to scrape away the residues that somehow leaked from the baking paper.

“Not even reaching another page of the book.” Now they are on the first one of the Diary of the Wimpy Kid series. Buck then leans against the counter beside Eddie who is still struggling with the mess.

Eddie hums, still focusing hard to scrape the gooey madness that somehow refuse to go away.

“You only answered part of my question just now. How does it go?” Eddie turns towards his husband, already given up on the trays.

Oh.

“Peculiar yet funny things happened, you won’t even believe me.” Buck provides while hands pulling Eddie closer to him.

Eddie’s eyebrows crease in confusion. “Dare to enlighten me?” His hands in turn snakes around Buck’s waist.

“Ana doesn’t know that we are married. Never know that you remarried. Thought E.B. Diaz is Edmundo B. Diaz, Not Evan Buckley-Diaz. Plus, Chris had graduated from her class when we got married, so she doesn’t really get the notice.” Buck explains, patiently waiting for Eddie to wrap his head on the story.

At that very moment, Eddie’s worldview just cleared up even more. Huh.

“Evan, I…” Eddie suddenly sounded a little bit on edge. If Ana didn’t know, then the burden of the guilt shifted onto him totally. Eddie only have himself to blame.

Sensing the tensing in Eddie’s voice and the way he is trying to free himself from their intertwined limbs, Buck just embraced him tighter and start swaying their bodies to the invisible rhythm.

“We’re past all that, Eddie. You didn’t know that she didn’t know. Plus, from what I gather, she’s the one who kissed you first, and you didn’t act upon it. This was all a huge misunderstanding. I love you, Eddie. I love our family. Nothing can take that from me, from you, from us, aneurysm or not. You need to forgive yourself, Eddie.” Buck says intently, sincerity and adoration clear in his bright eyes.

Eddie never thought he can fall deeper in love with Buck, but he does. He whole being just fall in love even more with the man standing in his embrace. Buck is everything good that Eddie never thought he would find again after his first marriage crumbled. Buck just has that kind of power over Eddie, but Buck seems to be oblivious of it. Eddie has never been good with his words, so instead, he pulls Buck closer and press into his husband red lips in a filthy bruising kiss.

“You are my home.” Eddie whispers against Buck’s swollen lips, pressing their bodies even closer with no space left in between them.

“And you are mine.”

#Cirrius-Akiyo's bunkdump #911 fics #911 fanfic #911 fic #buddie fanfiction #buddie fic #buddie #evan buckley #edmundo diaz #eddie x buck #buck x eddie #read on ao3 #Rambler not Writer

9 notes · View notes

bat-losers-inc · 5 years

Text

Beat the Devil’s Tattoo: Chapter 2

A Collisions in the Dark AU, where instead of rescuing Tim from her father, Talia chooses to save Jason’s life, leaving Tim at the mercy, and wrath, of Ra’s al Ghul. Tim eventually wins his freedom, but the price he pays for it? Serving as a double agent for Ra’s, who wants to give Bruce a taste of his own medicine.

Author’s Note: I just wanted to give a special thank you to @the-casual-cheesecake, @versatile-me , and @queeniepearls for encouraging me to finish this chapter (instead of falling back on my usual procrastinating bullshit). This chapter goes out to you guys!

- - - - -

Nanda Parbat, Tibet

October 4, 10:02 pm

Tim awoke and found himself sprawled out on the dark, damp floor of a dungeon cell. He couldn’t say for sure, but he thought it must have only been a few hours since his reunion with Ra’s in the throne room.

He traced the back of his pounding head gingerly, searching for any sign of a head wound.

How funny, he thought with grim humor, that they would drag me all the way up to the throne room just for Ra’s to throw me back down here again. It was a waste of effort if you asked him, though nobody was.

Tim pulled his hand back sharply with a hiss. His fingers were slick with what he could only assume was blood. Perhaps he should just count himself lucky that he wasn’t dead already.

He stood on shaky legs and started to examine his new surroundings as best he could in the oppressive darkness of the cell. Reaching out a hand, he groped the empty air until he found the nearest wall and traced his fingers along the patchy lines of grout. He only found the food left out for him after nearly spilling its contents across the floor.

Tim cursed and crouched down, skimming his hands along the dirty floor until he found the plate with its chunk of bread and cheese and the cup of water. By now his eyes had begun to adjust to the darkness, so he took these items and moved back to the dark oblong shape he assumed was a cot.

There was a strange sparking noise above his head—like a moth flying repeatedly into a porch light. He’d just lifted his head to examine it further when harsh white light blazed against his eyes.

“Fucking— ” Whatever words Tim might have finished that sentence with were muffled into the fabric of his sheets as he curled into the mattress and shielded his watering eyes.

The guards’ laughter rang in his ears as he blinked away the dark spots from his vision.

“I’m glad that I’m so amusing to you!” Tim shouted at them. “I’m sure Ra’s will find it equally amusing and not see it as you slacking in your other duties when I tell him on our next meeting.”

Their laughter slowed but didn’t die out entirely. He could still hear the sound of it in their voices as they talked among themselves and left him to continue their rounds.

When, Tim thought, more like ‘if’. He had no way of knowing if Ra’s had left him down here to rot and the fact that the guards were now confident enough to play tricks on him only confirmed how his position had changed for the worse. He could sense that Ra’s’ guards knew it too and were only waiting for Ra’s himself to confirm how far Tim had fallen. Then Tim’s words would be seen for the hollow threats that they really were.

He had many hours to consider this and more. The drip of melted snow seeping through the corner of the cell’s ceiling counted the seconds like a metronome. Plink. Plop. Plink. Plop. He made a mental note to find the spot of the leak later and place his cup under it.

He distracted himself as best he could by cleaning his head wound with a strip of fabric he ripped from his sheets and soaked in water from his drinking cup. Most of the blood had dried into a sensitive scab that he didn’t dare pick at, lest it began to bleed again.

The minutes ticked on, and even though he was afraid he might have a concussion, eventually Tim drifted off into a fitful sleep.

- - - - -

He was jerked back to consciousness by the slam of metal against stone. The fluorescent lights were still blazing strongly above his head so he had a clear view of the pair of men standing in his doorway.

“The Demon Head requests your presence.”

Tim threw his arm across his tired eyes and grunted, “Tell the Demon Head to kindly go fuck himself.”

His only warning was the rustle of fabric as they rushed forward into his room and grabbed him by his ankles, dragging him off his cot. A boot kicked him in the side, knocking him over onto his stomach before his arms were grabbed roughly and bound behind his back.

He yelled as the guards hauled him off the ground and dragged him from the room, pain shooting through his still recovering shoulder. Tim thrashed and cursed, as he struggled to keep his feet under him as they made fast progress along the many halls of Ra’s’ compound.

“Wait— just wait—” Tim panted breathlessly as they stumbled up another narrow staircase that squeezed the guards against his pinned arms and tangled up his feet with their own. He pitched forward, bruising his knees and scraping the skin from his shins against the stone steps.

One of the guards twisted his hand in Tim’s shirt and tugged him back to his feet.

They continued on.

After they’d cleared the last staircase they released his arms and shoved him stumbling forward with a hand to the middle of his shoulder blades. He was beginning to think the guards had been told to handle him roughly for this treatment continued every time he slowed to catch his breath or look over his shoulder for a clue as to which direction he should be heading in.

“If you’d just tell me where we’re going I could—” They’d nearly passed a turn before one of the guards fisted his hand in the collar of Tim’s shirt and used it to yank him roughly to the right.

“This way,” he said helpfully as Tim coughed and sputtered. The other guard snickered behind him.

It was no use and almost a relief when they finally arrived at the door to Ra’s’ bedroom.

They entered without knocking. The room was lit with candles and a blazing fire against one wall. Tim resisted the urge to move closer to the fireplace, though the heat it gave off did feel like the greatest luxury after spending many hours in the damp chilly atmosphere of his cell. Ra’s was perched against the windowsill, pouring himself a glass of wine from the antique cut glass decanter at his hip. The foreboding gray mountains jutted into the black sky through the windows that ran the length of the room behind him. So it was nighttime, Tim noted with interest, and with mild unease realized that Ra’s appeared to be drunk.

“We’ve brought him as you asked, my lord.”

“I hope you weren’t too gentle with him. I sure Timothy can withstand some rough treatment,” Ra’s replied. “You can, can’t you Detective?”

Tim’s chest worked heavily to draw a steady breath as Ra’s took a long drink from his glass and eyed him with a smile.

Finally, Ra’s seemed to grow bored and waved off the guards. “Untie him and leave us.”

The rope fell away from Tim’s wrists and he rubbed the feeling back into his hands, watching Ra’s’ men make their retreat.

When they were gone, Tim spoke up, summoning what little bravado he had left in him. “Drowning your sorrows?”

Ra’s laughed. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that. I’ve had plenty of time to survey the field now that the smoke’s cleared and it doesn’t look all that bad.”

“How’s that?” asked Tim. “Because I seem to remember today ending with multiple people betraying you and your grand plan being snuffed out like a sad little candle.”

“Well, for one thing, I still have you.”

“Not for long I’m sure.”

“Anticipating a rescue party, are we?” Ra’s cooed. “Oh, Detective, you’re smarter than that. We both know it’ll be a few days before they realize you didn’t make a run for it and longer still until they’re ready to mount a rescue attempt.”

Ra’s pushed away from the wall and walked to a side table where a platter of hard cheese and assorted fruit rested. Tim watched his back as he perused his opinions. “Of course, when they do come I’ll put up quite the defensive effort— for much longer than I think they’ll be willing to fight for you. Siege warfare is such a strenuous affair after all and they have lots of other battles that need fighting. And then... you know how the old saying goes… out of sight, out of mind.”

He snapped off a bunch of grapes and turned back to face Tim.

Tim’s fists curled at his sides. “Wanton drunkenness isn’t a good look on you, Ra’s.”

“Oh, now don’t be a sore loser. I think you’re just angry at yourself for not running when you had the chance.”

Tim’s eyes lowered. He watched the grape Ra’s rolled between his fingers. “I wouldn’t have made it far before you dragged me back.”

“No, you wouldn’t have, but I would’ve loved to see you try all the same. Nothing like the thrill of the chase to get the blood pumping.”

Ra’s popped the grape in his mouth. It crushed between his teeth in a burst of juices. “Still, it does mean we get more quality time together. To really get to know each other.

I already know you more than I care to, he thought to himself. And with every new piece of me you reveal, the less I grow to like myself.

“What am I doing here, Ra’s?” His head and shoulders ached something horrible and these frequent battles of wit that they played together drained what little energy he had left. He just wanted to go back to his prison cell and lose himself in unconsciousness.

“Why, our arrangement of course.”

Tim stared at him. “The deal’s off, I’m pretty sure it died the moment I betrayed you. I can’t be a ‘partner to you in all things’ if I’m locked in a prison cell. And frankly, I don’t care to be.”

“Oh, is that why you thought I locked you up? Oh no, Detective. That was more of a disciplinary action than any decision to condemn you to life imprisonment. Think of it as a demotion. I still want our partnership to continue, but you’ll have to earn your way back into my trust before I’ll share any sensitive information with you— ”

Tim reached the door in two large strides. He used his already clenched fist as a knocker. “Guards!”

“What are you doing?” Ra’s asked as the door opened and the guards returned, looking in confusion from Tim to Ra’s and back again.

“I’m going back to my prison cell because I’m not your personal fucking prostitute, Ra’s,” Tim replied. He held out his hands for the guards to bind. “You can take me back down to my cell now.”

“So, I suppose you don’t want to hear about Jason then?”

Bitter anger surged in Tim all at once. He jerked around with a hiss. “You mean the boy that you killed out of petty teenage-level jealousy simply because I cared about him? Why the fuck would I want to hear about that, huh?”

“Whoever told you he was dead?”

“Stop. Stop toying with me! He was exposed to a lethal dose of anthrax. There’s no way he survived.”

“Oh you’re right about that, but Talia was determined it wouldn’t stay that way. I always told her not to get too attached to her pets, but she never did listen to me.”

“Wha—“ Tim’s hands dropped to his sides. Suddenly his arms felt like overcooked spaghetti instead of muscle and bone.“Are— Are you saying that Jason’s alive?”

“Why should I tell you? Our deal is off,” he eyed him, “isn’t it?”

Tim’s chest felt like it was being constricted, the air slowly being squeezed from his lungs. He tipped his head back and stared unseeing at the ceiling unwilling to believe that even after everything he'd gone through, Ra’s still managed to find strings to pull that forced Tim to dance to his whims like a marionette. He thought he had nothing left to lose and therefore, Ra’s had nothing he could gain. He was wrong.

Tim shook his head, he just needed to keep himself together enough to get through tonight. If he could find out if Jason was alive, it would make it all worth it. With that resolution in mind, he stepped up close to Ra’s, tugged sharply at the older man’s belt buckle releasing the clasp and pulled the leather out through the loops.

Ra’s hummed, amusement playing on his lips. “What’s this?”

“I’m renegotiating,” Tim tossed the belt to the floor. “You said to me once that one favor deserves to be repaid with another. So here’s the new deal. If you want me, fine, but in return, you give me a piece of information that I want as payment. Otherwise, you get nothing.”

Ra’s stood close enough to unsettle the hairs at his temples with his every exhale. “Yes, that is one way we could do it. But what gave you the idea that I need your agreement to do anything? If I want it, I can simply take it.”

Tim tilted his head up and stared him directly in the eyes. “Do we have a deal?”

The silence stretched on for so long that Tim feared he’d lose his nerve before finally Ra’s made up his mind. “Leave us,” he snapped at his men, “and don’t return again until I call for you myself.”

The door shut with a click. Ra’s planted his hand on Tim’s shoulder and shoved hard until he obligingly dropped onto his knees before him. “I’m sure you remember what I taught you on our first night together?”

The knot in Tim’s stomach uncoiled all at once. This was nothing Tim hadn’t already suffered through before. If anything, he was more prepared for it. He could do this, he could.

He unzipped Ra’s’ fly and yanked his pants down around his thighs. There was no underwear to do away with, to no one's surprise.

Tim eyed Ra’s through his lashes. “After I do this… immediately after, you’ll tell me what I want to know?”

Ra’s threaded his fingers through his hair and held it in a tight grip. “Yes, now get to work before I change my mind.”

He pulled Tim towards his crotch. Tim’s face was pressed close to Ra’s’ skin, his every inhale breathing in Ra’s’ sweat and singular musk, before Ra’s released the pressure on the back of his head for him to pull back. Tim got to work, pushing his emotions down and away — the way Bruce had taught him to do when detailing with a violent crime scene or while undercover.

He took Ra’s in his hand, stroking him with a skilled and purposeful movement that Ra’s had taught him himself. It felt like too soon before he was wrapping his lips around Ra’s cock and bobbing forward, rocking back and forth on his knees against the hardwood floor of Ra’s room. Tim knew that the quicker he brought Ra’s over the brink the sooner this would all be over. The noises they made together were filthy to his ears, too wet and sloppy and eager. He worked hard to ignore Ra’s ceaseless rambling from above him, endless words of encouragement that made Tim’s cheeks burn with shame and fury alike.

“Yes, Timothy. Don’t you see? This is where you belong. On your knees before me, serving me—”

Tim was startled when the hand on his head increased its pressure. He was shoved down onto Ra’s cock, felt it at the back of his throat as Ra’s continued to buck up into him. Tim choked around the intrusion and shoved half blindly at Ra’s hip to make it stop.

Ra’s shushed him. “Don’t fight it. You’re stronger than this.”

Tim’s eyes watered and his throat convulsed as he worked to relax his throat and control his panicked breathing.

It seemed to take forever, but his body eventually adjusted.

Ra's pumped his hips forward shallowly. “I’m so—”

Tim was released with a gasp, falling backward onto his elbows, spit trailing from his lips. Ra’s took himself in hand and jerked energetically. Tim turned his cheek away at the last second, catching the trail of Ra’s seed against his cheek and neck.

Tim’s hand rose to wipe the mess away but was caught fast in Ra’s’ grip. “If you want to know what happened to Jason you’ll leave it where it is.”

Tim glared and retracted his hand.

“Good boy,” Ra’s purred.

“Tell me,” Tim’s voice was raspy.

Ra’s slipped himself back into his pants, leaving Tim in favor of searching out his forgotten wine glass. “I sent out men to follow Talia’s trail after I discovered her betrayal. The first pictures came back this morning.”

He flicked through a stack on a table and tossed one carelessly down to him. Tim snatched it up with greedy fingers, unable to believe his eyes.

“He’s alive,” Tim couldn’t keep the smile off his face. Ra’s didn’t fail to notice it.

“By all means,” he replied. “keep the photo. Soon, it’ll be the only thing that you’ll have left to remember him by.”

“Oh,” Ra’s continued. “I know it wasn’t part of our deal, but stay for a bit. Take a glass of wine, eat your fill, or just put your feet up. There’s no reason why we have to keep this strictly business.”

Tim pushed himself off the floor, folding the picture of Jason up into a neat little square. He moved to the buffet table and picked up a cloth napkin.“I think I’ll head back to my cell if it’s all the same to you. After all, I’m still your prisoner.”

He wiped his face clean and dropped the soiled napkin on the end of the table.

“You can’t be serious,” Ra’s said as Tim turned and walked back towards the door. “I’m offering you an evening of luxury instead of a night in a cold cell.”

Tim stilled. The door held open before him with the guards standing across the threshold. He half-turned. “I know and I don’t want it. I don’t want any of it.”

Ra’s men looked over Tim’s shoulder at where Ra’s stood behind him, waiting for him to give them their orders. Tim waited too, ready to be escorted back down the numerous floors to a dark lonely room. His wish never came. Instead, Ra’s called out, “Escort him to one of the guest rooms. The door can stay unlocked.”

Now Tim did turn, confusion written plainly on his face, but Ra’s’ face was as unreadable as ever. Before he could ask any of the millions of questions running havoc inside his brain the guards shuffled him out the door.

All he could think as he was left alone in front of a guest room whose door was free of any locks was, What the hell is he playing at now?

Once again he was alone and in the dark. Perhaps this was a prison cell of another kind entirely, and Tim was beginning to think that all the lockpicks in the world wouldn’t get him out of this one.

37 notes · View notes

theeternalspace · 5 years

Text

See Me in a Crown 4/?

Buckle up folks! We’re back on this madness at long last! This chapter has been sitting done for a while, but real life got in the way several times. I am pleased to say we are here at last though!

it’s another dark one, back in the Imagination, and time to see what Virgil and Roman have been up to!

Previous || Next

Masterpost

Summary: Virgil must make a choice. Damned if he does.... and damned if he doesn’t.

Word Count: 7.7k

Characters: Virgil Sanders, Roman Sanders. Remy Sanders.

Pairings: Still platonic, still don’t know if its gonna be romantic, Prinxiety.

Trigger Warnings: Possession/Corrupted Side, Evil!Roman, blood, threats of death, implied death, not actual death. if I missed any, please, please let me know.

~~~

“Rise and shine darling!”

Roman’s voice echoed through the room - and through Virgil’s skull. It was as bright and as cheerful as ever. As though this was one of their sleepovers the four sides would sometimes do. Or some other, innocent normal activity and not a morning with Virgil a prisoner and recovering from a wound in his leg.

Virgil hadn’t been asleep. He wasn’t sure how long he had been awake for, lying on the bed and just trying to think. He wasn’t sure how long he had been here period. Time wasn’t real in the grand scheme of things, but it was even less of a constant within the Imagination itself. He could have been here a mere five minutes as far as the rest of the mind was concerned or he could have been here for days. It was all subject to Roman’s whims, to the level of control he was pressing down on it. If he was smart - and as much as Virgil felt sick to his stomach even thinking about it, he had to admit that the Intrusive Thought had shown some level of base cunning - then he would be speeding up time as much as possible.

Anything to make the world spin faster within its little globe, to make the sun rise and set. And to make Virgil suffer. The longer he was here, the harder it was to think of getting out. The fact that nobody had come to save him yet meant either the other him was doing a really good job.

Or worse, not enough time had passed for them to know he needed saving. Which meant he could endure what would feel like weeks and weeks of this hell in no time at all. It made Virgil want to cry from either rage or fear. Honestly, he wasn’t sure anymore which. It also made him want to get out of here, the need to try and break free a constant, near overwhelming feeling.

Thoughts of escape had been quickly dashed by the sensation of a heavy cuff and chain fastened around the ankle of his good leg. No amount of tugging at it manually or mentally could so much as make it wobble. Virgil tried to reach down inside of himself for that little bit of control he had over the Imagination, but no matter how hard he reached out, only empty space waited for him.

Somehow, Roman was blocking his connection. It left him adrift and more afraid than he was willing to admit. Virgil had become so used to that sensation of being part of Thomas and his thoughts that he had long ago started to take it for granted. So much so that it felt as though a part of him had been removed, as though he were missing a limb.

It was kind of surprising that he wasn’t missing a limb, considering his last memories before the pain. The arrow that had ripped through his flesh and then the added damage as Roman had twisted it spitefully. He didn’t know how long ago he had been injured. It couldn’t have been too long because the wound was still healing. It was an ugly mess of bandages and bruises on his leg, dark purple and green splodges peeking out from under the wrapping that had been placed around it. His jeans were completely ruined, most of one leg completely hacked off, as though Roman had attached it with gusto in order to deal with the wound.

After all of that, and the half remembered dreams that followed, Virgil had expected to wake up to more pain and torture. That seemed to be this twisted version of Roman’s stock in trade after all. Instead, he had found himself lying on a large and sinfully comfortable bed. If it wasn’t for the chain trapping him to it, he might had almost felt calm.

Part of him had been surprised, and then grateful, to wake up on a bed instead of crammed back into that tiny cage. Those feelings had quickly been followed by disgust, aimed at himself. How weak and pathetic was he, that after one night and one - admittedly serious - injury, he would be grateful that he wasn’t in the cage? That was probably what Roman had been counting on. Try and wear him down that way, have his own mind turn against him and do all the work for Roman.

And now, here he was. Ready to threaten him no doubt. Virgil had to remain strong, he couldn’t give in. Ideally, he wanted to get the cuff off so he could try and escape again and that meant playing along.

For now.

He just had to keep reminding himself that it was a trick on his part. That there was no shame in bowing to the pressure for the moment if it gave him an opening down the line. And that he wasn’t actually giving in. He wasn’t that weak and pathetic. Virgil repeated that pep talk over and over in his mind, reciting it almost like a poem, letting the words flow through his thoughts in order to give him the strength he needed to actually face Roman.

But just because he was going to let him think he was feeling the stress of recent events to the degree he would give up - for the moment - that didn’t mean he had to make it too easy for the beast.

Virgil opened his eyes to look at him, expression twisted into the most unimpressed scowl he could manage. He wasn’t about to feed to the thing’s ego by appearing cowed. Not to mention, there was always the worry that he might over do it. Sure, Patton said he could never overdo it, but Virgil knew that wasn’t really the case.

If he started acting too cowed and broken, then the Thought would suspect he was up to something. It was a fine line to walk, and Virgil wasn’t sure how to do it. All he knew was that he had to try.

“Hello beautiful, are you ready for work?” Roman asked, not in the least bit fazed by the look that was being sent his way. Well, at least he hadn’t immediately worked out that Virgil was faking it and decided to hurt him again. That was a positive. Not that Virgil was normally a very positive person but he needed to hold onto that right now. Thinking about Patton helped. It also made it worse, because asking himself ‘what would Patton say’ also made him imagine what it would be like if Patton was here.

And that was something Virgil would give anything to prevent. Not his Patton. Not any of his friends in fact. This was his mess, his screw up. He had failed Roman and he had to work out a way to fix it, without getting anyone else involved because if they got involved then they might get hurt. Virgil’s eyes narrowed in distrust, examining him carefully.

“Work?”

A trap, a trap, Virgil knew it had to be a trap and yet he found himself falling for it anyway. He was curious and now more than ever, he felt the truth of the old saying about curiosity killing the cat. It had already gotten him into so much trouble since this whole nightmare had started. But wasn’t it best to ask the questions? To learn as much as he could? Roman was going to do whatever he was going to do anyway. At least if Virgil knew what was coming, he could try and think of some way to handle it.

It hadn’t worked so well for him so far but sooner or later, he was bound to get lucky. As Logan would say, statistically, he had a better chance if he asked the questions. Some part of Virgil was still convinced that Logan was wrong when it came to him, that if he had a superpower it was to sabotage that statistic, so that he was always unlucky.

“I helped you when you were ill with your infection,” Roman explained, as though it was obvious. “I even asked you if you wanted my help. You had to know there would be a price attached and now it is time to repay that debt.”

Virgil had a vague memory of that moment. Of floating, suspended somewhere between pain and bliss. With a voice that he wanted to stop talking so that he could go back to relaxing, so he could escape the reality of his situation for a little while longer. Apparently, in that state, he had made a deal with the devil.

“And... what exactly do you expect me to do, to repay you?” Virgil asked. Yet more questions, yet more opportunities to see just how far his bad luck was going to take him.

“All you have to do is sit beside me as I make my judgements. I won’t even ask you to do anything. I just want you by my side.”

That sounded easy. A little... too easy and that couldn’t be all Roman wanted. No way was that all he wanted. There was going to be some sting in the tale, some trick that he wasn’t yet aware of. If nothing else, it would be full of petty mortifying moments.

Was he actually considering this?

Going along with what had to be a trap?

Then again, realistically, what choice did he have? Bitter experience had proven to him that Roman wouldn’t take a denial of his wishes very well. Sooner or later, he would be able to resist again. Sooner, he hoped, rather than later. The alternative would be more pain and he knew still ending up in the place that Roman wanted. There would be a time to fight later, when he wasn’t getting over an infected leg wound and he could move more freely.

A voice in the back of his head pointed out that this sounded an awfully lot like giving in and justifying himself in the process. A voice that Virgil needed to ignore as he started to get out of the bed. Even sitting upright felt like an embarrassing struggle, his limbs weak and trembling after his illness.

Carefully, Virgil stood. He took a shaky, uncertain step forward, feeling his leg buckle and give out under him. If it hadn’t been for Roman catching him, he would have fallen flat on his face. For a moment, Virgil couldn’t understand why he had caught him instead of letting him feel more pain. The confusion lasted right up until the other side opened his mouth.

“In my arms at last, little songbird,” Roman murmured, a wicked smirk on his face. It was obvious that he was enjoying this a little too much, that he was getting satisfaction from Virgil being unable to even walk properly.

With a soft, barely there snarl, Virgil pushed himself back upright. With the fury that was burning in his veins, he found he didn’t care about the pain that gave him. He didn’t care about the possible angry way in which the Intrusive Thought might react to Virgil attacking him. All he cared about was getting out of the embrace, no matter the consequences.

In a way, it was even worse when Roman threw back his head and gave a joyous laugh. Really, Virgil would have taken more pain that moment over the crushing reality that Roman didn’t even see him as a threat. To make matters even worse, the regal looking side then turned, showing his back without a trace of fear and left, assuming - rightly - that Virgil would have no other option but to trail after him.

Limping slowly, Virgil followed him out of the room.

Any ideas he might have entertained about trying to escape while Roman had his back to him were dashed by the sight of Terrance waiting for them both, the figment silently slipping in behind them. No doubt keeping a close eye on Virgil and why did he have to keep the ones that looked like Thomas’ friends around? There were so many faces he could use, so many people Thomas knew more casually or had passed in the street. But no, he had to pick the ones that would hurt the most. This Thought seemed unable to let the simplest thing go by without seeing it as an opportunity to twist the knife even further.

Virgil refused to voice any of those thoughts out loud though. He wasn’t going to let Roman know that the presence of a fake friend was getting to him.

Instead, he focused on keeping a steady pace, on moving as easily as he could when his leg hurt as it did. Realistically, Virgil knew he wouldn’t have been able to try and make a break for it even without Terrance’s presence, not when his leg was like this. He wasn’t sure if it was better or worse, to have two reasons why he was going along with Roman’s wishes like a good little pet. Like the songbird Roman insisted on calling him.

With each passing moment, it felt more and more as though he was just giving in and accepting the reasons his head was conjuring up as excuses when really he was just weak. Weak and pathetic. What good was he when he couldn’t even handle one imaginary wound? When he had such a need for being the center of attention and pity, that he had managed to get not only injured but then have the wound infected for good measure? Why was he even fighting any of this? Surely it would just be better to give in? He was a coward, he didn’t like pain and if he just kept on doing what Roman wanted then it would be better for everyone.

They paused in front of the large doors which lead into the throne room. As they stood there, Roman visibly stood up taller, his whole posture shifting into that of a stern but gracious king. The role he was born to play. In that outfit and with that Thought in charge, it made a mockery of everything his Roman had stood for.

Virgil took this opportunity to close his eyes for a moment, breathing through his nose and trying to will those thoughts away. That wasn’t him. He was not his worst thoughts and he wasn’t going to give in to the fear and worry and well - anxiety - that was currently assaulting him. He was more than just his title, his role. Roman was counting on him and Virgil was not going to let him down.

With those thoughts firmly in mind, Virgil opened his eyes once more. Instantly there was the gleam of gold, light catching off the doors as they moved with an overly dramatic creak. The faintest wisps of red smoke drifted past his vision as he blinked a couple of times to try and clear his gaze and focus once more. Those doors were fully open now, Roman vanishing inside, still walking with his head held high. As though he had any right to anything in this realm.

A hand on the small of his back reminded him ever so gently, that Virgil couldn’t just stand here as he pleased.

Biting down the noise of pain that wanted to escape at the renewed pressure upon his leg, he started to limp forward once more. Each step was more and more painful. A fire that was burning through his veins and leaving him shaking and utterly spent. Virgil was so focused on not crying out or simply dropping to the ground and lying there unable to move, that he didn’t notice the changes to the throne room until he was a good way inside.

It was a lot longer for one. At first, Virgil had just thought that was his leg playing tricks on him. That because everything hurt so much, it felt like an eternity. But no, the room really had stretched out, the pillars lining the way were now almost twice as many as before. The colours had changed as well, shifting into muter, darker shades. The painfully ironic thing - everything was pain right now - was that Virgil almost preferred this new look. It was much more his style.

But it wasn’t Roman’s style and this was more than just his castle, the throne room was the beating heart of his world. If any place in it needed to be Roman, it had to be this room. For the Intrusive Thought to have twisted even this place... it made his heart sink even lower and raised new doubts about if Virgil could even sa- no. He wasn’t thinking that.

One step in front of another. One more. And then another. And another. Each step dragging him slowly but surely towards the dais which was waiting at the other end of the room. There was another difference here Virgil belatedly noticed as he dragged his aching body up the few steps which elevated this area above the rest of the room.

There were two thrones where once there had only been one. Admittedly, one was smaller than the other, set lower so that the person on it would always remain aware of their reduced position. It had a chain attached to the front right leg, a heavy cuff on the other end. The was obviously for him. Some part of Virgil was amazed that he was actually going to be allowed his own chair. A throne no less. He had expected something along the lines of the chain to keep him in place, but he had thought that Roman would have used it to further embarrass and shame him. Perhaps by making him sit at his feet.

Whatever the reason for his apparent mercy, Virgil wasn’t going to question him about it. Not out loud at least. It was added to the list of questions that were growing ever stronger in his mind, pushing at his thoughts and confusing him further. Every time he thought he got a grasp on this Thought, it shifted. If all it wanted was to hurt and humiliate him, why allow him so much as a throne?

Roman stood in front of them and gave a mocking bow, lips twisting into a triumphant smirk. And why shouldn’t he be pleased with himself? He had managed to get Virgil in here, he was winning today - he had won every day so far, but his victories had never been complete. It wouldn’t be complete here. Virgil still didn’t know exactly what Roman really wanted from him, but whatever it was, he wasn’t going to get it. With another little wave of his hand, he gestured towards the smaller of the thrones. So he wanted Virgil to sit down?

Okay. He could have that. But only because Virgil wanted to sit down too and take the weight off his aching leg.

The hand that was still in the small of his back gave him another little nudge, sending him stumbling forward. He caught the edge of the lower throne before he could actually fall, letting it steady him and no matter how badly Virgil really wanted to sit down, he couldn’t rush this. He couldn’t let them know how badly the walk had hurt him.

Somehow, he managed not to slump into the throne, sitting on it and waiting. As he expected, Terrance immediately bend down, hands reaching for the heavy looking chain.

Virgil refused to let so much as a flicker of emotion cross his face as the cuff was attached around his ankle, tying him to the throne like a leash. It could have been worse of course - if it had been an actual leash it would have been around his throat and he really didn’t think he could handle that. Not now and not ever. He felt uncomfortable enough at knowing he really was trapped. That it wasn’t even his own weakness that was stopping him from moving now, but that he was locked in, chained down.

A wild Anxiety, chained and contained at last.

To his muted surprise, Roman barely looked at him after that. He sat on his own, higher throne, head still held as high as before. With an impetuous wave of his hand, he beckoned the first claimant forward and got to work with the business for the day.

If any of the figments filing through the throne room wondered why Virgil was sitting there in chains - or indeed, why he was there at all - none of them mentioned it. He had never really understood the details of Roman’s worlds. He didn’t know how much power and freedom the people within it actually had. Were they all following programmed orders? Or was this just at a level that Roman didn’t have much of a hand in? Just automatically generated things beyond his notice.

But if Roman had planned all this, surely he would have chosen more interesting cases than neighbours squabbling over whose responsibility a fence that needed mending was or if they had been allowed to pick fruit from certain areas. In fact, none of the so called cases seemed particularly taxing. Most involved the same few petty little squabbles over and over again. There was the slightest variation in some of them. A different sort of food, eggs instead of fruit. A dam that needed fixing instead of a fence but it all boiled down to the same few things. All very mundane and normal.

So how come Virgil couldn’t help but feel as if something bad was coming?

It was ridiculous. Roman still wasn’t looking at him. He seemed fully absorbed in his role as the Prince, the font of all knowledge and justice. If it wasn’t for the outfit change and the fact he had chained Virgil to the throne, he could have convinced himself that it was still his friend. The Roman that had cared for the well being of his people, who would patiently sit for hour upon hour if that was what they needed.

How he could stand it, Virgil didn’t know. He was growing restless as it was, a prickling tingle of energy sweeping over him as he tried not to fidget. How many more of these people could there be? How many more times was he going to have to see some people shuffle through the doors and creep forward in line. When they finally reached the front they would grovel in front of Roman and wait for him to decide their petty fates?

The uneasy feeling wouldn’t go away.

Virgil’s gaze flickered around the room as though he could somehow pinpoint whatever it was that was making him feel like that. There had to be something, something he might not have realised that he saw but had buried its way into his subconscious like a tic. He could brush and pick at the spot all he liked but the teeth had burrowed their way deep and there was no way to get them out. Not until he could understand what it was that he had seen.

Was it one of the guards? There had been a slight stiffening to the ones standing by the doors leading in and out. A somewhat sharper snap to attention as though aware of eyes on them. But surely that, on its own, couldn’t explain that feeling of dread.

“I sentence you both to death...”

Roman’s voice, calm, collected, cut into his thoughts. Only then, did Virgil realise how far away his mind had taken him. He hadn’t even noticed the passage of the last few cases. Or how there were now two cowering women in front of Roman. The darkly clad regal side was staring down at them, his face expressionless.

To Virgil, that scared him almost more than the anger or the mocking had. Roman’s face was no built to be devoid of feelings. He always carried a little of himself in his look. Be he happy, sad, thoughtful, excited, or whatever. It was always on his face and Virgil could always read it. Yet there was nothing in this look. Not a hint of mercy or pity. It was as if all the lights were on but nobody was actually home.

Virgil missed his friend. But here, more than ever, he found himself mourning the absence of Roman. He would never have looked like that or said such things. He would never lift a perfectly manicured hand, fingers twisted into a thumbs down like some Roman Emperor of old.

“You stole from the King’s forest. You know the laws, nobody may enter without my express permission. This is not the first time it has happened recently either. I have no choice but to make an example of the two of you in the hope that you may prove a beneficial example to the rest. You will be taken from this place and burnt in the castle grounds before the day is done.”

They weren’t real. They weren’t real.

That didn’t make their cries of terror and pleas for mercy any easier to hear. Virgil could imagine their deaths. He could picture the way they would twist and scream in the flames, the stench that would drift around the castle. The way the ash would get caught up in the wind and mingle with everything else. He could imagine their pain - did the figments feel pain? They certainly felt fear and it was making Virgil feel scared in turn.

Not to mention, how would Roman feel about this? Virgil still held onto hope that he would find a way to break through to his friend and he was going to be upset about everything that had happened as it was. Sentencing people to death, the same people he had sworn in his coronation oath to project might be a step too far for him to handle.

“Roman, wait,” Virgil muttered. The dread was still pulsing in his stomach like some living, breathing thing. A beast made out of sickness and anxiety, bad thoughts made real. This was going to make things worse. This was a mistake.

But doing nothing was a mistake too. Roman tilted his head slightly towards Virgil, his eyes still firmly fixed on the crying women. He didn’t say a word, but he neither had he ordered his guards to take the women away.

“Don’t kill them... you... if you kill them, the people will fear you. Resent you. If you show mercy, they will love you. I’m sure... I’m sure they will obey you after this if you make it clear next time you will not be so forgiving?”

Virgil pitched his voice as low as he could as he spoke. Something inside him told him that Roman would not appreciate him speaking any louder. Perhaps it was the silence from Roman. Or the way he had bend his head towards Virgil to allow them to whisper. Maybe it was every period or fantasy drama he had seen which included this kind of scene. They always whispered in those cases.

Advisers to the king. Was that what he had become? Was he steeped in evil because of it?

“Very well...” Roman said slowly. His gaze had never once left the two women. “My consort has begged for mercy and I am inclined to grant it. Whipping and public penance. Begone before I change my mind.”

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Consort?! Where had that come from? What the hell was the Thought playing at now? The two women didn’t need to be told twice, each giving him a series of frantic little bows as they almost fell over themselves in their haste to get out of the room, the guards following close behind. Virgil paid them no heed. His mind was still stuck on that one word, turning it over and over in his mind like a pebble, worn smooth by the countless, crashing waves.

“Did you like that title?” Roman purred, finally looking in his direction. His eyes were gleaming with none too subtle malice, clearly enjoying himself. “I couldn’t help myself, not with the throne you were sat upon. It is technically a seat for a Queen after all.”

Virgil felt his fingers curl into fists, nails digging into the soft smooth skin of the palms of his hands, pressing so tight that he was sure there would be moons scattered across his skin for all to see. Countless little half moons, red and pulsing. Ugly, hot little reminders of how easily Roman could bring everything crashing down.

One little word and he was able to slip through Virgil’s defences, to find the weak spot and press hard. That was all it took when you were a master of the craft as Intrusive Thoughts clearly was. He had no idea what he meant by that term, if it was just to tease or if there was some other, deeper, darker meaning at play. It didn’t even matter in the long run what the Thought had actually meant by it.

His intent paled in comparison to Virgil’s reaction. Roman knew him, which meant that the Intrusive Thought knew him. He would know exactly how badly Virgil would take any sudden shift, any great change. To be forever moving, shifting, going from one phase to another might be how people lived. How even they all lived. And on the whole, he could stand up tall and proud when he thought of his past phases... but that didn’t mean he enjoyed the transition between the two.

The idea that such a term could be thrown out so casually, as though it didn’t change anything when it did everything was almost physically painful to him. The fact that he almost certainly meant nothing by it only hurt Virgil further because that brought with it the fear that he would use other terms again just for the fun of it.

The Thought didn’t need to do anything further. Virgil would do all the work for him, would torture himself with that word. Virgil hated that. He despised even more the simple fact that knowing about the trap his own mind would create for him didn’t help him work out how to avoid it. He could see the pit of spikes in the road up ahead and yet his pace didn’t slow or alter.

Nothing to do but go to his doom.

“I listened to you, little bird,” Roman cooed. He reached out, hand cupping Virgil’s cheek before sliding lower to grip lightly at his chin. Virgil had been so caught up in his own thoughts, the worries twisting and turning on themselves like angry snapping Cerberus heads, that he could do nothing but let him.

“You did,” Virgil agreed hoarsely. His palms were stinging now, little spots of sensation that created their own constellations against the sky of his skin. This was all too much. Too much thought and feeling. Too much worry and sensation. He needed to get out of here, he needed to go. For the first time Virgil actually felt like the animal that Roman seemed to be trying to make him. The panic that rose in him was bestial, instinctive and devoid of any finer common sense. It was ruled by the desire to get out of this situation and nothing else.

He turned away - or at least, he tried to.

In an instant, the fingers had tightened around him, digging in deep. Sharp and cruel, pinning him in place. It was so much worse than the marks he was leaving on his own skin because it spoke to his lack of control. It was yet another reminder - as though he needed another - that he had no agency of his own right now. The Thought could do whatever he wanted to Virgil’s body. He had proved that time and time again from the cage to the hunt to this moment. He could do whatever he wanted to his mind too and Virgil wasn’t sure how he was supposed to fight this.

“Since you think you’re so good at making judgements, you can make the next one,” Roman told him, carrying on the conversation as though he wasn’t gripping Virgil hard enough to leave marks. He twisted his hand, forcing Virgil’s head to turn and look towards the main entrance.

Virgil’s heart didn’t sink so much as plummet.

Because there, being dragged through the two grand doors were October and Sleep, affectionately known as Toby and Remy respectively. Toby had a cut over his left eye, his hair dishevelled. Remy was in almost a worse state because he had lost his sunglasses. He looked so... vulnerable without his glasses and Virgil felt bile rise in his throat. It stung and burned as it went, leaving an acidic aftertaste in his mouth. The two lesser elements of Thomas were forced down to their knees in front of them.

Their hands were bound behind their backs, guards on either side but it didn’t stop either of them attempting to struggle and fight their way free. Remy tried to meet his gaze but Virgil couldn’t hold it, his eyes dropping down to stare at the floor. They were stinging as hard as his throat now, tears burning at the corners.

This was wrong and this had been a trap. He just never would have suspected... this. Whatever this was actually turning out to be and he felt very slow, very stupid. There was a malicious cunning at work here, some level of cruelty that not even Virgil could predict.

Sharp nails dropped away from his chin, Virgil shrinking back into the throne as they did. His hands relaxed as well, no doubt leaving the little moon marks as he had already suspected. It wouldn’t take long for those to fade though, there was no permanence to them, no lasting harm. Not like the damage this threatened to cause. He could barely breathe, staring down at the knees of Remy and Toby. Why were they here? What terrible thing was going to happen now?

“Someone came snooping,” Roman explained, voice light and dreamy. He sounded as though he was talking about a dream he wanted to share or something cute he had seen that day, not the two prisoners he had captured.

What if what he had been doing to Virgil was just a warm up for these two? What if he was going to hurt them? Virgil had started this whole nightmare dragged in front of Roman - how long ago that seemed now. It felt almost like a whole different lifetime, sitting and chatting with everyone, helping Thomas with his latest drama.

Was he ever going to be able to help Thomas with some of his worries ever again?

“They found out more than they were supposed to. I can’t leave any witnesses lying around. But I’m a generous man. They both represent smaller fragments of Thomas. He can survive with one of them temporarily suppressed.”

“What... what do you mean?” Virgil asked, stumbling a little over the words. Roman couldn’t mean... surely, he couldn’t mean what he thought he meant? Not even the worst Intrusive Thought could go as far as to kill one of them. They wouldn’t stay dead of course - death could only come to a side if they chose to remove themselves. Even then, the trait itself would remain, would recreate itself with no memories of the previous version.

The only other way they could die would be if Thomas died and Virgil had no intention of letting that happen any time soon. Or, if he and Logan had their way, ever. Logan had a lot of interesting talk about extending life spans. Freezing people. That sort of stuff.

It made Virgil want to giggle a little, something high pitched and desperate. Here he was, thinking about how they could be cryogenically frozen in order to live forever and Roman was still talking about murdering one of their friends. It didn’t matter if it wouldn’t be permanent. There wouldn’t be a physical mark but this would leave a scar and he couldn’t even start to imagine how any of them could recover from that.

“I mean I’m going to make one of them fade. By the time they reform and eventually recover their memories to know what happened to them, it will be too late for them to get in my way. Am I not merciful?”

Virgil didn’t answer. He couldn’t, his whole body and mind felt frozen, locked into place as the meaning of those words echoed around a suddenly silent room. Roman actually... he was actually going to do that? He really was going to... Virgil wanted to scream, to cry. He wanted to jump out of the throne, chain and wounds be damned. To go for the throat of this monster which mocked him while wearing a friend’s face and plotting the destruction of other friends.

His body refused to respond to those desires, to the heat that lapped against the icy shore of his will. How could he do anything when Roman had already showed how easily he could capture and hurt others? There was Remy and Toby to think of, still restrained with the sword of judgement hanging over them.

Roman stood, movements slow and deliberate. Out of the corner of his eye, Virgil could see the dark trouser legs as he moved closer. For the first time, Virgil felt a pang of fear at the thought of Roman close by. This was so much worse than the hunt, or when he had laid at his feet in agony, an arrow in his leg.

Even then, Virgil had been able to summon up some sort of defiance. He didn’t know how to do that now, he couldn’t find it in him to be brave as Roman’s hand settled on his shoulder, fingers squeezing. Not hard enough yet to cause any actual pain but the threat was there, as clear as if he had actually said the words.

“I said,” Roman repeated, voice sparkling with not so subtle dangers. “Am I not merciful my little bird?”

Virgil thought of Remy and Toby, watching this whole scene from their knees. He thought of his own pain, the hunt and how unimportant that was compared to everything else. He thought of the friends that were still safe outside this nightmare, who were blissfully oblivious to the horrors being waged here. Virgil would do anything to protect them, to try and save Remy and Toby now. What was his own pride compared to that?

“Very... merciful,” he forced out at last, fingernails slotting back into the impression left from only a few minutes previously. Had it really only been a minute or two since he had last sat with his fingers curled into tight, biting little fists? So much seemed to have happened since then, and yet in reality, it had been such a short span of time.

“Good pet,” Roman replied, hand now petting at his hair as if he was nothing more than that name. The bile rose in his throat again, more acidic than before, threatening to scorch his throat and leave him decaying. The regal side shifted a little, one hand waving towards the two below them.

“Choose,” he announced grandly. “Who should I spare?”

The world seemed to tilt on those words, everything shifting and becoming alarmingly grey around the edges. Choose? He was supposed to choose? How could be possibly do that? How dare the Thought inside of Roman try and put this on his shoulders.

It was a gross perversion of everything Virgil stood for. Which, he was painfully aware, was undoubtedly the reason why he had decided to do it. What better way to hurt Virgil than through those he loved. What better way to hurt those he loved than to try and make Virgil be the one to wield the sword. He wouldn’t do it. He wasn’t going to play these games any longer. He wasn’t going to sit here and meekly play at being Roman’s trophy, his consort, his bird or whatever demented title he came up with next.

“I can’t. I won’t,” Virgil spat out, the intensity of those words surprising even him. All the fire he had tried to suppress was bursting free once more, a raging roaring flame that refused to bow down to something as undeniably wrong as the Thought.

“You won’t?” The question was spoken mildly enough, but in the same dangerous tone as before. That time Virgil had crumpled under the pressure, had told himself that he had to agree for the sake of the others. This time, he knew he had to disagree for exactly the same reason.

“No,” Virgil replied and it didn’t matter what Roman did to him. He could stab him in the leg again and twist it for all it was worth, but he wasn’t going to sentence either of them to death. He wasn’t going to hurt his friends, he would gladly take all the pain on himself.

Almost unconsciously, Virgil felt himself brace for a blow that didn’t come. Roman considered his words thoughtfully for a few moments and then shrugged his shoulders in apparent defeat. The gesture only made him that much more nervous because he had never given in before.

“Very well. Both of them then. They will both die.”

“No!” Virgil cried, his heart leaping to his throat and who knew what would happen to Thomas if he lose them both.

Losing Sleep would... be terrible. Perhaps not too noticeable at first considered how little sleep he got anyway, but give it long enough and he would start to really suffer. Thomas would hurt without Remy there. Losing October would be a problem for the videos but he was so much more than just a month. He represented all the joy Thomas had within that month. Virgil felt closer to October than any other monthly function. Toby was so much cooler than him of course, but they both loved Halloween.

Thomas needed them both and Virgil had to do something. Of course, if he did nothing, if they both died - were suppressed - then surely someone would notice? Patton or Logan or even Thomas? With both of them out of the way, Thomas’ behaviour would change. They would start to question, might follow the trail all the way back to this castle. They might be able to stop Roman, save them both and then -

It was a pleasant dream. A hope of a much better future, one that didn’t involve bars and blood. Virgil couldn’t do that however. As much as he wanted to get out of this hellish landscape, he couldn’t condemn them both to death. He couldn’t run the risk of Thomas being seriously - and who knew, perhaps even permanently - damaged by such a loss.

Roman arched a brow, his expression condescending.

“No? I gave you a simple choice my pet. I offered you the chance to spare one of them. One will die and one will live. Or both will die. If you refuse to pick, then I will. Shall we watch the double execution from our thrones? I could have them killed right here and now.”

“No!” Virgil repeated again. He gasped for breath, feeling himself teeter on the edge of a cliff unlike any he had ever known before. The rocks which were spread out below him were far more treacherous and deadly than anything else. This was a wound he was cutting into his own flesh. Plucking out his heart and shredding it between his own fingers.

Mouth opened and closed a few times, Virgil struggling for breath, for words. Eventually thought, he was able to force some out.

“I... I’ll pick.”

“Good boy. Very well. Who gets to survive for another day?” Roman leaned forward a little, an intent, excited look in his eyes as he waited for the answer. Although Virgil was deliberately not looking at them, he was sure the two on their knees were leaning forward a little too, both helpless and waiting to see where the blow would fall.

“Sleep,” Virgil whispered, closing his eyes so he wouldn’t give into temptation and look towards them both. Some small, dark part of himself wanted to, wanted to hurt himself by seeing the reaction, to let Toby glare. He wanted one of them to hurt him because then it might be easier to bear this hurt in turn.

Virgil was a coward though. The larger part of him couldn’t bare see the betrayal in Toby’s eyes. He felt physically sick at the words he had uttered but what else could he do? Sleep was a physical representation of a much needed bodily function. Thomas needed to sleep and while he could survive without it for a day or so, it couldn’t be much longer than that. Virgil couldn’t risk Thomas like that. He couldn’t take away sleep.

“As you wish. Take October outside. Do it in the Courtyard” Roman murmured, voice low and almost comforting. In the otherwise dead silence of the throne room it felt deafening, as though he was screaming the orders so that everyone would know what Virgil had done. How he had, to all intents and purposes, killed a friend.

There was the sound of guards moving around, the struggle of a body being dragged away and still Virgil couldn’t bring himself to look up. It was taking everything he was not to cry out in rage and guilt, to not make it worse.

“Take Sleep to the dungeon,” Roman ordered. Virgil’s head snapped up at that, eyes widening in horror. He had sacrificed Toby for Remy, had given up his own soul to protect him and now Roman was going back on his word? He had never made Roman promise and why hadn’t he gotten some oath out of him before galloping ahead with his choice? It was no excuse to allow himself to be so driven by fear and not rational thought. Logan would have been so disappointed in him. Then again, it wouldn’t have been as painful as the self hatred that was flowing through him now.

“You said you would let him go!”

“I said no such thing my little songbird,” Roman retorted, one hand lifting to rest lightly against his heart, as though wounded by the tone of voice Virgil was using. “I said I would make one of them fade. Nothing about what I would do to the other.”

tag list;

@stanley-jigsaw @applecannibal @cookiethedevil @i-will-physically-fight-you @jemthebookworm @4amanxiety @plaid-purple-patches @hikarisakurariver

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #roman sanders #remy sanders #angst #wip #dark #angst with happy ending one day #please be aware of warnings #see me in a crown #long post #aca writes

49 notes · View notes

adore-you-hs2 · 4 years

Text

Kiss me or kill me

Third-person

----

The next day when she woke, she bolted up from the floor, blinking twice she looked around the cabin, she must have cried herself to sleep last night. The bitter reminder of where she was came to her in waves of sorrow.

She slowly stood up with the help of gripping the table and stood upright. Looking around the cabin, she developed the notion to either escape or maybe even arm herself with something.

But, then again he has already done harm to her even if it was small. A shiver ran up her Spine at the thought that maybe he would toy with her before torturing her... Then kill her. After all he was the capitin. The king of the sea.

Lily padded cautiously over to the door and tried the lock. The knob turned. And it opened. To her relief, it was not locked. Hesitant to walkout. She stepped back and looked around quickly for something to protect herself from harm just in case.

Immediately she walked over to the table where she had seen all the charts. Her eyes landed on one then another quickly as her fingers scattered around until they landed on a letter opener that was slightly hidden beneath a map with red crosses over different island one being port royal.

Relief filled her heart. It may not be a dagger but she hopes it does the same kind of damage. lily grabbed it.

Holding it securely in her hand, she stepped closer to the door and slowly poked her head through it, only to be met with darkened passageways, she continued until she was finally out the door.

Looking to the right and then to the left, she prayed to the good lord for guidance, she slowly turned to her right, alert more than ever.

She was happy to see that there was a bright light shining through and the fresh smell of sea salt through the door.

Suddenly the sound of heavy boots and swearing came from out side the door.

“shes anything but dirt on the ship!, I'm telling you boys”

That voice, it was his. The animal that had caused so much misery to her in less than two days.

Laughter could be heard followed by his comment about her.

She looked down at the diamond wrong that sits on her finger as the warm sensation of tears fell down her cheeks, she remembers what he and his vermin crew had done to her family and friends.

Slowly she made her way the door and stepped put until light her and the crew could see her face.

But when she saw him her heart launched, everyone around her including the captain hadn't noticed she had stepped outside, nobody seemed to see her at all.

To her relief, the devil hadn't turned around yet so she took her chance and launched forward him with the letter opener in the air.

But the moment she got close enough, a strong arm wrapped around her wrist, she fought to get away struggling with everything she had. The painful bite into her wrist made her drop the letter opener on the floor, she panicked. She needed it.

” pass me the wrench, Alex”

She was pushed forward into Captain's arms, Lily was spun around and roughly held in place. She defhad no match against the captain for two reasons.

One she had nothing to protect her self with, and two she was scared if what he was capable of.

She worked her nails down the his arm that held onto her lower back and pushed his chest as hard a she could and was suddenly pushed with a force that made her drop to her knees in front of him.

” l saw we send her to David Jones locker!, capatin”

”no whip her till she can't stand no more”

Shout after shout was screamed at the captain to do horrid things to her, but all she did was look at the floor in a haze. She was so close yet so far.

”Everyone shut the fuck up!” the captain screamed at the crew and everything around them was silent, only the sound of styles heavy breathing could be heard.

Trembling with anger his mouth opened once more.

”why can't you just learn your fucking place!”

His arms shot around her waist once more and Yankee her off the floor. To hurt she didn't reply and did not move as she stood up with shaky legs and confronted the men on the ship.

Her eyes lower to her fingers and notice tiny specks of blood leaking through her nails. She blinked and looked up to the furious eyes of the rosebud revenge captain as he fear spread throughout her body and trembled.

He didn't looked this angry yesterday.

”you stupid bitch, you wanna act like a big now do you” he gritted his teeth as his gaze landed on his arm that also had tiny drops of blood on .

” well, do you!”

She did not answer. She could not.

Panic held her to the spot as her heart thumped painfully in her chest that she could hear her pulse in her ears as well as his order.

” take her below”

She backed away as quick as she could and ran, the men began to Scrabble for her, some even ripping her dress in places and some shouting for her .

Without thinking, she clamoured over the training and took her gaze into the dark sea beneath her. and without a moment of hesitate.

She jumped

----

With a curse, he ran and gripped the railing and watched with shock as she hit the water, without hesitation he climbed over and jumped in after her.

Dark salty water enveloped them both as he swam for her beneath the rough current. Bring the surface, he looked around for her petite figure as he heard his men above shouting and pointing out in the distance.

Enraged he watched as she swam and dove beneath the water trying to escape. He took off in her direction kicking strongly to get to her before she dove them further away from the ship .

With skilled fluidity beneath the current and brutal waves due to his life at sea, he was able to swim faster and quickly catch up to her. She panicked and kicked harder and grew tired against the waves that curled over her and pulled her under.

Beneath the dark water, she kicked and cries out when Harold's fingers wrapped around her ankle and pulled her back, she kicked and kicked trying to get free from him but he was much stronger. She thrashed about until he went under and he grabbed her.

”let me go!” lily cried out before drifting under the water.

Her struggles only pulled them both under it until he furiously pulled her up and shook her .

”stop, ” he growls wrapping his arms tightly around her around her.

Water sloshed over their heads dragging them under once more covering their silent battle beneath. She kicked hard against him, yanking and beating at his hard chest as she gulped water in the process.

He drew her against him as her struggles slightly weakened and bobbed strongly to with surface with her.

Her last attempt to fight wildly had failed. Her strength began to wane and her struggles stopped as he harshly gripped her hair and held her to him.

“ if you don’t calm down , I will drown you myself you foolish girl,” he shouts.

Weak and filled with so much exhaustion, she stopped and sagged against him. A slight pang of guilt gripped his heart as she wept and gave up spending her weight on him as if giving up completely.

At a distance, he saw his men lower a boat into the water he treaded the water back towards the ship until he was beside the ship and lifted up and help her into the ship. Shortly joining her he sat as his men hoisted the boat back aboard the ship.

Annoyed and wet, he ordered furiously for her to be taken to his cabin that she was locked in. She did not resist as they led her away.

Some time has passed since he went below and changed into a pair of dry clothes into another cabin. He wanted to avoid being near her while he was still fuming with anger after her attempt to escape him.

He don't want to kill her just yet.

Now he stood at the railing staring out into the sea that nearly consumed them alive until he felt the tension lift from his shoulders. With a deep breath, he shoved away from it and headed straight for his cabin .

Finally there he branched himself before entering for a few minutes then opened the door and stepped in when he shut the door and stood before it he turned to look at her, as she was turning to face him.

----

She stood before him drenched, trembling not only from the cold but fear as well, with a mental curse he clenched his jaw as he forgot to get her something to change into.

He stepped closer and watched as she nervously shifted and stepped back until she was pressed against the wall at her back.

His gaze combed over her delicate features and peered into soft aqua blue eyes that held rears and nothing but fright. Unwillingly his gaze lingered over her petite form. She was the most beautiful thing he has ever laid his eyes on.

None of the women he had been with matches to her look .

He slowly lifted his fingers and grazed them gently around her nape the bruises still visible from yesterday when he had his around it and pulled her slowly forward until she peered up closely into his eyes.

Heavy droplets of tears slowly rolled down her cheek.

For the first time since he had brought her apon this ship, he was treating her delicately like she would break any minute. he knew nothing about her no name, no idea why someone so cute and sodmft was from the portroyal.

”whats your name?” he asked

She hesitated before replying on she didn't want him to shout any more.

”Lily James, captain” she whispered

A ghost smile formed on his lips as they repeated her name, testing the tone of the name that conveyed very little about the sweet creature before him .

” do you have any idea what you could have done today lily?”

She shook her head as her blue eyes locked with his green one's.

”i-im sorry captain ”

A long silence followed

”dont ever don that again,” he warned ” I will ring your neck, am I clear?”

She nodded

With that, he stormed off out of the cabin slamming the door shut.

A torrent of tears followed with breathless sobs.

A while had passed and her cries quieted down slightly to sniffles. Then slowly the door of the cabin opened and she watched as Harold entered once again. Their gaze met for a brief moment before she lowers her eyes.

He came forward and produced some clothing.

” take that off and change into these, ” he ordered.

Her gaze lowered to the clothing in his hands before lifting her gaze wearily to his.

Noticing immediately that she wasn't going to change in front of him, he stepped closer to the he and placed them down then turned to leave.

When the door shut, she turned to look at them from afar, dry tears fell from her eyes at the garments he had brought her to wear. Although she should be grateful, deep down she was trembling and cold. But she was maotlt angry at him and wanted nothing from him. She lowers her gaze to her sopping wet dress that clung to her body clenching her jar to keep her teeth from clattering. She shut her eyes tightly and hugged herself trying not to cry, that all she's beening doing since she got here.

Not realizing time had passed, so deep I to her thoughts she was not aware that Harold had returned. When he slammed the door shut, she jumped.

She stood there with her gaze not meeting anything as he looked at the garments untouched on the bed.

”i see tho refuse to change” he said steppe g forward.

She did not answer

He stared down at her and gazed at her with a mixture of impatience and anger as she trembled from the cold but stubbornly refused to take off her dress.

”take off these wet clothes lily, and change, ” he ordered again.

She didn't move an inch from his order.

His gaze hardened and his lips thinned ”do it or I will take it off for you”

He pressed her lips together in frustration when she heard his threat in the tone if bis voice.

With a muttered curse, he grabbed her by the front of the gown. Her gasp and cold fingers landed on his to keep him from pulling it. Her cries and struggles did not deter him any as he twisted the wet fabric in his fists.

”stop” she begged between sobs panicking as the sharp sounds of tearing echoed throughout the cabin.

Deep down a hurtful peng formed in his stomach at what he was doing but he caused afford to see her catch her death from a cold due to her stubbornness.

She frantically held on and he roughly ripped the grown In two, straight down the middle, yanked it off of her and tossed it to the floor .

His jaw clenched as his gaze fell in her naked and beauty before him. She wept and her hands flew to her perky breast to cover herself up.

”get dressed”he said again pointing to the clothes in the bed. His tine low and dangerous.

”You animal!” she yelled then turned away to reach for the clothes on the and tossed them at him.

” I want nothing from you” she cried out trembling with anger and tears.

His piercing gaze held hers.

His statuesque stance and silence only angered her more then she lunged for him with more hateful words.

With as much control as he could muster, he warded off her assault and held her wrists that pumped his chest. As weightless as a feather she was, he lifted her up struggling and screaming and tossed her on to the bed.

” you are an ungrateful little wench!” he grows between his teeth stepping closer.

She scrambled for the sheets beneath her and held them to her chest.

”and you're a black hearted scoundrel, ” she yelled back on her knees facing him.

Heated with rage their gazes clashed as he stepped closer until she could feel the heat on his body.his hand shot out quickly and bit harshly into her arm and yanked her close until their noses touched.

The deadly glare in his eyes sent a shiver up her spine” I will be a fool twice over if I ever try to save your pathetic self again, stay the way you are if you wish. It is my greater advantage because you can't escape with nothing on.”

To her horror, she realized what he meant as she clutched the sheets tighter to her chest.

”if you don't want to be prey to the sharks on deck, I suggest you stay locked in here. and let's hope you come to your senses” he shoved her away.

With that he spun around and retrieved the clothes from the floor. With once last glance her way it felt as if a knife had twisted in his chest watching her brake and sob as she lowered herself. But she chose this.

He shook his head. He left slamming the door

___________

@c-h-e-r-r-y-y

#harry styles smut #harry styles preferences #stylesupdated #myedit #harry styles angst #harry styles one shots #harrystylesficrecs #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurbs #harry styles fight

9 notes · View notes

antis-delete-your-blogs-pls-thx · 5 years

Text

Mouse’s Reclist (#1/?)

Okay, it is time. Time to get working on the incredibly frustrating (but rewarding) task of putting together a fic reclist (the EDM one is next). No, none of my own are going to be on here, I literally know antis would accuse me of doing that for clout. If you want my own fics, DM me :). They probably suck, most of them are really self-indulgent, and I have an update schedule that embodies the slow feeling of trying to download free porn from a dial-up connection in 1997. And your mother is picking up the phone when you’re at the last megabyte and makes you start over. Or something.

I’m going to put a hotlink on the title and probably the author, if that’ll work super easy in a format transfer. Then I’ll post the fandom, pairing, and fic summary in italics, and uh, possibly a small review with some warnings. Keep in mind I can’t be as thorough as the authors themselves, if they’ve chosen to tag at all, because while I do reread these often, I can’t remember every exact trigger. Some of these are fluffy, and some of these are FUCKED UP. Capital F, capital U. Let’s get started. Not organised by fandom or by alphabetical order or by length because my ADHD just says “ONTO THE NEXT LINK GOGOGOGOGOGO” every five seconds. Google docs,,,, stop yelling at my grammar and let me do this thing. There should be about 30 or so under the cut. (Maybe I’ll do more?)

Obviously the first is Three Missing Girls in Madison, Wisconsin by lapsi. This is the Mindhunter Bill/Holden rec that I posted, like, four days ago, and what inspired me to post my own little oneshot drabble. You can check for that in my recs tag for a more detailed description. Let’s just say it’s fucking gorgeous. Everything by lapsi is gorgeous.

Revalations by Anonymous - MCU/Starker/WIP - “I still don’t get it,” Ned says. “How you just... keep being ordinary in spite of all the craziness you’ve lived through. You were in space. You helped Iron Man save the universe. And nobody knows it was you.” His tone softens, becomes almost sad. As though he realizes that what he’s saying is so completely alien to him that he will never be able to understand this part of Peter’s life. “Peter, don’t you want people to know you for who you are?”//An AU where they get the Gauntlet off of Thanos that first time, on Titan. - This is a sort of supremely fucked up but also absolutely beautiful Starker fic with aged up!Peter. By, like, three years, and he’s still essentially Tony’s sugar baby, but whatever. It’s literally an absolute amazing ride.

the spaces between the stars by indigostohelit - Generation Kill/Bradnate - Lieutenant Nathaniel Fick of the USS Devil Dog is returning to Earth with the weight of the world on his shoulders: his captain is incompetent, his crew is half in mutiny, and the mission to a distant star may have been more of a failure than anyone could have comprehended. But on the journey back, something in the ship goes terribly wrong—and Nate may have to bear far more than the weight of the world if he's going to keep his men safe. - Okay, what fandom ancients still remember Generation Kill? Warnings in and of itself for just the general nature of camaraderie on that show. I’m usually a Bradray sucker (remind me to get to those next time), but this was fucking fantastic. Sci-fi mystery AU is my absolute FAVOURITE genre, hands down, all time, ever. And indigo has written a veritable basketload of my fav fics besides, so I can always trust in them.

All of Astolat’s MegOp fic - Transformers/MegOp - ‘Nuff said. She’s the founder of the goddamn site. You’re damn straight I’m going to fawn over her fic. Also it’s fucking good, founding the site aside. I cried. I cried so fucking much. I dripped tears like a sponge.

The White Road by perverse_idyll - Harry Potter/Snarry - One day, comfortably set up in the afterlife, Lily Evans Potter switches on the telly and gets hooked on the Harry Potter show. - Okay, first, this is the only time I’ve literally ever seen one-sided Snily where Lily was the one pining. Anyway, the summary explains the premise, but doesn’t do it justice. Lily watches down on the many possible universes that contain her son’s future from a comfy spot in the afterlife. The relationship between literally everyone in the fic and Severus is… exquisitely-detailed and heart-wrenchingly painful. I’d die for this fic, so I could read a million versions of it in the afterlife.

Rapture by mia_ugly - Harry Potter/Snarry - Snape sees the man, for the first time, on his twenty-fifth birthday. - I fucking bawled my eyes out the first time I read this. And the second. And the third. Dumbledore gives Harry a time-travelling watch for his birthday. A watch that travels to a young Severus, who Harry gets to know. On a pretense, of course. And then he falls in love with him. They both do. It’s absolutely agonising angst, but it has a happy ending. It will fucking pack a punch though, so get the tissues ready. This one is perhaps my favourite Snarry fic of all time. Period. Please don’t pass it up. The writing is so fucking amazingly-crafted. I would sell my soul to write like this.

Shell Game by forthegreatergood - DCU/Superbat - Batman wants Superman. Superman wants Batman. Eventually they'll get it sorted out. - An absolutely spot-on identity porn fic. As cheesy as the summary sounds, this fic hits hard. And it has sex pollen. Who can resist sex pollen? Pun intended, maybe.

Every Superbat fic by Susiecarter. - DCU/Superbat - Susie is a friend of mine (fucking,,, don’t know how I managed that one, apparently I write good enough fic for them to read,,, astonishing), and one of Superbat fandom’s greatest contributors. One of DCEU fandom’s greatest contributors, in fact. Everything they’ve written is a masterpiece. But the ultimate fav? as to which may be the true. Hands down. IDENTITY PORN GALORE.

The Long Hangover by CoffioCake - DCU/Superbat - Clark knows he should take a break: His powers are on the fritz, he feels like shit, and Batman’s treating him like a liability. But Gotham's villains seem to have it in for Metropolis' Big Blue Boy Scout and Clark won't just wait around for answers. Batman might be the world’s greatest detective, but Clark Kent is one of the Daily Planet’s most tenacious reporters.//This is definitely a job for Superman. - Okay, I can’t promise another Superbat won’t show up on this list. I’m a sucker for it. I’m also a sucker for case fic. Which is this. It’s so good. So good.

No Glory (and everything else in the HP fandom) by ObsidianPen - Harry Potter/Tomarry/WIP - The Dark Lord divines what Harry Potter is in the Forbidden Forest, and revelations lead to incomprehensible consequences. Lord Voldemort has won... and the dystopia is damning.//A tale of a fallen hero, dark desires, and a Dark Lord's obsession with something he has lost and finds himself unwillingly lusting after: a soul. - This is a Voldemort wins!AU. A fucking delicious one. If only my own Tomarry could aspire, by god. The imagery in this is so vivid I could swear it was painted on my eyelids. The concept of soul magic and interpretations on Horcruxes is unique and perfectly-executed. Honestly, everything Obsidian has ever written for HP is perfectly-executed. I would probably consider this the definitive Tomarry/Harrymort fic. Seriously.

It Cages a Demon by TripleX_Tyrant - Rick & Morty/C137cest/WIP - When Rick captures a powerful being from a demonic dimension - a demon with the ability to devour thoughts - Morty's consciousness is pulled into the demon's cage. Rick must go in after him before Morty's consciousness is completely consumed. But this isn't what the inside of the cage should look like. And if Rick wants to save Morty, he'll have to survive in a place where paths are unclear and monsters manifest.//Rick knew his own mind was complex. But he wasn't ready for this. - A goddamn Silent Hill-style horror mystery AU??????? FOR RICKMORTY? Yep, you heard me. And every second of it is liquid gold. It’s also gory as all fuck and pants-shittingly terrifying at times, so read at your own risk. But if you can risk it, please do. It’s honestly the best execution of C137cest I’ve seen outside of Harmon’s own damn writing lmao.

The Book of Secrets by Are - Downton Abbey/Thommy - With a war of words and wills, Jimmy Kent and Thomas Barrow embark on a strange romance. Set Post Christmas Special. - Thommy is another rare-ish (now, post-2016) pairing that I would die for. And everything Are has ever written for the pairing could kill me and I would thank it. But TBS is the best. Jimmy finds Thomas’ diary (and poetry book), which was also the diary (and sketchbook) of Courtenay before his passing, and learns more about his past and his innermost thoughts. It’s the most haunting, heartbreaking, poignant fic in the pairing. It ends well, but the journey you’ll take from the first chapter is one I would pay money to experience for the first time again. I literally couldn’t even breathe for a while after this. Lapsi’s fic has the same effect, so if you’ve worked through that one by now, be prepared.

Mad Man by griseldajane - MCU/Thorki - In all the years they spent together, it never occurred to Loki that there might be a time when Thor would not be available to him. The god of mischief conceals himself, coming and going as he pleases, doing what he wants.//That Thor might one day do the same never crossed his mind. - All the mindfuckery a Convinced-You-Were-in-an-Insane-Asylum-the-Whole-Time!fic entails and more. If you have issues with dissociating from reality, this is probably a bit much, because it absolutely nails everything about derealisation, delusional thinking, and paranoia. GOD, if you’re willing to let your mind take that battering, though, it’s a damn work of art.

Switch by Ceres_Libera - Star Trek/McKirk - The life and times of Leonard H. McCoy MD/PhD … If Leonard McCoy's life could get any fucking weirder, it would be … Jesus, he didn't even want to think what that could possibly mean, because it's already been too fucking weird to make any kind of rational sense.//A Starfleet Academy story, set in the ST:XI universe. - The ultimate McKirk fic imho. We’ll get to my ultimate Spirk fic in a second. Please do read this. It’s everything you could want out of an Academy!fic. Especially a roommates/UST!fic.

Black Mirror by DarthNickels - Star Wars/Gen - The Ghost crew returns to the Lothal when they hear the Empire is investigating the Jedi Temple there. They learn Vader is alone and decide to take him out-- but what they find could change the course of Galactic history. - What, you think I don’t read Gen? I read Gen!!!! Look at all this Gen I read. Put simply, Dad!Vader redemption arc set in the Rebels era. FUCKING,,, what more could I ask for,,, literally. What more?????????? Sci-fi mystery??? ASKING FOR MORE WHOMMMMMST’VE????

The Lotus Eaters by aldora89 - Star Trek/Spirk - Stranded on the planet Sigma Nox while searching for a missing away team, Spock and Kirk find themselves pitted against a disturbing native life form. With the captain out of commission on a regular basis and Spock struggling to preserve his stoicism, staying alive is difficult enough – but when a slim chance for escape surfaces, their resolve is truly put to the test. Together they must fight for survival in the heart of an alien jungle, and in the process, uncover the mystery of the planet’s past. Slow build K/S. - Here’s that aforementioned ultimate Spirk fic. Okay, what, it’s sci-fi mystery again. Give me a break. You just heard how much I would absolutely die for it. Seriously, there is no Spirk fic I adore more than this. I mean, I adore an absolute shittonne of Spirk fics, but this one is my raison d’etre.

In Good Company by weialala - Naruto/Sasunaru - This will sound a little ridiculous, no matter how Sasuke phrases it. I see dead people is embarrassingly tacky, and I'm half-spirit seems like something Sakura might say when she's stoned sky high. So he settles for a shrug. - Sasuke sees dead people. Sasuke bonds with the goddamn fae. Kuchiyose no Jutsu taken to the fucking max. An epic that does what The Last pretty much couldn’t. Shippuden who???

The Boy Who Died A Lot by starcrossedgirl - Harry Potter/Snarry - Harry’s always been known as The Boy Who Lived. Only Severus knows that this is a lie. (Or: a portrait of Severus Snape, in seven acts.) - Oh, there’s Snarry again. Bite me. This is my second (third? Tied with the White Road?) favourite Snarry fic. Time travel, almost Groundhog Day style. Severus has to go back and fix every mistake Harry makes that leads to his untimely death throughout the seven books. I honestly could believe this is what really happened, and we just don’t know otherwise because Rowling hasn’t deigned to make this shit up and put a woke spin on it yet.

Kisses Cursed by The_Fictionist - Harry Potter/Tomarry - Fairytale AU. Loosely inspired by Beauty and the Beast.//Some said he was once a man, cursed, and some that he sold his soul to demons and became one in turn. Others said that such evil as he could never have been human. That he was instead a nightmare, left lingering upon the earth a very long time ago.//Harry just knew it wasn't safe to walk near the Riddle House after dark. - Not just a fairytale AU, but a MYSTERY(!!!!) fairytale!AU. Okay, who’s gotten that I love mystery by now? This one is amazing, no matter how many puzzle pieces have slotted into place. The ride is a wild one and a great one. My second favourite Tomarry fic. I’d rank more of The_Fictionist’s higher, but they’ve deleted a lot of their old stuff, despite me absolutely adoring it.

United States v. Barnes, 617 F. Supp. 2d 143 (D.D.C. 2015) by fallingvoices & radialarch - MCU/Stucky - The Associated Press @AP//Winter Soldier set to stand trial for Washington D.C. massacre and treason apne.ws/1og6SWE - Both an epistolary/media fic and a case fic? Sign me tf up. Came out mere seconds (I exaggerate a little) after TWS, which I instantly fell in love with in theatres (still my fav MCU movie, folks). Details what a trial would be like for James Buchanan Barnes, should the MCU function more like real life, all in newspaper/tweet/blog form. Best way I’ve seen epistolary!fic formatted, tbh. Only on the AO3, huh?

The Mirror by cloudyjenn - Supernatural/Destiel - When Dean touches a strange mirror, he's whisked away to one alternate reality after another and it doesn't take him long to realize the universe is trying to tell him something. - I love dimension hopping. And it’s for my first ever hardcore fandom (besides Pokemon), too! I usually see dimension hopping more in sci-fi and superhero fandoms, so it was nice to see it in fantasy, too. A million alternate dimensions where Dean and Cas are in love. It’s definitely a message. :eyes emoji:

Stay With Me (home is where your mind is.) by sara_holmes - Marvel/Stony - Where Steve doesn’t quite die, ends up stranded in the multiverse and would quite like to know how the hell so many versions of himself ended up sleeping with Tony Stark. Well, that’s going to make things a tad awkward when he gets home. - Speaking of dimension hopping in superhero fandoms. This is honestly the most interesting way I’ve seen dimension hopping played out. Or rather, dimension consolidating. Steve ends up in a purgatory-style void populated only by other versions of himself from throughout the Multiverse. Like the Mirror, there’s definitely a message being sent here about how many versions of him are doing the do with a certain genius playboy billionaire philanthropist.

Thicker than Water by StarkatHeart - Marvel/Stony/Superfamily - Neither of them would admit it, but blood does count for something.//When Peter Parker discovers his biological father is actually none other than Tony Stark, it's not exactly news that's well received. By either party. But they're Avengers. They're teammates. They'll just have to work through it. ...Or maybe just ignore it. - On a completely different note from Starker, or not-so-different, depending on how depraved you like your fic to be flavoured, Peter as Tony’s biological son. This is pure Superfamily, not a hint of fucked up incest to be found. Though if anyone has any fucked up incest recs, I’m down to get my dirty paws on them.

the undiscovered country by indigostohelit - Shakespeare/Hamratio - It's 1959, and the mayor of Chicago is dead. - Remember how I said indigo had written some of my fav fics before? Yeah, 1950’s Americana!AU Hamlet, with added Hamratio. It is as good as it sounds.

All of astolat’s GoT and Thor works TBH. But please don’t pass up her Thorki, especially not Chaos War and Revelations.

Reaching as I Fall by apokteino - Supernatural/Destiel - “Service to God was the meaning of existence; service to Michael is nothing but slavery.” Castiel is part of an underground network helping angels fall, in resistance to heaven. At the same time that a fallen angel by the name of Dean Winchester turns up, some of those in the network are murdered by Michael’s forces – there’s a spy. What does Dean have to do with it? Who is Dean? And why are they hunting him so fiercely?//A story about love, family, and choice. - Let me introduce you to my favourite AU concept from all of SPN fandom. No, I won’t spoil it. Needless to say, I’ve tried to write it myself a thousand times, and only succeeded in a thousand false starts. Maybe one day I’ll get around to it. Plus, I always disagree with these authors, anyway. Dean is totally a bottom. ;P

I Got a Soul but I’m Not a Soldier by starandrea - Supernatural/Destiel - AU: Castiel is on the road (saving people, helping things) when he meets Dean and realizes that his soul is different - and not just because he's the pastor's son. - Here it is again, my favourite trope (well, I’d call it a trope, if there were more than a dozen or so fics for it). If you haven’t read RAIF, I’m wondering if you’ve caught on yet. ;P.

Chosen Man by Sineala - The Eagle/Marcus x Esca - The son of the man who lost the Eagle of the Ninth would never be allowed a first command of his very own fort, would he?//Marcus is posted not to Isca Dumnoniorum, but to a wretched and run-down garrison north of the Wall. There he finds that he is the new centurion of a group of scouts and spies, all of them British. He has few supplies and no experience. His men distrust him. His superiors despise him. His second-in-command is an incompetent drunkard. And the local tribes are determined to kill all of them.//But the worst thing of all is one of Marcus' soldiers. He is an enigmatic, dangerous, and insubordinate man by the name of Esca, who makes Marcus yearn for terrifying things he has never before wanted and can never, ever let himself have… - Sine pretty much engineered the Eagle fandom.

I followed them from the Eagle and into all their other ventures, too, and when they started writing for Stony I practically screamed in excitement. PLEASE read their Stony, if it’s the only Stony you ever read.

The Leonardo Effect by Phoenike - Assassin’s Creed/EzioLeo - To Ezio’s best knowledge, Leonardo's idea of debauchery was staying up until morning with a bottle of wine and too many sketching supplies. But why would the gondolier have lied? It was a heavy accusation. In both Firenze and Venezia, mere allegations of unnatural conduct had condemned men to be pilloried or hanged. - My favourite EzioLeo fic of all time. Everything Phoe has ever written is a gem, but this one takes the cake. Have I said that already? A lot of cake is being taken. Please read. It’s the epitome of what makes EzioLeo good.

Naked to Mine Enemies by mundungus42 - Pirates of the Caribbean/Sparrington - The Pirate Code doesn't expressly command its adherents to repay debts that bridge life and death, but the Code is more of a set of guidelines, anyway. Sparrow/Norrington, set after At World's End, ignores all films released thereafter. - A classic fic for a classic ship. My ship pun both is and isn’t intended. I’d read this one over and over. Okay, I already do. Whenever I go back to Sparrington, I go back to this.

The Persistence of Iron by Sylvia - Marvel/X-Men Cinematic Universe/Cherik - Waking up in a lab with no memories and a blue-eyed stranger calling him by someone else's name is only the beginning of Erik's problems.- Sci-fi mystery. You don’t need to ask me to clarify at this point, do you? Cloning tech? CLONING TECH? DE-AGING CLONING TECH? So many favourite tropes.

Take the Heat Out of Me by quipquipquip - DCU/Jaydick - Lost Days!Jason trolls Officer Grayson!Dick in Blüdhaven. Dick counter-trolls with the power of love. (It's super effective.) - A classic Jaydick fic. I think it was quip’s last foray into fic. Under that name, at least. What a bang to go out with.

Don’t Quote Me by TKodami - DCU/Superbat/WIP - Bruce Wayne has weathered scandal before, and Wayne Enterprises can handle another publicity crisis. What Bruce can’t handle is one crashing up against his plans to infiltrate Lex’s estate. Set during Batman v. Superman. - There’s that more Superbat. I’m sure… one day… the author will finish it. It’s a goddamn sex tape scandal!fic. Glorious.

Speaking of, every Superbat fic by Liodain.

In This White Wave I Am Sinking by queeniegalore - Generation Kill/Bradray - He felt like he wasn’t really living, like he was in an in-between state, something that came between war and real life, something like purgatory. - The atmosphere for this is consistently beautiful and bittersweet.

Okay, that’s about it for now. Save for an honourable mention to one of the fics that I started off with in the SPN fandom. I’d honour some more, but most everything’s been purged at this point. Come on, 2012!fandom, stop hiding behind how “cringe” you think shit was. I want my fic back.

Pull Me Under by AwesomeDistractions -- a Destiel handprint!kink WIP.

And finally, the most honourable mention, the first slash fic I ever read, from the Pokemon fandom, of all places. Originalshipping horror/mystery!AU. Wow, my tastes have always been, well, my tastes. Believe it or not, best place I can find it is a Waybackmachine archive of a creepypasta uploading site that went defunct a while back. I never found out the original author. But here it is, Missing, the first ever slash fic I stumbled across.

If you guys want more, I can definitely provide more. I have thousands of bookmarks. These are just my very, very favourites. What ones are still remaining on AO3, anyway. This is why I save most in PDFs. Though there are a few completely lost to time, and I’m pretty sure the OTW says fuck you to Waybackmachine, which. Uhghgh. Please. I want my nostalgia rush back.

#long post #pro shipping #pro ship #anti anti #anti anti shipping #fic recs #fic rec #reclist #recs #enjoy!!!!!#this took me all night sjkfsokldjlk

39 notes · View notes