#abusers keeping your confidence down to stop you from escaping

[furiousgoldfish]

When I was a little kid, I asked my mother 'What does a child need to survive in a desert?'. She wouldn't give me a straight answer, so I had to pull it out of her bit by bit. Would a child live if they had fruit? 'That's not enough', she said. Would it work if the child had milk? 'Maybe'. I kept asking what else, and then she put the dots together, and figured out why I was asking. 'Children can't survive without their mother', she told me curtly. I frowned, not liking this response. 'But, if they had fruit and milk?' I insisted. 'No. Child can't survive without a mother. Don't even think about it.'

But, I was thinking about it, and she knew it. She knew I was trying to find a way to escape the house we were living in. I was 6, maybe 7 at the time. She repeated over and over to me, you would die outside this house. Nobody else would take you in, there's no place for you anywhere else. You would only be a burden.

I didn't like that. I didn't like the idea of being a burden anywhere. But, I supposed she was right, other people didn't need a stray kid.

In my quest of not being a burden, I wanted to learn how to work. In the house I lived in, there were countless chores to be done, but somehow I was always stuck with the ones that required no knowledge or skill. Put the logs over there, clean, carry this over there, sweep, scrub, throw, wash, dig, gather, relocate, hold, lift, put down, bury, shut up, and don't ask questions. I wouldn't get any answers even if I did ask, why am I doing this, whats it for? I wasn't to know. I was kept blind, following orders, up to myself to figure out what was this a part of.

When I'd be ordered to do something I didn't know how, I would be told I 'should have learned it by watching others do it', but I was never free to watch while others worked. In fact, if anyone in the house was doing anything, and I was sitting or lying down, I would be screamed at for 'just watching others work and doing nothing'.

Reaching adulthood, I really wanted to know about cooking, but mother always chased me out of the kitchen if she was making something, or she would chore me with 'peeling the vegetables', which would then take all of my attention. I tried to sneak into the kitchen and learn by myself, but she chased me away as soon as she'd catch me, telling me off for 'wasting resources'. But, as she noticed my inclination, she decided to inform me, in a very clear manner, that I would never in my life know how to cook. You see, I was clumsy, slow, stupid, and would always only mess it up and waste precious ingredients. It was far above my abilities to learn how to cook. She gave me a clove of garlic to cut, and I couldn't do it well on my first try. She told me it was a proof that I was 'no good'. Then she gave me an onion to cut, and yelled at me for 'taking too long'. Now it was proven twice over. I couldn't cook. Everything would be ruined because I was taking too long to cut the vegetables. Also, I didn't know where food was even stored in the kitchen. She would never show me. (The food was stored in boxes in the basement. I would find out years later.)

With a heavy heart, I gave up on learning how to cook, and resigned myself to feeling forever guilty for 'eating their food', which was something my family regularly held over my head. You know, after I helped digging, working the soil, sowing, planting, weeding and spraying, it was still their land, and their food, and I 'had no right to it'. They were careful never to show me how to actually grow food, but just kept me busy with menial tasks that were never explained to me.

I was convinced my mother was a good person, because she usually wouldn't forbid me to eat, and if she wanted me to do a task, she would tell me in a humane way. For example 'Can you do x?'. The other family members had a more crude way, something like 'Why are you waiting to be told, do I have to spell out everything to you??' so her polite manner had completely won me over, I would have done anything for my sickly, poor, kind and generous mother, who was so worried for my troubled self, who couldn't learn how to do anything, or survive outside the house.

Even though my mother repeated through the years, that I would never be able to do anything, and also berated me if I ever tried to learn a new skill because 'it was worthless and wouldn't earn me any money', I would still sometimes gather a bit of momentum and courage, and figure hey, I should try to get a job. It would take months to gather that kind of confidence. And one such time, I announced my intentions, I'm going to look for a job! My mother laughed without looking at me. 'Who would hire you? You can't do anything.' Poof. That was my balloon of confidence, popping and then deflating into a tiny bulb. I didn't think she had any reason to lie to me. She knew me all my life. If she was confident that I can't do anything... then it had to be true. Otherwise why would she say that?

The rest of the family, of course, agreed. My grandmother, she had fantastic stories to share with me about how quickly I would be kidnapped, robbed, murdered, tortured, sold into slavery, you know all that good stuff that happens to every person outside their parents house. My father, who inherited massive amounts of land, 2 houses, illegally got his hands on a third, earned a very formidable salary, and constantly had me working for free for him, told me that it was in fact, impossible for a person to survive out there without inheritance. I frowned because I didn't agree with this, and I asked, what about the people who get a job and move into the city? They were living just from their wages. He shook his head and said that it may look like that, but they're all just living from their family's resources. I was old enough to not believe him. It's him who couldn't live without his inheritance, because he's an idiot, I thought.

So, I finally got to earn some money online. It was slow, and very tiny amount, I was freelancing and there was no consistent income, but my enthusiasm on being able to earn anything, was strong. After all, I had earned absolutely nothing working for my family for forever, and this was mine. I remember securing a big project and rushing to reassure my mother, to tell her that I was in fact, good for something, and she didn't have to worry anymore, I was going to make something of myself.

'You will never get another project again.' Her face was dead serious. 'You were lucky once. Don't count on this happening again'. I was speechless. Self doubt swallowed me whole. Was this only one-time occurrence? Was I stupid to believe it would happen again? I despaired. She was my mother, and she was older than me, and she knew the world better than I did. She wouldn't say this for no reason. Could she be right?

She brought it up to the rest of the family, and they all had things to say about it. 'Online work isn't real. The money doesn't even exist. You'll never see it. Show us where is this money. You can't, can you? And even if it does exist, it will all get stolen from you'.

Leaving me wrapped in my survival panic attack, they went on with their day, satisfied that they put me back in my place (which was an ongoing panic attack). I eventually recovered, and continued to work on projects. I was approached and told I would fail constantly, but even then, what could I do but work with my anxiety levels up to the roof and wait to fail? I had to try.

I didn't believe I would make it, because my mother's words 'you'll die, you'll die' were on repeat in my head, but I realized I would die in that house anyway, so I ran away from home. My mother was worried about me; she was in fact, so worried she called every person who knew me, all of friends, relatives, their kids, and told them about how badly worried she was for me, and how I needed to come back home. These people, well they were all worried too you see, so they had to call me, to tell me that I'm breaking my mother's heart, that I don't know how it feels to have a child and not know if their child is okay, apparently she was crying every time it rained because she thought I might be outside in the rain.

My guilt was activated, but I knew just what to do to resolve this situation. I responded to my mother's call, and she told me too, that she was dying from worry, so I said, listen! Listen to what I have! And I went around the apartment, and I listed all of the groceries I had bought and stored. I listed everything out to her, and then explained how to make multiple meals, I offered proof to her that I had already, in this short time, learned how to cook, and I was doing fine. I was sure she'd be so relieved to know that her child had food.

In my mind we were continuing the conversation we had when I was six. I have milk and fruit now mommy. You said I might survive if I have that.

'Okay, we KNOW you can do everything yourself--' She interrupted me angrily, unwilling to listen to my ongoing list of resources and skills. I froze. '--but you need to think about what you're doing to us and come back home!'

I hung up. Unbelieving. Two things I've been told in that sentence, and I had a hard time believing either. She- they- KNEW I could do everything myself. Since when? For how long? How could she possibly say this, after telling me my whole life, not only that I didn't know anything, but was too stupid to even learn? She knew I was capable the entire time? She knew I'd do just fine? And, she was angry about it. Hearing the list of resources and skills I had, it made her livid. After crying to all these people, and convincing me she was dying out of worry, she wasn't worried even one little bit. It was all fake. The entire time. She could either tell I was capable the entire time, or.. she never cared enough to even tell. It didn't matter. It only mattered that she convinced me that I can't survive. So I wouldn't run. So I would stay in that house, and so she could watch her violent husband, and violent mother in law beat me and call me animal names. While blocking my only possible exit.

Later I found out she changed her story. She was now telling people that I was now 'rich but so selfish I would not give any of my money to her'. It was almost funny. Her perspective of me rapidly shifted from 'incapable idiot who cannot survive' to 'selfish rich snob who won't give money'.

It stung. I had spent my life trying to protect her. Even after running, all I could think was how badly I wanted to take her away from that violent place, how much I wanted happiness for her. She watched me dying in that house and blocked my exit. She threw me back into the hands of violence and cheered them on as they broke me. She watched a kid being broken and told that kid they could not live, except if they stay and continue being broken, over and over again. I got jealous of all of the mothers who helped their kids escape. And of all the kids whose mothers escaped, taking them with. Keeping them safe. Why wasn't I worth keeping safe? But I can't look back in that way. That's not it. There was nobody to keep me safe. Nobody was my mother. Nobody was my parent.

My six year old self reached their goal. What does a child need to survive in a desert? Some fruit. And some milk. And some other groceries also don't hurt. And definitely not a mother like this one.

#abusive mother #recognizing abuse #cruelty concealed as worry #escape sabotage #mother keeping a child trapped in abuse #using a child as a shield from violence #abusers keeping your confidence down to stop you from escaping #abusers lying through their teeth #child abuse #survival resources #toxic family #toxic mother #i don't even know what her deal is #but her cruelty crushed me

[rubra-wav]

Hello! I saw asks were open and I wanted to drop a request! What if Husk, Angeldust, and Alastor (separate) had a s/o who revealed that they could break deals on their (the collared's) end given some time?

Husk, Angel Dust and Alastor with a Dealbreaker S/O

[Part 2]

A/N: Alastor's is written as purely platonic tho per my personal boundaries

My Hazbin OC actually is a powerful Dealbreaker, so I'm going off of the lore I've thought up on this topic for him haha

I will maybe write a part 2 where reader actually manages to break the contracts rather than just saying they could.

CW: Sfw, angsty asf in places, reference to addiction, mention/reference to violence, Angel's touches a bit more on abuse response/trauma response type stuff, body/ horror imagery in Alastor's (Alastor being the creature he is basically)

Husk

- Husk would not believe you at all at first.

- He would be tending the bar and then stop mid-drying a glass as a heartbreaking hint of hope (the first hope he'd felt in centuries) passes over his face for a second before crumpling and turning to extreme bitterness.

- "That's not funny." He'd growl through grit teeth at you, thinking it was some kind of cruel joke.

- When reassured that you are absolutely serious, he gives you more of a look of almost pity, sighing as if deeply tired.

- He tells you that multiple people have told him the same thing over the years, and that they have all failed just the same.

- All skilled people who were known to be able to break even soul ownership deals wide open.

- The leash Alastor had on him was air-tight.

- He basically tells you it would be a giant waste of time and that you should give up and focus your time on something better then a poor old sinner like himself.

- When you don't back down from the discouragement, he sighs again, but feels warmth burning in his chest at the fact you wanted to help him so badly.

- He's not hopeful, but he wants to have faith in you even if he's trying to discourage you and scare you straight as much as possible.

- He wants so badly to be free so he can be with you without any limits of his commitment to you and only you. To not have to think about whether he's going to be summoned to some bullshit getup again whenever Alastor gets bored of the Hazbin Hotel.

- Deep down he's absolutely desperate for you to succeed in your mission.

- He wants the catalyst for his alcohol problem to go away so he can live and finally actually be happy without the heaviness of his deal weighing on him at all times, making him desperately need the escape.

- He absolutely will tell you very very seriously to not to let this slip that you're doing this to anybody though - or talk about this in a place you aren't absolutely confident doesn't have any certain member of the hotel listening in.

- Husk doesn't think that Alastor would harm you physically over this, that asshole would probably just find it amusing. However.

- Husk's worst fear would be you trying to get him his soul back by signing away yours, something very possible Alastor would offer as a trick.

- He'd be skeptical, fearful of you succumbing to a deal with Alastor, and not very hopeful at all as he's tried time and time again to break the contract on his soul. You are so... optimistic that you'll find a way, but again, his collar is air-tight. You'll have your work cut out for you breaking the deal of someone who's notoriously a dealmaker.

Angel Dust

- When you tell him that, he tenses up with a sharp inhale of breath, a complete 180 from how he just was seconds before, winding down from his night in his hotel room with you.

- Angel's deal would be logically way more easier to break. However, what Valentino's deal doesn't directly hold of Angel, the moth's manipulation keeps him stuck imprisoned under him.

- Angel absolutely would have thought of contacting a dealbreaker, however never actually would due to how terrified he is. If it turned out one of those people were a mole for Val trying to catch him out, Angel would be in so much pain from the punishment that that would entail. You cannot trust someone claiming to be a dealbreaker in hell isn't lying to you through their teeth.

- When he realises you are absolutely serious though, and obviously confident in your abilities, a myriad of harsh emotions pass across Angel's face. Fear (for both his and your safety), and hope made themselves the most apparent.

- Fear of what Val would do to him if he ever found out about this conversation. What he'd do to you.

- Valentino was certainly not above hurting people to get his way. Angel knew that better then anybody. But if Val ever caught wind that Angel's secret lover behind the scenes was trying to steal away Val's biggest money maker and favourite toy, he'd kill you. Straight up.

- That fear was there and was deeply terrifying to him. But so was the hope. A flurry of hope that fills him with relief and brings tears pricking at his eyes at the idea that he could actually be free of his captor and go do whatever you two decide and be fully happy without fear of Val.

- Live with you not as Angel Dust, but as Anthony. Completely his real, authentic self.

- "How." He whispers breathlessly.

- You tell him that you need to see the contract itself, analyse all the ins and outs and come up with a counter-contract.

- There would be a few ways you could actually break the deal from there, and although they would be time consuming and possibly (very much probably) dangerous, you were confident you could break him out.

- Angel would be extremely fearful, but also hopeful. You seem confident in your ability as his contract is messy and poorly crafted. He's reassured as you say that what's mostly chaining him down is the psychological control Val has over him.

Alastor

- When you tell Alastor this, I feel he could respond two ways depending on how you've learnt that information.

If he hasn't told you himself:

- If he hasn't told you this or doesn't know how you've found out, he's going to be absolutely pissed. At you and probably Husk (assuming Husk told you)

- He'd turn towards you with jerky, unnatural movements, bones and joints cracking loudly in a cringe worthy way. Overhead, the lights would be flickering as static begins to fill your head.

- Towering over you, he'd be still bent in that weird position as he grips sharpened claws into your shoulders. Your friendship is the only thing keeping him from making you nothing more then a stain on the wall.

- "Who told you about that."

- When you tell how you've found out, he likely let's out a chuckle dripping with anger that makes you want to cover your ears as the sound scrapes into them. "And what makes you think you could do what even I cannot?"

- He has analysed every single last clause, letter, meaning of the words used, every possible loophole in his contract to the point it's driven him to have multiple psychological breakdowns. To him there is no doubt in his mind at all that he's completely fucked by the contract he was tricked into and there's no chance in hell that you would ever be able to even assist.

- When you push and say that you want to do this for him, he's not even a little flattered at all, in fact, it bruises his ego massively that you'd have the audacity to confidently imply you could do what he's worked so hard to for 7 years.

- In instance one, he's incredibly pissed off at you for claiming you could ever undo his contract after learning about it from someone other then him, so angry he almost kills you. Leaves you alone shaking and afraid in the hall telling you not to say anything to anybody else about his deal, and to never so flagrantly exaggerate your own worth so massively again. Your prior confidence stamped down to embers.

If you are close enough of a person to him that he's confided in you about his collar however:

- He'd just chuckle, calling it cute that you thought you could do that while walking away.

- You miss the way his eye twitches.

- He'd still be incredibly angry about it, but due to not being surprised you knew of his biggest secret, he'd hide it much better.

- Continues to laugh when you insist you can do it, and would passive aggressively respond about how you should not overestimate your abilities and mind your own business essentially.

- Again, he's pissed off and his ego is bruised about it. But this time, he's hiding it behind his smile and is passive aggressive as fuck about it rather then outwardly aggressive. He won't let you know how much you've actually gotten to him even though he would have let his walls down to some extent to ever tell you that.

A/N I was actually already planning a fully written x reader fic that's not just the dot points with Angel at some point where reader saves him from his contract, so like... Maybe I'll do full fics for dealbreaking Husk and Alastor's contracts as well because I'm kind of interested in exploring a fic w them after writing this now

(I'm probably gonna say this then eat shit via the universe straight after lmfao 💀)

#hazbin hotel #husk x reader #hazbin hotel husk #angel dust x reader #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader #this was actually so cool to write thank you for requesting this one

[judyx526]

Genya Shinazugawa NSFW Alphabet

Note: I normally don’t post on Tumblr at all. But I noticed a lack of Genya fan fiction and it seems a lot of people feel this way, so I made a simple one. Genya is 4+ years older for this, so he’s around 20-21. This is 18+ kids... I know where to find you. 

A=Aftercare(what they’re like after sex)

The king of aftercare. He makes sure you’re taken care of and comfortable. Always grabs a damp towel and water after doing the deed. Need more pillows and blankets? You name it and he’ll grab it. Want to soak in the bath? Man’s booking it with you in his arms to the bathroom. Considering his father was an abusive jackass to his own mother and did more harm than good, so he’ll do anything to take care of you.

 ---

“Are.. Ahem are you alright?” Genya croaked

After catching your breath, your hands soothed their way into his thick hair. A smile graced your lips as you nodded, “Yeah… I am a little thirsty though.”

He stared at you for a moment then set his forehead on yours and responded with “Alright..”

Within minutes, Genya was running a warm, damp towel along your thighs and stomach while you drank some water. Once you were finished, you gently stopped him from overcleaning and pulled him into an embrace, a small blush evident on his cheeks as you pressed his face against your chest. The man was asleep in seconds as you massaged his scalp, and pressed kisses to his head.

B=Body Part(their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

On himself, he likes his arms. Despite not having the best confidence in himself, he knows he can depend on his strength, whether it be to protect or please you.

On you, he loves your neck and thighs. Though he’ll never admit it out loud, he loves leaving marks on both spots. Especially on your thighs. There’s just something about biting and sucking on such sensitive areas that drives him crazy and makes him want to leave more than intended.

---

Your legs were starting to cramp from how long he’d been holding them on top of his shoulders. Even so, it was undeniable that Genya was enjoying himself and taking his time leaving hickies on your plump thighs. Despite the awkward position, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop him because of how good his teeth felt on your skin. With a small tug on his hair, his dark eyes met yours with a hint of concern. A hum escaped your throat as you nudged his face closer to your entrance with a blush. Red enveloped his cheeks before pulling your hips closer to his face. This man was truly gonna be the death of you.

C=Cum

Most of the time, on your stomach or back. There’s something about making a mess of you that makes him go feral. Half the time, it’s what gets him going for another round.

However, every once in a while, he’ll release inside you and watch in awe as his cum seeps out. You always giggle a bit at his fascination with the staring, but you love it either way. You love seeing him go crazy from it, even if you end up walking funny later.

---

“Enjoying the view, love?”

Genya jolted a bit at the comment before muttering an apology.

“Don’t say sorry. I like it too.”

“Ah.. good to know.”

D=Dirty Secret

There’s not much Genya will keep from you, after all he promised to always be honest. However, he has had thoughts of you taking control over him more than usual. I.E. tying down his hands and feet while you have your way with him. Watching you ride him time and time again always gets his heart racing and his imagination running wild.

One other secret is the fact he likes it up the ass. How he found out was by pure accident. He was on top of you when your hand traveled down his back to grab his ass cheek and a couple of your fingers dipped into his hole. He didn’t even think you realized what you were doing considering how tight your grip was on his plump ass. Afterward when he happened to be on a solo mission, he reached down and tried it for himself. Let’s just say his face was beet red after. Overtime, he’s been working up the courage to ask you about it, but he gets too flustered by the time you’re in front of him. One day he’ll tell you. Hopefully.

E=Experience(how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

This is Genya we’re talking about, the man blushes whenever he interacts with girls period. He was surprised with being able to pull you for himself. Once you had reached that critical point in your relationship where you two were getting a little too touchy, he was embarrassed to admit he’d never had sex before. But you didn’t blame him. Being in the Demon Slayer Corps didn’t grant either of you time to have that pleasure, even if it was for yourselves. However, the first time you two had sex was truly a once in a lifetime experience.

---

“Um, Genya?”

“Y-Yeah?”

“Can.. Can you kiss me for a minute? Please?”

His only response was to stare then place his lips on yours and rest his hips on yours. A moan hummed in your throat as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and legs around his hips. You felt one of his calloused palms cradle your face as the kiss became more passionate. Even knowing how strong he was, it made your heart swell with how gentle he was with you.

A few minutes later, you whispered his name and pulled away, cradling his face.

“Be gentle, okay?”

He simply nodded with a small smile then pecked your lips once more.

F=Favorite Position

You might as well be asking him to choose between you and his favorite meal. He can never truly pick a favorite position; however, he does have a top three:

1) Cowgirl

2) Missionary

3) Upstanding Citizen[basically fucking you against the wall]

He does have a weak spot for doggystyle, especially when he’s got a lot of energy and his confidence is higher than usual. He feels bad when you can’t feel your legs after, but you have no qualms or objection when he’s rougher. It’s a big turn on actually.

---

This was the third round, and you two were just getting started. You had been separated for almost a month due to a really important mission he was assigned. Shinobu had just released him from the hospital as most of his injuries were healed. Your grip on his hair was almost terrifying as he held your thighs open and thrusted into you, pressing you back against the wooden wall. His face was buried into your neck with your head arched back.

“O-Oh! God, Genya… Right there!”

“Fuck…! I missed you so much, baby..”

His teeth attached themselves to your throat, causing a loud moan to echo through the room.

You had a lot of catching up to do.

G=Goofy(are they serious all the time or will they make you laugh?)

Genya has always been a serious man, just like his brother. That includes when you’re having sex.

But every once in a while, he’ll end up making you giggle while trying to be all stoic. It’s unintended, of course. However, if it makes you happy, he won’t mind. Your laugh is the music to his ears.

---

“Heh.. G-Genya…” you utter out as you try not to laugh at the state of his wild hair nearly covering his eyes.

“Ah shit..” he cursed at himself as he tried to fix the mop of hair, slightly irritated he didn’t tie it up.

“It’s… It’s okay, love.. Pfft, r-really..”

“But you’re laughing!”

“Because it’s adorable!”

“I’m not supposed to be adorable, damnit!”

A laugh erupted from your chest as you held your stomach. You truly didn’t mean it, but his flustered attempts to make himself all serious for your sake was a bit comical. Genya made a move to get up with a huff but you grabbed his arm and pulled him into your embrace with a giggle.

“I promise it’s okay. I love it when you’re like this. You don’t have to be perfect for me. I love you for you.”

A small blush rushed to his cheeks before he pouted in defeat and muttered “Thanks..”

H=Hair(are they well-groomed?)

Even before he met you, he always made it a rule to keep himself well kept and clean. He’s an overall clean person despite his condition to consume demons. Genya keeps himself trimmed and well-groomed, though there are times he completely shaved off all the hair.

On you; however, he could care less if you were as smooth as a baby’s bum or as hairy as a bush, it won’t keep his oral fixation down. He’ll eat you out till you crush his head and suffocate him. ‘A hell of a way to die’ as Sanemi put it.

I=Intimacy(how are they in the moment?)

Considering how touch-starved he was when you two started seeing each other, the ‘intimacy’ was nonexistent to him. Slowly, you introduced him to it through holding his fingers and gently massaging his scalp. He practically fell asleep the first time he laid in your lap as you messed with his hair.

When it comes to sex, it came naturally to him. Simply from watching you be gentle with him of all things. Pressing his forehead to yours. Holding your hand. Checking in to make sure you’re okay. Hell, running his hands along your body to massage the aches out of your muscles. He loves doing it. He needs to be as close to you as physically possible.

J=Jack-Off(do they masturbate often?)

Genya can be a bit prideful, but not overly prideful. He understands his body has needs. But it doesn’t mean he’ll masturbate every single time. This is a man trained to be in control and calm at all times.

He won’t get himself off unless it’s truly unbearable. And even then, he tries to restrain himself until he’s with you again. He’s almost always in danger, he’d rather take his chances waiting for you. He cherishes every moment he spends with you.

K=Kink

Overall, Genya isn’t too kinky. He likes to keep things simple. The kinks he does have are truly stimulating.

1) Breeding Kink - This one is pretty obvious considering he loves watching his cum leak out of you. The thought of you being full with his kids isn’t a common thought, but a very tempting one.

2) Biting/Marking Kink - Another obvious one, afterall he leaves hickies all over your thighs, shoulders, and neck. Simply put: if someone sees them, it simply means ‘fuck off, she’s taken’ to any potential single man.

3) Choking Kink - When I mean choking kink, I mean it very mildly. Sometimes, he simply likes to hold onto your throat while he fucks you. However, he makes it a point for you to tell him if he’s squeezing you too much. Which thankfully hasn’t happened. Like I said, this guy has a lot of control over his strength.

4) Slight Manhandling Kink - In simple terms, he likes to hold your hands above your head and even toss you a bit. But only if you’re comfortable with it. This one is very slight as it only happens when he really needs to get his energy, and even frustration, out. 

L=Location(where do they like to have sex?)

Genya prefers to keep your sex lives in the bedroom. It’s the most private you guys can get and he wants to keep it that way. And again, he has a lot of self-control. You, on the other hand, have tested his patience a couple times.

There was only one time he fucked you outside the comfort of your bedroom. You two had a couple of drinks, and you thought it would be a good idea to tease him. He proceeded to fuck you behind a tree. He won’t admit it out loud, but it was a little fun.

M=Motivation(what turns them on, gets them going?)

He doesn’t need too much motivation when it comes to you. Just say the word and he’ll have you on your back in seconds. Then again, Genya always makes it a point to ask you if you were sure. Your consent is all he needs.

N=NO(something they will not do)

Genya will absolutely never inflict any pain on you. Too many people in this world suffer in pain every day. When he wants to have sex with you, he wants both of you to feel good. Period.

Despite it happening once, Genya is still firm in his belief to keep your sex lives in the bedroom. No one else needs to see you two in such a vulnerable position.

O=Oral(giving or receiving?are they good at it?)

When I tell you this man has an oral fixation, it’s almost always like he’s dying of thirst. He is a natural giver. Want you to sit on his face 24/7. Half the time you guys get intimate, it consists mostly of Genya with his face between your legs. There is a reason he has a strong jaw and sense of taste. Sometimes he gets a little ahead of himself and overstimulates you. But you love it. It just requires a small break in between rounds sometimes.

When it comes to receiving oral from you; however, Genya turns into an absolute blushing, blubbering mess. Tries not to cum too quickly, but you don’t mind. In fact, you try to get him to release a few times from your hands and mouth before actualling fucking. It’s when you use your tongue that truly drives him insane. Like he’s fisting your hair and almost throat fucking you(poor baby always worries about hurting you tho).

---

Delicate fingers tug on Genya’s hair as his tongue laps up your folds, his thumb rubbing your clit in circles. This was your third go around and the stimulation was starting to overwhelm your senses. He was always so insatiable when it came to tasting you. His grip on your hips and thighs were the only thing keeping you steady as you sat atop his face. You really wanted to treat him as well, but he refused to accept the praise until you’ve cum on his tongue at least four times. Truly vigorous this man.

“Genya….” You moaned and whimpered as your hips moved back and forth against his mouth.

“Fuck.. Fuck me, you taste amazing.” he mumbled on your folds

If this was heaven, he wanted to stay forever.

P=Pace(are they fast and rough? or slow and sensual?)

It really depends. Most of the time, he wants to take his time with you. Passionate and sensual is the definition of a perfect night for you two.

On days he’s feeling extra spicy, he won’t hesitate to fuck the shit out of you. He will hold your hips so hard there will be handprints on your skin later. I’m talking there will be accessories and decorations shattered on the floor. Clothes? Torn to shreds. Furniture? Will be broken and replaced

Side Note: He feels embarrassed afterward and worries if he hurt you, but you’re a giggling mess. So, you just hold onto him and tell him you like that side of him. He blushes and accepts the affection.

Q=Quickie

Pretty much nonexistent. Like I said, this man does not like having sex with you out in the open. The time behind the tree was a one time thing.

Aside from the obvious, he doesn’t just want to pull you into some closet like a dirty secret. He wants to caress you, hold you, and kiss you as if it’s his last night on earth.

R=Risk

Don’t need to reiterate. He will not risk anything that includes exposing or hurting either of you. You are the most important person in his life[aside from Sanemi] and that is all anyone needs to know. 

S=Stamina(how many rounds can they go?)

Remember how I mentioned he prefers to have you cum on his tongue at least four times before the main event?Yeah, that doesn’t even count. 

It’ll start out slow and sensual like usual, but he’s rubbing your clit half the time. He likes it when you two finish together. This can go for three rounds without breaks. 

He’ll clean you up with his tongue, but not to overstimulate you. He just really likes to eat you out. 

The last two to three rounds, he gets a bit excited and thrusts with more passion than before. He’ll cum before you do but he’ll keep going until you cum one more time. 

Overall, he can last about five to six rounds. Even on days he’s tired. He will not stop until you are satisfied.

T=Toys[modern headcanon]

Personally, I believe he would have a small collection of toys. A couple vibrators[for both you and himself], dildos[mainly for him ;)], and some handcuffs and rope. We all know he secretly likes it up the ass.

U=Unfair(do they tease you? do they like to be teased?)

Genya doesn’t necessarily like to tease you. He sees no point to it as he simply wants to please you, not torment you. 

As for himself, he doesn’t care for it. He won’t mind if you tease him a little bit, but he’s grateful you don’t. You will please each other till kingdom come. 

V=Volume(how loud are they during sex)

Genya isn’t too loud. He mainly grunts and groans in your ear. However, if you touch and scratch him in the right places, he’ll whimper fairly loudly. You can’t help but smirk a bit from it, but you never bring it up since it’ll embarrass him.

W=Wild Card

This is mostly circumstantial as it pertains to the type of demon he’s consumed. His demonic abilities fade away within hours; however, there were a few times the demons he ate affected his tongue.

Long story short, the demon had a forked tongue. Normally, that sort of thing wouldn’t affect him, but for some reason, this time it did. The morning Genya came back from his mission, he woke you up with a bit of a surprise. You were louder than usual as he tongued you. Having a forked tongue inside was a whole different experience. Apparently, Genya forgot all about it and was just going along with it out of habit.

X=X-Ray

Genya is a big guy. Bigger than his older brother[who denies it]. It’s safe to say he’s on the bigger spectrum overall.

He’s five and a half inches soft and almost seven inches when hard. He’s mostly long and a bit veiny. One vein runs along the underside of his dick, which is sensitive when you glide your tongue along it.

Y=Yearning(how high is their sex drive?)

His sex drive was nonexistent before he met you. After though? He wishes he could have you 24/7. But he doesn’t show it, he’s a gentleman after all. He must show he has self-control around you.

Z=Zzz(how fast do they fall asleep afterward?)

After making sure both of you have been taken care of, Genya almost always falls asleep right away. The sex plus all the fighting and training that comes with being a Demon Slayer takes a toll on his mind and body. So, the fact he can sleep in the arms of the person he loves is all he can ask for at the end of the day.

---

The soft snores from your lover’s lips were music to your ears as you ran your fingers along his back up to his scalp. A smile spread across your face before closing your eyes and humming.

“I love you, Genya… More than you’ll ever know.”

_____

Hope you guys enjoyed!

#genya shinazugawa #genya smut #genya x reader #demon slayer #kimestu no yaiba #genya shinazugawa x reader #smut

[the-californicationist]

he hunts you down

Captain John Price is recruiting for the 141, and when he takes you on a field exercise to the middle of the woods, you try to show him that you have what it takes to survive.

This is Part 1 of 2. If y’all are interested in a Part 2, it’s here. Or, you can read it in full on AO3.

MDNI/18+

TW: primal play, dubcon, abuse of power

AO3 Link

The sun was setting through the verdant green leaves of the trees, beams of light sparkling through them, casting light and shadow on the forest floor as you raced through the underbrush. You were bending your feet, sprinting in the way that he had taught you, nearly silent as you leapt across rotting boughs and piles of fallen leaves. Controlling your breathing, you found a tight pace - fast enough to escape, but restrained enough to withstand it for a generous duration. The air felt sharp in your throat.

Captain Price had taken you on as the newest recruit to the 141. Many recruits had come before you, and many had failed to pass muster. So, here you were, top of your class in Westpoint, but young and unblooded, trying to keep up with the most fearsome group of hunters in the modern world. Terrorists filled the world with fear, and John Price filled them with fear in turn. He was the monster’s monster, and you were desperate for him.

When you’d first laid eyes on him, you were intimidated by his sharp confidence. He was snappy, impatient, but level-headed. He had his power under such a tight-laced control that you would have given anything to watch him unleash it on someone. A dark part of you wanted that someone to be you. When you sparred, he was ruthless. Soap was fun to wrestle, even if he let you win. Gaz was a challenge, but a fair fight. Even Ghost had let you get the upper hand once or twice, but Price had shown no mercy. After the captain was finished with your body, you’d go back to your quarters battered, bruised, and sore for days. He’d even dislocated your shoulder once in order to break your hold, and then he’d had the audacity to shift into a caring medic, helping it back into its socket, bringing you ice and meds that night, checking on you before rounds in the morning. He was enigmatic.

You had gotten your hopes up, that was the problem.

One night, you were putting in a late workout at the gym, fists digging into the heavy bag, trying to improve on your power and speed. Trying to get him out of your head, more like. Your handsome commanding officer and his huge, hairy, muscular form had been haunting you for weeks in the night while you lay in your bed alone. The smell of his cigars was enough to send shivers through you at this point. So, you came to work off some steam. It didn’t help.

You had wanted to shower after your self-flagellation session with the punching bag, but when you went to the locker room, your heart froze. The water was already running. Since no one had been in the gym with you for hours, that wasn’t possible. You were facing the door the whole time…well, most of the time. But no one moved that quietly. You would have heard them.

Thinking someone had left it on, you moved to shut it off. A voice stopped your hand right on the edge of the cold handle. Low and growling, you heard your name come from behind the wall, floating out from the shower. Haunted and in a state of shock, you stood stock still, listening for it to happen again. You took a breath and pulled open the stall door to find Price’s broad, scarred back, hunched forward in what may (or may not, damnit) have been a contortion of ecstasy. He’d spun around to catch his intruder, but you had already turned back toward the gym door, sprinting for your life out of the bathroom. You went to bed sweaty and wet for more reasons than one.

It was his idea to drag you out here. The rest of the team had remained back at base, but Price had decided to take you on a solo helicopter flight out to a remote Hebridean island, uninhabited and cut off from the public, completely alone.

You had geared up for the weather, anticipating the slight cold front, but Price had added a level of challenge to your first field trip that made you concerned. He had only allowed you to bring one set of clothes. You’d be out for four days - if he didn’t find you before then. Four days was a long time to wear the same underwear and socks. Especially now, at the middle of day three, you were noticeably pungent. You’d also finished off your canteen this morning, so as you moved through the wooded hills, you mapped the path to the closest stream. Honestly, you were proud of yourself for evading Price for this long. You wanted to make it the full four days. Maybe he’d even consider giving you a more permanent position. You kept losing every single grappling match, but you scored high on your marksmanship testing, and your survival skills were top notch.

Rushing, bubbling water came into view as you headed into a small glen. There was a gorgeous waterfall waiting for you, and you couldn’t wait to bathe. It was a huge risk, but you were itchy enough to take it. You quickly shed all of your layers and scrubbed them in the clean, cold water with loose gravel, trying your best to rub as much grime out of them as you could. Then, you laid the clothes out on the rocks to dry in the sun and slowly waded your way into the water. It was cold enough to burn, but you had to admit that even the frigid water felt nice on your skin. Quickly, you washed your face and body, keeping your braided hair out of it as much as you could, splashing your breasts and rubbing between your thighs for some relief on your most sensitive parts.

Satisfied, you returned to the shoreline. You blinked, stunned, finding the rocks bare and missing your garments. All of them. Your heart raced in your chest. Your hunting knife was stuck straight up on a nearby stump, placed there on purpose.

Price.

He’d seen you in the water. Why was that your first thought? You bolted in the opposite direction, not caring any longer to move silently. You thought you might be able to outrun him, but just as you were about to clear a fallen log, you were tackled to the ground, your breath knocked out of your chest. Instincts high, you fought for your life, kicking and clawing at your attacker. He was fully geared out, and his clothing made rough scrapes against your skin as he clutched your back to his chest, wrapping his hand around your throat and an arm around your waist.

“Fuck! No!” You shouted, unsure as to what you thought that might accomplish.

You heard a dark chuckle in return,

“Thought you got away from me, little bird? Hope that bath was worth it.”

He flipped you so that you were laying face-down on the ground, his heavy body pinning you, squeezing the air out of your lungs that you had fought to recover.

“Give up, Sparrow. You’re caught,” he growled, fighting with your writhing form.

“No! No…I was so close,” you stilled, finally giving in, disappointed in your failure, laying your forehead in the sticky leaves.

“Yes,” his voice had an eerie, sultry quality to it, and that surprised you. Your body responded, melting into him, trying to determine his intentions. He spoke into your ear softly, “You did so well. But, I knew you’d need water, and all I had to do was wait. I didn’t expect you to reward me quite as well as you did, but that was a bloody nice surprise.”

He punctuated that last sentence with a buck of his hips and then you felt it. You had thought it was his holstered gun that was digging into the crack of your asscheeks, spreading them uncomfortably wide. It was too rigid to have been any part of his anatomy, surely. But, you were wrong. The heavy, solid pipe that was rutting against your ass was Price’s impossibly fat cock.

You gasped, involuntarily.

“Mm,” he was smiling; you could hear it, “Hard as a stone, innit? All your fault, birdie. You out there in that fuckin’ stream, grabbing your tits for me in the water, running from me so I can watch this gorgeous arse jiggle. Tha’s like teasin’ a hound with a bone, sweetheart. My cock’s aching for ya.”

“Captain, we can’t…we - ”

“I can do whatever the fuck I want to you,” he snarled, shouting. The sudden increase in volume made your blood run cold, and your pussy clenched down tight, traitor that it was. He started to grope your asscheek roughly, talking to you the whole time, “You’re caught, and if I was the enemy, you’d be watching Peter look your name up in his big book right about now. So, I feel like your punishment should fit the situation.”

You couldn’t help but shiver. He was right, you were out here all by yourselves. There were no comms, and the seaplane wouldn’t dock back here for another day. If Price wanted to hurt you, he had all the time in the world, and you were in no position to fight him off.

“Yes, sir,” you muttered, listening to your own shaky whisper with shame.

You heard a buckle and a zipper, and then you felt a tell-tale warmth against your skin. He was rubbing his length across your body, hungry and dripping with precome. You breathed in through your nose, trying to hold back your shock.

“Say no, little bird. Tell me to stop. Say that you surrender, and I’ll take you back to the camp and warm you up. I’ll put you on that plane and send you back to New York with a letter of recommendation in hand. You have my word. Or…”

He paused for a long time, waiting for you to take it. You should. It was no small accomplishment to get a letter of recommendation from a man as infamous as Captain John Price. But, something in you wanted a punishment more than a reward.

“Or?” You asked, your voice sounded so small.

It was his turn to draw in a trembling breath. You felt the whiskers of his mustache brush the side of your neck as he tasted your skin there, sucking hot kisses and sending chills across your back.

“Or…” he replied, “I will fuck you right here into the goddamn dirt, and every night, when I get hungry for you, no matter where our task force goes, you’ll take my fucking cock how I want, whenever I want, no questions asked.”

You let his threat sink in. How could he expect such a heinous, feral thing? Did he want you on the task force? A thousand questions flooded through your mind, but you heard yourself saying,

“Okay.”

A warm, fleshy head prodded at the entrance of your cunt, slipping through your folds and spearing you, almost painfully, with his difficult girth. His cock was so fat that you could feel your walls expand to fit him, panicking at this new level of intrusion and flooding you to try and mitigate the situation. He let out a ragged sigh,

“Oh, fuck, that’s so good. Tight, so bloody fuckin’ tight,” he laughed quietly, a tone of disbelief on his lips, “Welcome to the team, little bird.”

#captain john price #captain price #john price #cod mw2 #cod mwii #call of duty fanfic #captain price x reader #captain price x you #cod #primal #feral #dubious consent

[lcahwriter]

Running (Part 1)

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!reader

Word count: 5.2k

TW: Anxiety, past abuse, stalking, mentions of sex but no actual smut.

Summary: You ran across the country to the place you knew you’d be the safest- with Maverick on a Navy base somewhere in California. Your plan was to lay low until the coast was clear - but then you met Bradley Bradshaw. 

Will you be able to escape the man who was determined to find you? Will you be able to keep Bradley safe? To fall in love again? 

COMPLETED SERIES! Masterlist <—

Authors note: Holy shit, this has been a fun one to write. Please enjoy!

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It was 4pm on a Tuesday, the slowest day of the week at the Hard Deck. You mundanely polished the shot glasses that sat on the bar counter. Despite slow days being your least favorite – you were still thrilled to be working and not stuck alone at Mavericks house.

The Hard Deck and the navy base were the only places Mav allowed you to go to alone. Well- allowed was a harsh word. It was more of an agreement between the two of you. You knew it wasn’t safe to be alone right now, as much as you longed for the freedom. It had been 4 months since you moved in with Mav. He was like family to you- and when shit hit the fan you knew he was the right person to seek refuge in.

“Scrub those anymore and they might just disappear.”

You grinned and looked up from the shot glass. It was Bradley, a customer now turned… somewhat of a friend who was very easy on the eyes. He was wearing his usual outfit of perfectly fitting jeans and a Hawaiian shirt that complemented his sun kissed skin. You’d only seen him in his navy uniform once- he said he hated the attention it brought. You wanted to tell him he still got the attention of everyone in the room without it – but you figured he’d been flattered enough in his lifetime.

Bradley introduced himself 3 months ago on the night of your first shift. He had tried to ask you out a few times now, but you had so far successfully denied all his advances. It’s not that you weren’t attracted to him, because holy shit you definitely were. It was because you knew that if he really knew why you were here. He would want nothing to do with you.

“Another dad joke to start the evening with?” you teased him and set down the glass. You found it hard to know where to look at him since his black aviators covered his eyes. You settled on his lips- which was a big mistake. He noticed where you were staring by the looks of the tiny smirk appearing on his face.

“I was just stopping by to see how my favorite bar tender is doing.” Bradley’s voice was flirty as he leaned up against the bar and took a seat. You couldn’t help but keep grinning. He was a big flirt and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the attention. As well as the company. Finding friends, the last four months was basically impossible.

“I’m doing just dandy Bradshaw.” You said whilst filling up a glass with his favorite beer. “Same as usual.”

Bradley scoffed.

“Not giving up much information. Same as usual” he mocked back at me. You rolled your eyes and slid the beer over the counter to him. Bradley had started to ask more questions the last few weeks. All questions that you really couldn’t answer.

“Why are you living with Mav?”

“What brought you to California”

“What did you do before bartending?”

“What’s your family like?”

“Okay fine, I am happy to report I went to the movies today.” You said confidently. Hoping that this bit of personal information would satisfy him. He looked at you through squinted eyes.

“You went to a movie today? Like before work?” He questioned. There was amusement behind his eyes. You crossed your arms.

“Yes, at the theatre on base. So what? There’s nothing wrong with a good movie before work.” Bradley let out a giggle and you shot him daggers with your eyes.

“Well, I would say most people go to the movies at night and on a weekend - definitely not at senior discount hour on a Tuesday” He grinned widely.

“Unbelievable – I finally tell you something about my day and you make fun of me for it.” You still hadn’t uncrossed your arms, but your lips were curving into a small smile.

“I think its adorable.” He says, taking a sip of his beer while beaming at you. You tried to hide your blush by looking down.

You gripped the edge of the counter when the flattery you felt turned into a deep, lulling fear in your chest. The man who was after you used to take you home and beat you if a man like Bradley complimented you at a bar.

You swallowed and tried to shake off the fear. You knew you were safe here. Maverick knew you were safe here too. The Hard Deck wasn’t a military base, but it might as well be. The place was always crawling with military men and women. No one would be able to hurt you here. Not without a fight anyway.

“You okay?”

You shook yourself out of the trance you were in when you heard Bradshaw’s voice.

“Fuck, yeah I’m sorry.” You said, rubbing your hand through your hair quickly. ���Just zoned out” You said, trying to convince him you were alright.

“If the flirting is crossing the line…” He began to say but you cut him off.

“No!” You might have said that a little too quickly. “I mean. No, I like us flirting. I just- my head was somewhere else just then.” You reached over the counter and cupped your hand over his for a moment before taking it away. He looked shocked at the gesture. You honestly were surprised at yourself too.

It was the first time you’d ever touched him. He was so warm and rough- but somehow still so gentle. You were trying your god damn hardest to ignore the tingles in your hand.

A group of 6 or 7 people walked up to the bar and you thanked GOD that you somehow had an excuse to walk away from the awkward as shit conversation you were having. You flashed Bradley a smile before turning around quickly to attend to the rowdy group of customers.

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You burst into the small kitchen making a B-line for the fridge. You didn’t even bother to acknowledge Mav’s presence at the kitchen table. All you could think about was water. You filled up a glass of cold water before hastily bringing it to your lips.

You looked over your glass to see Maverick looking at you questionably.

“Try to run a mile again?” he asked.

“Two miles for your information” you retorted before filling up the empty glass once more. Your body was aching, and sweat was dripping from your forehead.

“Why do people run? Dear god its torture I swear.” You sat down at the table across from Maverick, finally feeling yourself calm down from an embarrassingly short run.

“Your therapist said it would be good for you right?”

A pang of shame popped into your chest. You nodded anyways.

“Something about helping with the anxiety.” You murmured, avoiding eye contact.

Mav was the closest thing you had to a father. Yours jumped ship as soon as you were born. But you always remember Mav being there. Between deployments and military orders, he would come by and take you and your mom out for ice cream- or to the movies. You were pretty sure your mom was in love with him at one point. But she still won’t admit that.

You missed her. But staying with her wasn’t an option. Not until this was all over. You were safest at a secured area.

“Have you heard from John?” you questioned hopefully.

John had been working with you and Maverick since you arrived in California. He was supposed to be the best private investigator around. You fucking hoped he was anyways, because neither you or Maverick could afford to pay him much longer.

“He texted me an update last night.” Mav sat back in his seat and ran his hands through his thick brown hair.

“He told me he’s still trying to recover the deleted pictures from your phone and home security cameras. He has tabs on Tim in Colorado. He is laying low there for God knows what.” Mavs jaw was clenched for a split second. You hardly ever saw him angry, but when Tim was brought up, he immediately soured – as did you. “Said once he recovers the files it will be enough evidence the Feds will have no choice but to move in on him.”

You nodded and bit the inside of your cheek. You had to involve the feds because Tim was a lead investigator at the police department in Virginia. You had tried to report him locally before- but somehow Tim would find out and nearly kill you. He had convinced everyone you were a “crazy” girlfriend. It was a hopeless situation. Until you finally ran.

“Still can’t believe an audio recording of him threatening to kill me isn’t enough.” You said sarcastically and stood up.

Mav shook his head and looked at you with sympathetic eyes. You had discussed this at length before. There was nothing either of you could do besides keep you safe and wait for John to gather evidence.

“You working at the bar tonight?” He asks. You nod.

“Yup. I better get in the shower. I’ve gotta be there by 3”

“Call me if you need me kid” He yells as you walk up the stairs of the tiny base housing.

“Always!” you shout back with a small smile on your face. You tried to ignore the aching in your chest from the conversation about Tim. Working at the Hard Deck tonight would be a good distraction from reality. Plus, you made more money there than you ever did as a Kindergarten teacher.

Your room at Mav’s place was small, but it was safe and that’s all you really cared about. You got ready for work, trying your hardest to convince yourself you weren’t wearing jeans that made your butt look good for any reason other than that they were comfortable. The tight red tank top that showed a lot more boob than you usually put on display- well that was definitely for Bradley Bradshaw. There was no denying that.

You knew you would never let him really know you- and you were pretty sure he knew that too. You were just a tease- someone he could never have. Someone nobody could have – at least not for a long time. Bradshaw was interested because he didn’t know you – once he found out you were running from a Psycho ex- he’d run like hell the other way.

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It was Saturday night so naturally; the bar was packed. Penny was working with you tonight, which helped relieve some of the anxiety you felt about the lines of people waiting for drinks. You had only been able to talk to Bradley for a few minutes before being swept away in craziness that was Saturday night at the Hard Deck.

“Hey sweetcheeks, can I get a beer?”  You looked up to see Jake, or Hangman as he had so kindly informed you many, many, many times.

“Sure thing” You went to grab the 10$ bill in his hand but he snatched it out of your reach. You let out an annoyed huff.

“Give me a kiss first.” He taunted, leaning his cheek towards you as if you would actually kiss him. You would literally rather run a marathon. Which is saying A LOT. Even if it was just on the cheek.

You took advantage of his eyes being shut and ripped the 10$ bill out of his hand.

“Never in a million years” You glared at him. Jake groaned at his failed attempt in flirting. You wanted to punch him in the face more times than you could count. But his flirting was pretty much harmless, besides the constant mental undressing of you every time you were in his vicinity.

You looked over at Bradley who was glaring at Hangman from across the bar. He looked like he was about murder him. His hand was wrapped around his beer with a death grip. You sighed and decided going over to talk to Bradley was way more fun than getting Jakes beer in a timely manner. Bradley noticed you walking towards him – he sat up and his body visibly let go of the tension it was holding.

“Hey” you said stupidly. He let a small grin come onto his face. A much more refreshing look than the death glare he had seconds ago.

“Hey” he says back softly. You sigh and grab his glass before refilling it on the beer tap beside you. Bradley’s eyes poured into yours. They were so beautiful and warm. You scanned the rest of his face. It was a masterpiece really. And fuck, he looked so good in the plain white t-shirt he was wearing. You tried not to stare at his muscles- but you just couldn’t help yourself.

A loud shout and crash startled you out of your trance. Your body went ridged at the sound of glass shattering on the floor. You turned to see that the freshly washed glasses stacked on the corner of the bar had been knocked over by someone.

The shattering still rang through your ears loudly. Your heart rate started to pick up and you could hear your blood pumping in every single part of your body. Your head was pulsing – your heart was beating out of your chest. You tried to breath but instead you choked on air. You knew you were in the bar- but your brain thought you were back with him, trapped.

The pain was like no other pain you’d felt. Glass was all around you –  you were covered in it. You looked down to see the clear shards turning a deep red. You could smell your own blood coming from all around you. You tried to get up from the glass but he was holding you there, letting you die –

“Y/N!” An arm shook your shoulder roughly. You looked up to see Penny with concern written all over her face. You started to breath faster. You looked past her to the glass on the floor, causing you to wince. Penny looked back at the glass and then back to you.

“What’s going on?” She asked gently, rubbing her hand up and down your arm. You backed away from her touch. You were somehow still standing, even with the panic rising in your chest. You looked to your right to see Bradley. Who looked like he was about to vault over the counter to get to you.

“Y/N…” he said with worry thick in his tone.

“I have to go.” You quickly said before dashing out of the bar towards the back door. You didn’t look back. You barely made it through the back door before vomiting in a bush to the left of the building. The anxiety was causing your stomach to wrench up all its contents. You couldn’t stop thinking about that night. The glass – the blood.

You sucked in air too quickly, time and time again despite your greatest efforts to calm your breathing. You slid down the cold wall of the building and tucked your knees to your chest.

You heard the back door open, causing you to flinch. Your eyes were so blurry from your tears you couldn’t make out who was there. You started to slide your body away from the figure.

“It’s Bradley.”

That made you stop. His voice was so gentle. So kind. You let out a loud sob between gasps for air. You could be embarrassed about it later.

“Stay away from me” You warn, as he walks towards you. He doesn’t listen and keeps walking. You wanted him to stay away – to go away. You didn’t want him to see you like this. He reached out his hand but you backed away harshly.

“Don’t touch me.” You said, shoving yourself against the wall in effort to escape him. He jerks back as if he had been burned by your words.

“Okay, I won’t touch you.” He said calmly.

He slid down the same wall you were against – but about 5 feet away. You breathed heavily.

“Please leave” you said, tears running down your face into your knees tucked under your chin.

This was so fucking embarrassing. You thought. You just wanted to disappear. How the hell were you supposed to come up with an excuse for freaking out over broken glass?

“I can’t leave you out here alone.” He says. You look up to see him staring at the night sky.

You shuddered at the thought of what could happen if you were alone. If he found you somehow. He would kill you.

Your thoughts got your body shaking again. Bradley noticed.

“What did you have for lunch today?” he asked. You popped your head from your knees to glance at him. He smiled softly when your eyes met him.

“Chicken nuggets” you replied, a shaky laugh left your lips. Bradley laughed loudly. “And you?” You ask weakly. You could already feel your breathing starting to slow with his silly distraction.

“Ramen noodles” he said with a sheepish look on his face. You laughed and then hiccupped immediately after. You lifted your head from your knees completely and let the back of your head lay against the cold wall. You were shaking from the fear, but it was slowly fading.

You sat in silence looking at the sky above you for at least 10 minutes before you felt the confidence to speak.

“Thank you” you say to Bradley, who was already looking over at you. His brown eyes sparkled in the moonlight.

“Anytime.” Is all he says, before looking back at the stars. You stared at him like he was art. Because he was, you couldn’t deny it.

“You have experience with panic attacks?”  You ask. He perks up at your question.

“What makes you think that?” He avoided the question.

“You knew to distract me. And to give me space.” You say, inching closer to him by sliding on the concrete. He avoided eye contact with you but nodded.

“I get them sometimes. Not so much anymore though.” He swallowed hard and you could tell he was uncomfortable talking about it. You reached out and grabbed his hand gently.

You knew you would regret it later. But in this moment, you wanted nothing more than to intertwine your fingers with his to somehow comfort both you and him at the same time. His large fingers wrapped around your hand. His thumb rubbed circles slowly on your hand, making goosebumps fly up your arms.

“You’re running from something” Bradley says quietly. You stiffen immediately but he keeps rubbing circles around your hand.

“What makes you think that?” You croak. You felt tears well in your eyes, but you bit your lip hard enough to make it bleed in attempt to stop them.

“You won’t talk about why you’re here. Or why you’re living with Mav.” He explains gently.        “You’re always looking over your shoulder like someone might be there”

You shut your eyes and take a deep breath. Fresh tears rolled down your face.  Bradley kept rubbing slow and soft circles around your fingers. You hated that he elicited this kind of response from you. A feeling of trust and safety that had to be something you just imagined in your head.

You didn’t want to give away any information. The fact that you were sitting here alone, holding his hand was bad enough. To feel safe with a man like Bradley gave you goosebumps. It made you think of an array of dirty thoughts that you definitely shouldn’t be thinking about.

Everything in you wanted to break the rules you set for yourself and pour your heart out to him. But you stopped yourself before you could.

“I need to go home. Will you tell Penny that I had to leave early?” You stood up and shakily wiped the back of your pants off. You tried to ignore how cold your hand felt now that it wasn’t enveloped under his.

“I’ll drive you home.” Bradley said sternly. He stood up next to you, towering over you. Good god you never noticed how big he was compared to you.

“I can drive myself.” You insisted while trying your hardest to avoid looking him in the eyes.

“Please- just – just let me drive you home so I don’t worry about you.” He paused for a moment “and I think Mav would kill me if he found out I let you drive home after tonight.”

Well, he was right about that one. You could try to hide what happened tonight when you got home hours earlier than expected. But you knew Maverick would eventually hear something about what happened from Penny.

“Fine”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * *

His car was nice, new and clean. It smelt like him. You scowled when you realized even his god damn car brought you comfort.

You looked over at the masterpiece driving beside you. His golden tan skin drew your eyes in. His arms and hands flexed whilst he drove, and you swear to god he was doing that shit on purpose. The scars on the side of his neck and face showed through the passing headlights. You found them beautiful.

You had scars too- but they made you want to vomit. You hid them away under your clothes and long hair. You even avoided looking in the mirror before showering. It was too much to see what he had done to you.

You clenched your jaw at the thought of that night again. You hated that your brain couldn’t let the trauma go. No matter how hard you wanted to forget it.

Bradley noticed you tense up, because of course he did.

Fuck.

He broke the heavy silence, just as you expected.

“Tell me what you’re running from. I can help you.” He looked over at you, and then back at the road. He looked determined.

You shifted in your seat and tugged at the fabric on your pant leg nervously. That wasn’t what you expected him to say.

“I don’t want you to get involved.” And that was the honest truth.

“Are you running because you did something illegal?” He asked, full seriousness in his voice. You snorted out a laugh.

“No. I promise I’m not a fugitive or anything” you joked, but Bradley remained serious.

“Well, then I want to be involved. Whatever it is.”

You gulped and thought about his offer. You didn’t need help escaping from Tim. You were already in the safest place you could be. But he could help you in other ways. Comfort. Companionship. Laughter. Pleasure … you clenched your thighs together instinctively. It had been years since you felt any kind of pleasure from a man.

You knew crossing that line with him would be a mistake- But God, when you looked at Bradley- you wanted to break all the god damn rules.

“You can’t help me.” You said looking out the window into the night sky. “Plus, you don’t even know me. Helping me makes no sense.” Your heart panged with sadness. Him not knowing you was the only excuse you could think of to push him away.

“I want to know you.” He said softly.

“And don’t act like I don’t know anything about you.” He mused, taking a glance at you with playful eyes. “I know your favorite beer AND that you like going to see movies with old people on Tuesdays”

You laughed and couldn’t help but smile. You shook your head and stared at him.

“Fuck.” is all you said before letting your head hit the back of the seat.

“What was that?” He asked, eyebrows raised. You stayed silent thinking about whether you should break all the rules or be good and ignore Bradley Bradshaw for the rest of your life.

“I said Fuck.” You repeated, sitting up a little straighter and puffing out your chest to gain your composure. Bradley pulled up to Mavs house and parked his car in the driveway. It was dark out, and with the headlights off you could only see parts of the man sitting next to you.

“Fuck, what exactly?” He wriggled his eyebrows and you punched him in the arm.

“You’re an idiot.” You said, smiling. You swallowed and enjoyed the feeling of being with him. You wanted to cherish it.

You looked into his brown eyes and got lost. You LET yourself fully let go for a moment. You scanned him from his hair to his thighs. You listened to his slow breathing, and you swore it was quiet enough to hear his heartbeat.

“I’m not running from something. I’m running from someone” you blurted out. You watched Bradley take in your words. His face went from shocked, curious, worried and angry all within a few moments. He stayed silent.

“I can’t believe I just told you that.” You said blankly. Slumping in your seat. You had expected to feel relieved. But instead, you felt anxiety. Fear of having to tell him more – things that you weren’t ready to admit.

“You can’t keep everything to yourself” he nudged. You wanted to run from him. You wanted to slam the car door in his face and destroy the stupid feelings that were bubbling in your chest.

“Mav knows everything. He’s like a father to me. That’s why I came here -I knew I’d be safe. Guarded by the navy and all that.” You joked half-heartedly.

Bradley mustered up a small smile, but you could tell he had a million questions to ask. You appreciated his patience.

“The glass tonight….” You trailed off and shook your head. Your eyes fell to your lap. Were you really telling Bradley Bradshaw this? When you thought about it you didn’t even know him. You had tried your best to avoid that. He wasn’t supposed to really mean anything to you – and you were just supposed to be a tease to him.

But here you are, sitting with him alone in his car- pouring your fucking heart out.

“What’s your favorite color?” you ask, looking up at Bradley curiously. He raised an eyebrow.

“Blue. And yours?”

“Green.” You explain. “Forest green, like the redwoods up north.”

Bradley hummed in response. His hands were sitting in his lap and you couldn’t help but wish they were holding yours. But you were too much of a chicken to admit that.

“I’m sorry. I just realized I hardly know you.” You admitted, giving him a small smile. “Yet here I am, about to dump all my secrets to you.” You were joked, once again to try to ease the anxiety you felt.

“Sure you do. I mean you’ve talked to me almost every day for the last three months.”

You shrugged.

“Good point.”

You unbuckled your seatbelt and turned towards him, flipping your legs up to sit crisscrossed. You leaned your back against the car door and sighed.

“The glass.” You said shakily. “It uh- reminded me…”

Fuck this was hard to talk about. But isn’t this what your therapist had told you to do? Not bottle up the memories when they arise? Make friends?

“He pushed me through a sliding glass door. I landed backwards all over the glass.” You couldn’t muster up the courage to look at Bradley. “He thought I would tell the paramedics about the abuse. I had to beg him to call the ambulance.” You whispered softly.

“So, when I heard the glass tonight- it just brought me back.” You felt the scars on the back of your neck and body burn. You sucked in a breath and peaked a glance at Bradley.

He was tense. He looked like he was trying to contain his emotions by clenching his fists in his lap. His jaw was clamped shut. But you also noticed sadness in his eyes, a true sadness that you weren’t expecting.

“That was 6 months ago.” You twisted your lips together and debated if you should continue spilling your guts out to the man across from you. You decided you’d take the risk.

“I managed to run away from him while he was on a work trip.  I went to my mom’s house a few states away, but it was only a few days before he showed up” You felt your voice grow weak. “I was at the store when he came to the house– he threatened to hurt my mom.” The pain you felt in your chest was palpable.

“I called Mav and told him I needed to hide. Until I had enough evidence for the feds to arrest him.” You looked at Bradley. “I called him on a payphone before I came here and told him to stay away from my family – because I was going to go somewhere he would never find me.” You pushed your hair behind your ears nervously. “The last thing he said was that when he found me, he would kill me.”

Bradley’s face hardened and you could see his neck was turning red with anger.

“He won’t find you.” His voice was strong and assuring. “You’ll be safe here.”

You gave him a small smile.

“Yeah, I know.” You said lightly.

Bradley gulped and hesitantly reached for your hand. You quickly met him halfway and allowed his hand to envelope yours. The intertwined hands rested on your lap.

“Thank you for telling me.” He said, rubbing those damn circles with his thumb on your hand again.

“And I swear to god that son of a bitch will not come near you again.” His voice was dark when he spoke. You gulped.

“Yeah. I really hope so.” You looked down at your hands and flinched at the thoughts that came into your mind.

“He would kill me if he knew I was holding your hand.” You said quietly. Bradley tensed.

“He’s not going to hurt you again.” He promised, giving your hand a squeeze. “I won’t let him.”  

“I don’t want him to hurt you.” You emphasized. “If he saw you with me. Even- even as friends – he would- he could.” Bradley interrupted your spiraling thoughts.

“But he won’t. He won’t hurt me, and he won’t hurt you. Okay?” His eyes met yours and you could see how serious he was. Your heart ached.

This man, who you barley fucking knew was promising to keep you safe. Was swearing that nothing would happen to you again. It didn’t feel real. You knew that promising safety wasn’t a reality.

“You’re insane.” Is all you could think of to say back to him. He cracked a big grin- which was a relief to see over his I’m going to kill your ex- boyfriend look.

“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been told that.” You smirked and took in a deep breath.

Before you could speak, he did.

“Let me take you out to dinner tomorrow.”

You laughed loudly and looked at him only to see that he was dead serious.

“Oh my god, you really are an idiot.”

Bradley laughed louder than you had.

“You know that’s the second time today you’ve called me an idiot. But somehow, I’m still infatuated with you.” He was full on smiling now, and you wished he didn’t look so fucking good.

“I just told you that my psycho ex is out to KILL me.” You reiterated. When he didn’t even flinch, you continued. “AND that if he even saw you with me, he would want to KILL you too!” You exclaimed, fear once again overtaking you. Bradley sat up and leaned into your space while looking deep into your eyes.

“Let me make this clear sweetheart. I’m not scared of that bastard.” He let go of your hand and reached up to your cheek instead. Your heart was thumping.

Oh god was he going to kiss you? Fuck. You didn’t think you were ready for that.

“And if you want to go to dinner with me then you should. Because I’m not going to let anything happen to you or me.” His eyes flickered to your lips- but only for a moment. You felt him tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear before retreating to his seat. You let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding in.

“I want to get dinner with you.” You said quietly. “But I’m still healing Bradley.” You said with shame dripping from your words. “Knowing that he’s out there looking for me scares the shit out of me.”

Bradley nodded his head in understanding.

“I won’t push you into anything you don’t want to do. Ever.” He said calmly. “I’ll go your pace. And if you decide that I’m an annoying nuisance then just tell me to get lost.”

You giggled at that and smiled at him.

“You’re really something Bradshaw.”

God he was handsome. His soft lips looked more kissable than ever. But you reframed from reaching for them.

“Take my number.”  you said while pulling your phone out of your pocket. You swore you saw him sneak a glance at your chest while you did. It made you smirk.

He took your phone and typed in his number while you TRIED not to stare at how freakishly large his hands were. Not to mention how long his fingers were.

“I’ll text you when I get inside.” You said, tucking your phone away. “Since I know you were going to ask me to anyway.”

Bradley grinned.

“See! You do know me.” He said proudly.

You laughed and opened the car door. You stepped out and looked back at him.

“Thank you- for everything. For listening.” You said softly.

“Anytime.” He said just as soft as you had. “I’ll wait until I see you get inside to leave.” You nodded and went to shut the door but his voice stopped you.

“AND I’ll text you about those dinner plans tomorrow.”

You blushed and nodded before shutting the car door. You walked up to the house door and unlocked it – looking back to wave at Bradley before walking in and closing the door.

As soon as it shut you rubbed your hands over your face.

Holy shit. What have you gotten yourself into with Bradley Bradshaw?

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Part two coming soon if enough people are intersted <3 Comment below if you’d like to be part of tag list.

#bradley bradshaw #rooster #rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #top gun pilots #top gun fanfiction #rooster x reader #rooster x y/n #bradley Bradshaw x reader #bradley Bradshaw x y/n #Protective bradley bradshaw #protective rooster #bradshaw #miles teller #miles teller top gun #top gun maverick #miles teller imagine #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster imagine #rooster oneshot #top gun #bradley

[f4ll-for-you]

Fade Into You | Rafe Cameron

Rafe x Reader Series Part 1

masterlist

mentions of drug abuse, parent death, addiction, hospitals

You’d spent over a week surrounded by the same four walls. Your pillow was constantly tear-stained and your heart felt like it would never put itself back together.

As a child, you never expected to live a life without a parent, without a mother. 

It had been so sudden. She wasn’t well and, within hours, you were in the hospital, being told your mother was gone.

You felt sick, like the world was crashing down on top of you, and that feeling hadn’t stopped for eight days.

Your dad had come to see you once or twice, looking just as bad as you felt. It only took one look into your eyes before he’d make an excuse to leave; he was unable to look at his daughter, a perfect replica of his wife. When he shipped you off to North Carolina, you assumed that was the reason he couldn’t even stand to have you around anymore.

Life had gone from perfect to awful in the space of a month and you hated every second of it. Secretly, you hoped that a change of scenery would help you forget, but if anything it made you feel even more alone. 

You were staying with your father’s close friend, Ward, who had visited over the years, always treated you with kindness and that hadn’t changed when you moved in. Rose had tried to care for you, but someone trying to act as a mother figure only hurt more, so you pushed her away.

Ward’s children didn’t think much of you. Wheezie was kind, but young and busy with her own life. Sarah was barely home, basically living on the other side of the island. She made it very clear that she didn’t think much of you. And then there was Rafe - he was the most tiring. At first, he’d barely spoken a word to you, just keeping an eye out for you, like his father had instructed. You quickly grew tired of him following you around without a word, which ended up with you accidentally taking all your pent-up emotions out on him. You shouted and screamed and cried, while he just stood there watching, not even making a move to comfort you. That only made you hate him more.

You’d taken a long walk on the beach to calm down, walking for hours without an end before a familiar scent passed you. You noticed it coming from a shack and made your way towards the figure sitting outside.

You attempted to seem confident as you walked over. frustratingly having no money in your pockets to pay for what you wanted, you hoped you could charm the dark-haired man.

“Hey, mind if I have some?” You asked, sitting down opposite him confidently.

The dark-haired man looked you up and down and smirked. He could see you were a kook. “Rafe's girl,” he commented before handing you the joint.

You tried to hide the shock in your face. Rafe had talked about you? And this guy knew him? “Um, not his girl,” you spoke sourly before bringing the joint to your lips. 

The first wave of escape rolled over you moments later, making you instantly crave more. “Do you think I could have one of my own?” You batted your eyelashes.

“Not without money, baby.”

“Rafe will pay you next time he sees you,” you lied, not giving a shit if Rafe got mad at you.t was your best excuse to get what you wanted right now.

“Fine, he better.”

You chatted with the guy, who you now knew was Barry, until the sun set. He offered to drop you off at home on his bike, but you declined, walking back to Figure Eight the same way you came. If you weren’t high, you would’ve been terrified, but right now, you don't care about anything, relishing in the feeling of nothingness.

When you returned to Tanyhill, Rafe was livid. “Where the fuck were you?!” He spoke with a raised voice as soon as you entered. 

“Fuck off Rafe,” was all you replied before heading up to your bedroom and locking the door. Not before he noticed your blown pupils and empty expression. 

You continued to see Barry every day from then on. You had a mutual agreement, you paid for the drugs and kept him company; he helped you hide from Rafe for a few hours each day. 

Barry worked while you chatted away at him, weighing the white powder into small baggies. You couldn’t help yourself when you asked for a line, he was reluctant at first, but you had the money and he was a businessman after all. 

Your routine continued for a month unnoticed, you’d told Ward and Rose you’d got a part-time job as a babysitter to give a decent excuse as to why you were out all day. They didn’t question it, just glad you were busy and seemed, on the surface, to be coping with the death of your mother.

Rafe wasn’t so easy to fool. He tried to follow you several times, questioning where you worked, and what the children’s names were. Each time he’d ask about your schedule you accused him of being nosey and he’d tell you he didn’t care as long as you weren’t causing trouble.

As summer turned into autumn, the evenings got darker and your walk home became more difficult. Usually, you were fine in your numb state, but when you’d arrived at Barry’s, he was nowhere to be found. 

All you could do was turn back, the repercussions of your addiction making you feel sick and exhausted, barely able to see as you walked.

You felt dazed when you saw headlights approaching, a familiar grumble filled your ears as Rafe's truck slowed down beside you. “Fuck,” you muttered, hurrying your pace as the engine shut off, trying to find another route off the road. 

“Y/N?” Rafe asked with a raised voice, trying to hide his confusion and concern. 

You needed to run, but you couldn’t. Everything washed over you all at once, your feet remaining glued to the ground as you collapsed. You didn’t realise you were crying until you let out a loud sob and a pair of arms wrapped around you.

Rafe didn’t say anything. In truth, he didn’t know what to say. He knew you weren’t alright and that broke his heart.

The signs had been there for weeks. He knew you were high all the time and he tried to speak to you about it, but as usual, he failed. He tried to convince himself he didn’t care. You were nothing to him and if you wanted to destroy yourself, then he’d let you get on with it. But he couldn’t, not when he knew exactly how you felt. How awful you have to feel to turn to drugs. How losing a parent breaks you in two. He cared about you and he hated it.

thank you to my beta readers @cameronspecial @amiraisgoingthruit @arcielee - ilysm🤍

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron #rafe x you #rafe x reader #rafe fic #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron x y/n #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron x smut

[luvadosar]

I’m allergic to happiness ; Angel Dust x Platonic!Roomate!Reader 🖤

Part 1/2

Warnings: Mention of Valentino (🖕🏽) , Mention of abuse (?)

Words: 450

Angel was supposed to return to the apartment after five fucking hours, and for those five long hours, you sat there in silence, hoping for some sort of comfort, hoping for anything to reassure yourself that Angel was safe and okay.

Unfortunately, his phone went straight to voicemail, so you were left without any confidence that he would arrive. That stupid douche Valentino is the source of it all. You lost Angel Dust because of him.

The faint sound of the door opening jolted you out of your mental prison and back to reality. Slowly, the door opened, revealing Angel Dust's still silhouette.

"Angel? It's dark; I can't see you.” As soon as you noticed his silhouette was having difficulty standing on his own two feet, you got from the couch.

Angel trembled feverishly, resting on your shoulder for support as you carried him to his room. Angel had remained silent thus far, keeping his head down and his eyes closed shut.

"I think im gonna fuckin’ pass out.." Suddenly, Angel muttered. You so badly wanted to tell him it's okay and to just hang on for a little while longer.

But you've become 50 shades paler than before and unable to talk.

Once the two of you reached his bedroom you let go of his shaky body and watched it go limp on the bed. After a few seconds, he was curled up in a ball like a fetus, slowly letting everything out. A sob escaped his throat while he struggled to breathe.

”Oh, Angel…” You said, watching him writhe across the bed, trying to find a comfortable position as he was a sobbing mess. You reached for the light and that’s when Angel yelped.

”Please…don’t turn on the lights…don’t look at me.” He begged in a shaky tone.

You sighed softly at his stubbornness, you extended a hand to his chin in which he pulled away, so scared to let you see the truth, to let you in, to help him.

“Angel…let me see, please.” You whispered next to him, your breaths hitting the corner of his face, making him shiver in response.

Again you turned the lights on to get a better look at his face, this time he didn’t stop you, just shutting his eyes tightly in the process.

The evidence of a fight was prominent on his face. You delicately thumb away the streak of blood in the corner of his mouth, saying nothing as you examine him.

“Valentino?” You questioned him as he shuttered at the name of his abuser.

“Valentino.” Angel answered back with the same name, confirming that it was he who did this to him.

Part 2/2 coming soon 🖤

I can’t find the original creator for the dividers for the fuckin life of me; crts to them though.

#hazbin hotel x reader #helluva boss #hazbin hotel #hellaverse #drabble #angst #angel dust #angel dust x reader

[targaryenluvs]

HER & I / MADDIE BUCKLEY

PAIRING: Maddie Buckley x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: When your best friend and crush shows up on your doorstep after a bad night, you help her to finally leave her husband.

WARNINGS: Abusive relationships, crying, escaping, threats, angst, fluff, comfort, confessions, kisses

WORDCOUNT: 1K Words

A/N: Maddie deserves the best 🥹 Mighttt do a part 2! Look at me posting twice in one day 🤭

Gif not mine, credits to the owner!

You thought the world of Maddie, always had and always will.

So when she showed up on your doorstep, tears running down her face with bruises everywhere? You couldn’t believe your eyes. “Maddie? Oh my god, come in.” You ushered her in quickly closing the door behind her.

“What happened sweetheart?” You always called her nicknames.

She shook her head immediately as you opened your arms, “I’ve got you, don’t worry. Wanna tell me what’s wrong?” You took her hand and sat her down on your couch before sitting next to her.

“Doug.”

Just one word was more than enough for your blood to boil. Her husband, the piece of trash he was, always treated her horribly. Ruining her mental health and wearing down the strong woman you knew she was. He never deserved such a wonderful woman.

“He… I can’t do it anymore Y/n.” Her eyes were glossy as her lip quivered. You could make out a forming bruise on the side of her face, as you softly traced it. “That’s okay, you’re so strong. I know you are baby, I can help you leave him. Is that what you want? Cause I swear, I will pack my shit up and we can leave.”

Maddies heart was racing, most likely the adrenaline from running away. But also having you so serious, so attentive and determined to helping her leave.

Through her years as your best friend she found herself naturally drawn to you, and you were always there for her. The first night she confided in you, you didn’t ask any questions. Just opened your door and your arms as refuge. You never had any good vibes when it came from Doug, and your anger only amplified when you realised what he was doing to Maddie.

“No, you can’t Y/n. Your life is here.” She shook her head at the idea of you leaving with her, for her. “That’s not your decision to make Mads. I have friends here sure, but most of my family is either in L.A or out of America. Friends come and go, but you’re more than that.” Her eyes flicked up at your words, eyebrows furrowed.

What is that supposed to mean?

“What does that mean?” You sighed as you grabbed onto her hands, “This isn’t the right time to say this to you Maddie.” She clutched onto your hands tighter.

“Please, just say it.”

“I love you.”

Her world stopped, the words she’d dreamed of hearing.

“I- I’ve loved you for so long. How was I supposed to not? Maddie you are unbelievably sweet, and kind, gorgeous, intelligent. God you’re perfect. And I am so sorry that Doug took that away from you. But you deserve to live. You deserve to help people, to live life without looking over your shoulder or worrying about angering him. If we leave. I promise I will do anything to keep you safe.”

She didn’t stop the tears as they rolled down her face, wiped away courtesy of you. “Let’s go.” She nodded as you grinned, “Really?” Maddies face broke out in a small smile, “Anywhere to be with you.”

And you did.

For the next hour you spent grabbing all the essentials, clothes, memories, documents etc. You texted another one of your bestfriends that you were leaving, and that she should come over and take inventory before selling your furniture. She was an avid user of Facebook Marketplace.

Luckily you were on good terms with your landlord and your lease was expiring in a week. As long as your friends sold everything of yours, you’d be in the clear.

Home isn’t a place, it’s a person.

And yours was currently right next to you.

It’d taken you and Maddie a bit of time to get on your feet, having crashed with her brother Buck who was nothing but welcoming.

“So you’re the reason she finally left him?” Maddie was currently in the shower, allowing Buck to finally question you. “No, she wanted to leave. I just helped her, I mean you did steal her car.” Buck jokingly gasped as he clutched his chest, “She gave that to me!”

“Sure thing Buckley.” You replied as you took a sip from your glass. “But, seriously, thank you. I have no idea where she’d be right now without you. And she really does love you, I can see you love her too.” Your smile was evident at his words.

“I do, I have for a long time. I’m just lucky. Now speaking of gay couples, you and Eddie.” Buck groaned as you giggled, “I see the tension everyday! You can’t tell me there’s nothing going on there!”

“She’s right, Evan has a crush.” Maddie joined in as Evan shook his head, “The two of you are menaces to society.” The three of you sat down on the couch and continued to bicker. Seeing you getting along with her family so well made Maddie’s heart swell. You were everything and more.

And you proved your love for her over and over. Always supporting her, handling her emotions and caring for her. When she woke up in the night after a nightmare, you were always there to calm her down. When she felt anxious, you listen to her concerns and assured her.

The two of you settled into life in L.A easily. You’d always wanted to live there, longing for home when you moved to study. Your parents were nothing but lovely to Maddie, which made her feel at ease.

She became close with Josh, and Chimney whilst you grew closer to Eddie, Evan and Hen.

So when it came time to the two of you discussing starting a family, you were nervous but confident in asking Chimney.

And out of respect for him and his mother, you named her Jee-Yun.

Maddie couldn’t help but become emotional when she thought about how far she’d come. From the days where she feared returning home to now, when she counted the minutes till she could home to her daughter and wife. Her family.

But she wasn’t in the clear yet.

Doug was still alive.

#maddie buckley x reader #maddie buckley #maddie buckley x fem!reader #911 x reader #911 fic #911 imagine #911 fanfic #911 abc #911 show #evan buckley x fem!reader #evan buckley x reader

[whereianonymouslypostfics]

The Flip Side Part 9

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~9.2k

Summary: Your motivation to continue working as a mobster in Chicago is dwindling after the birth of your daughter.

A/N: Things get heavier in this chapter. Mind the warnings and please don't read if it makes you uncomfortable. Enjoy! 😁

Warnings: physical/emotional abuse, gaslighting, references to sexual assault, threats of violence, angst, car accident, mention of blood and injury

12 years ago

Your neck aches from how often you’ve looked over your shoulder today. You’d been frantic in your escape, but too paranoid to draw too much attention to yourself as you went between the bus station, metro, and lastly train station. You were finally escaping your abusive, terrifying girlfriend, and it had only taken 2 years. 

Planning the imperfect escape and saving enough money hadn’t taken more than 6 months. The longest part of the process was finding the courage to finally go through with it. You’d made sure to cover all of your bases so you wouldn’t be caught until it was too late to stop you, but you couldn’t help but be fearful. In the time you’d been with the brunette, you’d gained a healthy appreciation for fear and you’d realized how it could save your skin in certain scenarios. Sure, most of the time you experienced it as a by-product of being with someone who was both unpredictable and reliable in their ability to tear you down. 

This morning before she’d left for work, you’d made breakfast for her and your bodyguard with milk that you’d kept out in the sun for the afternoon before. It hadn’t been enough to notice immediately, but only an hour later you see him leaving your lecture hall with an uncomfortable look on his face. 

You wait exactly thirty seconds before leaving class as well, but not before squeezing your friend’s hand in thanks. She’d been the only person you could confide in about your horrible relationship, and she’d helped you any way she could. You grab the bag she’d brought to class with her that has three changes of clothes and some extra tip money from her waitressing gig. You’d wanted to use most of your own money, but that was difficult to do given how closely it was watched and how any deposit or withdrawal you made was scrutinized. 

You’d changed clothes in a bathroom at the bus station first and took a bus to a city an hour away. It’s larger and has a metro that you catch to get as close to the train station as possible. You’re going backwards in your journey to cause confusion, but you’re hoping your wardrobe changes and use of cash only will keep you from being found. 

You’d had to ditch your phone and wallet to make sure you weren’t tracked, and now as you sit on the second train, you’re starting to grow less tense. You’d been on edge since arriving to your first class this morning, and it had only gotten worse as you followed through with each step of your plan. You’d almost chickened out, but the idea of having to face Hela when she came home and inevitably blamed you for her food poisoning kept you on track. The last time she’d hit you was earlier in the week, and you were still sore from it. 

As you stare out the window watching as the world blurs by, you wonder how you managed to land yourself in this mess. You weren’t even 23, but the past two years had been enough to age you significantly. You felt at least 10 years older from the stress and the amount you’d seen and had to experience firsthand. You’re not sure what you’ll be able to make of yourself once you arrive to your destination, but for now the most important thing to you was getting away and being free. 

For the first time in two years, you might have a chance to be your own person. You can’t fight the smile that tugs at your lips as you sigh in relief. 

When you first met Hela, you were sneaking into a bar with friends a few months shy of your 21st birthday. You were the youngest of the group and all of them had been able to get in, but you’d been stopped at the door. You ended up trying to get a ride home alone when a tall brunette had come up to you and offered you an alternative. 

Despite being young, you weren’t stupid and you knew there would be a catch. You didn’t have the self-esteem to believe that this beautiful woman would want anything good from you. You’d been right, but you wouldn’t figure that out for nearly three months. That night she’d only asked to buy you a drink and keep you company while you drank it. You were going to refuse until you realized that getting in the bar meant you could stay there even after you finished your obligatory drink. Except you didn’t leave after the first drink or the third. You’d talked with Hela for nearly an hour before your friends noticed you were there.

It had surprised you how easily you’d been able to talk to a total stranger. She was charismatic, attentive and showed a genuine interest that you hadn’t been prepared for. Thinking back on it, this is probably when she trapped you. Despite giving her your number, you hadn’t heard from her until a few weeks later, and she’d been on your mind almost every day after that first drink. 

Looking back, things had moved surprisingly quickly given that you’d never been in a serious relationship before. Hela had just lured you in and made you feel safe with her until she knew you wouldn’t be able to leave. By the three-month mark, you’d moved in with her, mostly to avoid going into more debt paying for school and an apartment, and you’d also learned what she did for a living. 

You hadn’t believed it at first. You thought she was lying and you’d made the mistake of laughing in her face. She’d made you regret it by pulling a gun on you and asking why you thought it was so funny. You’d said all of the wrong things and after claiming to find the idea ‘absurd and reckless’ she’d hit you for the first time. You knew you should have left right then and there, but the idea of her being in a gang was terrifying. You didn’t have any money or even an idea of what would happen to you if you left. 

She’d tried to make up for her misstep, for revealing her personality to you by apologizing and promising that she would never do it again. She’d just ‘had a hard day at work’ and you ‘couldn’t possibly understand it’. You hadn’t been able to argue even if you wanted to. You lost all ability to speak as your fear caused your throat to go dry and a cold sweat to break out. You hated the unknown and you’d asked her to explain what she did. You wanted to have a better idea of what you were facing if her work was going to help you prepare for her mood swings.

However, you failed to realize that ignorance really could be bliss. 

Hela had told you the truth. That’s how she’d conned you. She’d told you that she hurt people, she sometimes even killed them if they got in the way of her business of dealing drugs, laundering money and running several illegal money-making schemes. She claimed that she’d protect you because you were special and had no idea what you’d be up against if you were on your own. You were convinced to fear the unknown threat when really the only thing you had to fear was the woman who swore to protect you. 

She’d sometimes take you with her when she had business and you didn’t have class. The first couple times it was a question, then attendance became mandatory. You were mostly ignored on these trips, but you’d learned quickly that you had to pay attention. You had to watch, but you couldn’t say anything unless Hela spoke to you directly. You made the mistake of answering one of her client’s questions and she’d beat you black and blue with her belt as soon as you got home as punishment. 

By the 7-month mark of your relationship, you had no friends anymore, and the only people you saw other than her and her business partners, were your classmates. You weren’t allowed to see them outside of lectures unless it was strictly necessary, and you’d only tried to argue this once. Hela claimed to want you nearby or at least in the apartment at all times so she could know you were safe. You’d begun to hate coming home to a place that felt foreign and filled you with apprehension. 

Eventually, you’d learned more about gang operations than what you were studying in school, but you didn’t quit. You did well enough to stay enrolled because you didn’t want to flunk out. This would only give Hela another reason to drag you around with her or keep you locked up. You would sometimes sit in the apartment for hours wondering how you’d been so blind. Hela’s front was a good one and it had to be for her job, but you wonder why she chose you of all people to target. Why did she want you by her side when she could have certainly found someone else to abuse and belittle? 

One night you’d failed to cook dinner and she’d found you just sitting at the table where you studied in the living room staring off into space. When she’d asked you why you didn’t cook, you’d countered with a question of your own. 

“Why me?”

You remember the look on her face when you’d asked her why she’d chosen you that night. What had led her to you? Hela had just smiled coldly before sitting down across from you and propping her elbows on the table between you two. She’d wondered how long you’d wanted to ask her this. She was honestly surprised it took you this long to bring it up.

“Because you’re you.” 

You had no chance to feel a fleeting sense of self-esteem before Hela continued and quickly cut you down to size so you resembled an ant. 

“I knew the moment I saw you that you were clueless. Such a pathetic little thing that I could easily manipulate and shape to my will.” 

You remember feeling embarrassment followed by rage and you’d tried to leave then and there. You’d gotten up from the table without a word and gone into the bedroom to pack a bag. Hela had realized what you were doing as soon as you made a racket throwing things around the room and yanking clothes from the closet. She’d come to stand in the doorway and simply watch you tearfully pack your belongings. You didn’t see her condescending smile as she scoffed and dared you to leave. 

“Where are you even going to run to? You’re broke. I’m the one paying for everything. You need me.” 

You didn’t want to believe this and you tried to convince yourself that you didn’t care. That it didn’t matter, but it truly didn’t make a difference. As you finished packing and began to zip up your suitcase, Hela came up behind you and grabbed your hair and yanked you backwards. 

“You’re not going anywhere you little bitch.” 

She’d thrown your suitcase to the ground before shoving you onto the bed. You caught yourself before you could fall all the way back, and you were going to push yourself up when Hela pulled out her gun and held it against your forehead. You hadn’t understood true fear until that moment, and you’d stayed perfectly still barely daring to breathe as your girlfriend smiled at you lovingly. 

“Are you sure you want to leave me, Y/n? Who will protect you from all of the bad people out there who want to hurt you? Who’s going to stop you from becoming a worthless dropout?”

You wanted to defend yourself and tell her that she was wrong. You don’t need her. You open your mouth to tell her this but she cuts you off as her finger moves to the trigger and she shoots you a challenging look that you’re not brave enough to defy. 

“Go on, darling. Tell me I’m wrong.” 

Your continued silence is answer enough, but Hela decides that you should still be punished for trying to leave. After setting her gun down on the bed still too close for comfort she started to take off your clothes. You were still too fearful to protest and you let her touch you, claim you as hers because she was right. Where would you go? You had no one else. They’d all moved on with their lives after you’d been convinced to stop seeing them. You had no friends, no money. You really were stuck with Hela. 

On your 1-year anniversary, you’d begun planning your escape from Hela. Unsurprisingly the day passed as any other and any attempt to do something special was thwarted by your bodyguard. They were assigned to you around the 10-month mark when someone in one of your classes asked you out very insistently. Hela didn’t trust you and she wanted to make sure you weren’t stepping out on her, so she assigned one of her goons to watch you. He was rude and very intimidating given that he was over a foot taller than you. You could maybe outrun him but if he caught you, he could probably snap you like a twig. 

Needless to say, you hadn’t attempted to run away yet, but you were careful to study him and see how attentive he really was. Unfortunately, he was probably afraid of Hela’s wrath too and he did a very good job of watching you and making sure all of the rules were followed. 

Hela began to feel more like an overbearing abusive mother than a significant other. She’d stopped touching you unless it was to hit you, and she criticized everything you did no matter how it was done. You’d given up trying to make things right or even easier for you. You just accepted that depending on the day you could be met with cool indifference or white-hot fury. You knew which one you preferred. 

You shudder at the thought of what Hela would do to you if she caught you. You’d made sure to act no different in the days leading up to your escape. You’d planned it down to the hour, and you knew that short of her knowing about your plan all along, she won’t find you. 

You try to keep this in mind as you step off the train a little later with a victorious smile. Although it felt a little premature, you allowed yourself to feel pride in the fact that you had outsmarted the brunette. She had shown you early on that she liked being in control of all things in her life, and the idea of losing you…well you hoped it drove her crazy. 

You walk outside of Chicago Union Station into the cold night and release a sigh. You look around and wonder what your next move is going to be. You have very little money, and no identification so you’re not sure what you’ll be able to do tonight other than sleep. The sound of sirens in the distance forces you to walk down the road away from the station. You decide that you'll crash at the first place you find that is within your budget. Then tomorrow, you'll begin to figure out what to do with your newfound freedom. 

Your last night in jail was certainly the worst. It was the worst night you’d had period, at least in a while, and you had another panic attack. That was a record you hadn’t broken recently. 2 in a week. It’s been years since that happened. You don’t remember much of it, but you’d ended up on the ground in the middle of the cell being stared at by your confused cellmate. You’d woken up when someone kicked you and told you it was time to get ready. 

You’d jumped up quickly because thinking about your ex last night had only made you more eager to get out of here. You have to stop yourself from running to the showers and speeding through breakfast so you can leave sooner. Gavin had told you someone would be here first thing in the morning, but you honestly can’t remember if he gave you details. He’d told you after showing you Hela’s picture, and you’d been a little distracted afterwards. All that mattered was getting out and making sure that your family was okay. You were desperate to see how Wanda was feeling after what happened yesterday. You can’t imagine that she feels good, and you want to take care of her. 

“Y/L/N, your ride is here.” 

Natasha ended up staying most of the night at Wanda’s after Steve and Pietro went to sleep. She had wanted to give them a break for the night, and she’d called Bucky to let him know. Instead of staying downstairs alone he decided to come up and keep Nat company. They’d taken turns staying awake and they’d both helped get Little Nat up in the morning once it was obvious that Wanda wasn’t going to wake up on time. It was almost 8 before either Pietro or Steve reappeared, and at that time both Nat and all of the dogs were taken care of. 

“Good morning.” 

Steve looks up to see Bucky at the stove in the kitchen cooking while Nat is sitting with Little Nat and some of the dogs at the counter. She’d just finished burping the little one when the duo shows up and she smiles at the sight of them fairly well-rested. 

“Morning.” 

“How’d you sleep?” 

Pietro just mutters something resembling ‘like the dead’ while Steve offers an appreciative smile. He was glad to get a bit of a break given how stressful yesterday had been. He was also very glad that you were coming home today. You would be all over Wanda for a while, but that was understandable given that your wife had been hurt while you were gone. You were probably feeling guilty.

“Very well, thank you for taking over last night.” 

Both of them smile and Bucky nods before he grabs his phone from the counter as he’s flipping an omelet. He’d seen this message last night but hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to anyone about it but Nat. Your warning was rather vague, but still specific in the sense that they needed to watch their backs. You seemed to think that whoever broke into the restaurant and hurt Wanda was behind everything that had happened in the last week. 

“Did you get a text from Gavin yesterday?”

Steve shakes his head as he sits down next to Natasha before reaching out to greet Natalya with a smile. He wonders if it’s just specifics about pick up today, but they’d already figured that out. He is grateful for the cup of coffee that Pietro brings him because he’s a little lost by this conversation already. 

“No, what did he say?” 

Bucky finishes up breakfast while he mentions what Gavin had told him yesterday. Pietro is almost finished with his coffee and plans to check on his sister in a few minutes. He wants to make sure she’s sleeping soundly, or if she’s up, see if she needs help changing her bandages. Those would be difficult to do by herself. 

“Apparently Y/n recognizes the woman in the picture. Her name’s Hela and she’s bad news.” 

The vague description doesn’t do much to quell their fears or explain how you know the brunette. They supposed you would tell them soon so they’d know who they’re up against. Steve checks the time and realizes they need to get ready to leave soon to pick you up. The jail was about half an hour’s drive, and they’d rather be there early than late for this. Nat seems to realize where his mind’s gone and she’s handing the blonde Natalya before she exchanges a look with Bucky. They’d talked about this a little last night, and as long as their friends didn’t feel strongly otherwise, they planned on picking you up today. 

“We’ll go get, Y/n. You eat up and see if Wanda needs anything.” 

Wanda had slept very well. The drugs had hit her hard and she barely felt her burns until she woke up the next morning. She’d been reluctant to take anything stronger than an OTC pain medication, but leaving the hospital yesterday had been harder than she’d anticipated. Once her IV drugs were discontinued, she couldn’t ignore how painful her arms were, and she’d caved and taken some Oxy. She was hoping not to have to do that again, but as soon as she was conscious, the first thing she registered was the stinging in her arms and she wanted to cry. 

If she remembered correctly, these wouldn’t heal for weeks and the thought of that makes her cry. Not just because of the pain because that won’t be fun, but she’s not sure if she’ll be able to hold Natalya for days. She couldn’t hold her yesterday and she wasn’t sure how she’d be able to do this long term. 

She doesn’t realize that she has tears rolling down her face until her brother comes to check on her. He’s finished his coffee and brought Wanda a cup as he knocks quietly on her door in case she’s still asleep. Rogue is on his heels because he hadn’t seen his mother in hours and he wasn’t going to wait any longer. Pietro figured it would be fine because the dog had seen how out of it his sister was yesterday, and he’d immediately picked up on something being wrong. Whenever Wanda was sick or hurt, which wasn’t often, Rogue would do his best to be by her side to comfort her. It was truly adorable to find him curled up next to his sister when she had a cold. 

Even as the years went on, he continued to do this and from his wagging tail and low whines, Pietro knew the dog was as eager as he was to check on the other Maximoff. 

“Wanda?” 

Pietro hears shifting and sniffles as he opens the door quietly and just enough to stick his head in. The light from the hallway is enough to illuminate his sister, and he sees that she’s trying to sit up but is having a difficult time without the use of her arms. She’s crying and Pietro’s quick to put down the cup of coffee he’d brought as he steps inside. 

“Here, let me help?” 

Wanda wants to tell him she can do it herself, but she’s not sure she can. She nearly screams anytime she moves her arms. She feels the burns rub against the bandages and it sends shooting pains up her arms and through her body. She really needs her pain medication. 

She just nods as she holds her arms up and lets her brother help her into a sitting position. Rogue whines by the bed as Pietro has to wrap his arms around Wanda’s waist and hoist her up, and she sighs in relief as she leans against the headboard. She looks to the bandages on her arms and realizes they need to be changed, but she doesn’t want to do that right now. 

“Thanks, Piet. Hi buddy.”

She looks to her dog who’s placed his head on the bed in an attempt to get closer to her. She reaches out for him and taps his nose before turning her attention to the older Maximoff. He’s looking at her carefully and since she’d clearly in pain, Pietro shoots Wanda a questioning look. 

“Where are your meds, sestra?” 

After being directed to the bathroom he goes in and turns on the light just long enough to find a couple of pill bottles. He also grabs the glass by the sink and fills it up with water before heading back to Wanda’s side. Rogue is still sitting beside the bed, more leaning on it as he tries to get closer to Wanda without getting on the bed. Wanda would consider letting him up if she were just sick, but she’s afraid any additional movement won’t help her feel better. 

She’s still smiling and petting his head as Pietro returns with pill bottles and some water. She turns to him with a sigh of relief despite feeling guilty for wanting pain medication so badly. She knows that they will make her feel better, but hopefully she won’t be knocked on her ass again. 

“Thanks, Piet.” 

Wanda watches as he opens the bottle before she realizes that she’s only on one medication. She frowns before stopping him from opening the other one that’s not hers. 

“It’s only one, Piet. The other is Y/n’s. “

Pietro just nods before placing the bottle on the bedside table and handing Wanda the pill and a glass of water. She grimaces as she grabs it but she wants to give it a try. Pietro waits until she’s taken her pill before setting the glass down with a smile. 

“Speaking of Y/n. Nat and Bucky are on their way soon to go get her.” 

Wanda feels more tears fill her eyes at the news of you getting out of jail. She’s not sure she could have been told anything that would make her happier today. She sighs happily before wondering if she’d be able to go with them, but the idea of getting up right now and changing clothes to go out sounds daunting. Not to mention she needs to take care of Natalya. 

“I’m so glad. I wish I could go.” 

Wanda’s gaze drops back to her arms and she has to stop herself from frowning at the intrusive thought that kills her mood immediately. She hasn’t looked under the bandages yet, she honestly doesn’t remember what her arms look like, but she’s certain she’ll see soon. You will also see them soon and she can’t help but worry about what you’ll think. Will you be disgusted, or will you get mad and try to go out and find who’s responsible for her injury? Do you even know who you’d be going after? 

“What’s wrong, sestra?” 

Pietro saw Wanda’s smile fade immediately and he doesn’t know why until she starts to pick at her bandages. They need to be changed soon, but he was hoping to get his sister some breakfast first. Maybe she could spend some time with Natalya so they can both feel better. The youngest Maximoff was a little fussy this morning, and it didn’t take a lot of thought to figure out why. 

Wanda shakes her head as she pulls her hand back from Rogue’s furry head as she starts to get out of bed. She shifts and winces as she swings her legs over the edge of the bed. Pietro holds his hands up and is about to help his sister to her feet, but she speaks up before he gets the chance. 

“I just wonder how she’ll react to these. She’ll probably be grossed out.” 

Rogue steps back to give Wanda room to stand up, and she groans in effort, but she does it on her own. She holds her arms at her sides stiffly as she starts to head for the door. She stops short when Pietro shakes his head with a sigh. He puts his hand on the handle of the door, but doesn’t open it as he shoots Wanda a look. 

“I’m pretty sure she’ll be horrified, Wands. She’ll hate that this happened to you and she’s either going to cry on the spot or be out for blood.”

Wanda’s still frowning at the idea of this, and she shakes her head before turning to her brother. She barely notices Rogue standing beside her nosing at her leg as she contemplates how to stop you from going on a rampage. 

“I don’t want her to do that, Piet. I just want her home.” 

You’re waiting impatiently to get the last of your belongings as one of your friends waits outside. It’s barely 8 o’clock, but you’re glad to be leaving sooner rather than later. You’d been here too long and you just want to go home and hug your wife and kid. You sigh in relief when you see the guard who had disappeared to grab your things. You take the plastic bag with a smile before heading for the door.

“You’re good to go, Mrs. Y/L/N.” 

You nod and head out to the car that’s waiting outside. You’re so eager to get out that you don’t even care that your friend isn’t greeting you, and you just hop in the back seat of your car. 

“Hey the--.” 

You pause when you realize that you don’t recognize your driver, and you berate yourself for even getting in the car without checking first. You brace yourself on the front seats as they take off quicky down the road as if they’re your getaway car. 

“Wait, who the hell are you?” 

Instead of any of your friends, or wife, you see someone you don’t recognize in the driver’s seat of a car that is basically your own. You know it’s not though because of a few details, but you don’t bother with those now. Even on no sleep you’re still paranoid as hell and you just sit back slowly as you watch the driver carefully. 

“Mrs. Y/L/N. I was sent by your friend Gavin to pick you up. He will meet us at your penthouse.” 

Your bullshit detector is going off like crazy, and you look out the window as you hear the engine revving. You’re going fast, a lot faster than the speed limit and there’s very little chance you’ll be able to jump out without dying. You’re not sure what the options are, and you’re not sure where you’re being taken.  You just sit back for a couple of seconds as you speed down the road before deciding that you’re not going along with this. You’re going to get home to your family today no matter what.

“That’s a little disappointing. I would have thought someone would want to see me.” 

You’re plotting your escape when you see something in the road ahead. You curse under your breath while putting on your seatbelt before the brakes squeal and you’re thrown forward as your chauffeur tries to stop in time. You brace for impact right as the tires hit the spike strip and you curse the fact that you hadn’t seen this coming. 

“Well fuck.” 

After waiting for Pietro to come back from checking on Wanda, Bucky and Nat left to head for the jail to pick you up. They’re a little later than they wanted to be because they wanted to see how Wanda was feeling before heading out. She wasn’t doing great but she was excited to have you back, so they left her to eat breakfast while they go pick you up. They figure that’s the best thing they can do right now.

Nat scoffs as she puts her phone away after receiving another text from her sister. She was on house arrest and she did not like it. However, she wasn’t trying to get away again because Kate had threatened her and for once her sister was taking something seriously. 

“Yelena’s not liking house arrest. No surprise there.” 

Bucky chuckles at this because he’s not surprised at all to hear this. He wasn’t going to tell Nat this, but he had anticipated that the blonde would try to escape at the soonest opportunity. He was certain that Nat knew this on some level, but he didn’t want her to feel guilty about not being able to stay with her. She’d had to figure out what was going on with you, but leaving her sister with Kate probably wasn’t the best idea. Kate, as well-intentioned as she was, was easily duped. 

“What is Kate’s threat this time? Dumping out all of Yelena’s vodka?” 

Nat laughs at this as Bucky speeds across the bridge toward the prison. She looks down toward the water with a sigh. She’s not sure what to do about her stubborn sister, but right now her priority is you. She smiles before turning toward Bucky who’s going 15 over near a federal prison. Hopefully he slows down before they run into a cop. 

“That and making her sleep in the car for a month or two.”

Bucky’s already slowing down, but not because he sees a cop. He sees what he thinks is a car wreck down the road and he slows as he drives past part of a bumper and a hubcap. Nat’s focusing more on the wreck up ahead and she eyes the smoking black car that’s flipped upside-down with a scowl. She looks to see the rest of the wreckage before noticing the shredded tires that were caused by more than just a nail. 

“Let’s go see if they need help.” 

The fact that there’s no one visible outside of the wreckage isn’t a good sign, but as Bucky parks the car Nat sees someone in the driver’s seat. She doesn’t recognize him, but as she kneels down to look into the car, she can tell he’s dead. Her gaze moves to the back and she sees nothing of interest. Nat stands up and looks around to try and get a better idea of what happened here, but Bucky’s already walking around the car. 

“What is it, Buck?” 

Bucky walks over to the side of the road where he sees what looks like drag marks into the grass. He follows the path before hearing a groan somewhere past him. Nat’s already wading through the tall grass and clovers for the source of the sound. 

When the car had run over the spikes, unfortunately the expected had happened. The front tires blew out and the car veered off the road before flipping several times. You’d been buckled, but still thrown around a bit as the car flipped and finally came to a stop upside down a ways down the road. You had been suspended upside down and your neck was bent at an odd angle as you tried to unbuckle yourself but not land on your head. You were only a little successful and you land uncomfortably and the car rocks threateningly. You roll yourself over before lying on your stomach for a few minutes to try and regain your bearings. You feel something ticking your face, and as you try to brush it away you realize you’re bleeding. You groan under your breath as you try to move everything else to test for other injuries. Other than being sore in general, you don’t feel anything else scream at you so you decide to try and get out of this fucking car. 

It's not as easy as you hoped and by the time you manage to crawl out of the broken window, you’re sure you cut yourself on something. You sigh deeply as you let your head fall into the grass with a frown. You see the empty road and wonder how this had happened to you, or rather why. You know why you got into the car but whoever had decided to try and kill you probably wasn’t Hela. 

You remember too much about the brunette, but one thing that you’d tried hard to forget was the fact that she didn’t half-ass anything. She wasn’t responsible for this meaning that someone else might try to come back and make sure that the job was finished. This thought made you groan in annoyance as you started to drag yourself off of the road and into the possibly snake-infested grass. You would get up soon, but you just needed to lie down for a few minutes first. 

You’re not sure how much time had passed when you hear the sound of a car door slamming shut. You open your eyes and wince immediately at the bright sun that sears your retinas. You decide to just listen for whoever’s stopped to check out the wreck. You stay quiet as you hear murmuring, but you’re unable to hear what they’re saying. You try not to panic as footsteps sound nearby and you release a groan as you reach for the gun that unfortunately you don’t have. 

“Bucky!” 

Nat’s voice makes you open your eyes and you are pleasantly surprised to see the redhead kneeling over you. She’s shielding you from the sun and you offer her a smile as you reach out your hand for assistance. 

“Nat. Good to see you. I assume you’re my actual ride.” 

This question makes Nat frown and she’s already trying to figure out what happened to you. You’d clearly been released from prison, but why had you gotten in the car with someone that you didn’t know? You turn slightly to see Bucky appear behind Nat and you smile at him as well before Nat takes your hand. 

“Why are you here? What happened?” 

Nat pulls you up into a sitting position and you cringe when your neck protests the movement. You imagine you have whiplash, but if that’s the most you suffered, you’d be grateful. You forget about the cut on your brow until Nat reaches out to touch it making you flinch. 

“I was told my ride was here, and well you see how that worked out."  

Nat and Bucky help you to your feet and besides grumbling in annoyance you don’t complain much. You look over toward the road to see your ride and the wrecked one with a frown. You are stuck trying to decide between the police being responsible for this or one of your rivals as you take a step toward the car. 

“Thanks for coming to get me. I can’t wait to be home!”

Bucky and Nat watch you with matching incredulous looks as you just walk back to the car like nothing happened. They supposed you were used to things like this happening to you given your earlier years with the mob, but it was a little disturbing to see how easily you accepted this. They had a lot of questions, but they figured they could talk on the ride home. 

Wanda groans as she looks down to her newly bandaged arms. They’re so itchy but she knows that scratching them will hurt her more than it will help. Her brother had helped her treat and rewrap her arms after she’d decided she wanted it done before you got back. She knew you’d see the burns eventually, but she’d rather not hit you with them right as you walked in the door. She’d been able to greet and hold Natalya on her lap for a while with her brother’s help. She leaned back against the couch as Natalya clung to her like a koala. At least she tried to, but she mostly tugged on her mom’s hair while Pietro supported her. Steve was already figuring out how to order more first aid stuff when Nat texted him a little later. 

I figured we should all hang around for a bit so Y/n can catch us up. We’ll be there in 15.

Wanda holds back her grimace as she carefully reaches out to grab one of Natalya’s hands. She doesn’t need Little Nat pulling her hair out despite how upset she is. She feels bad that her baby feels neglected, but it’s going to be a long few weeks if she doesn’t get over it soon. 

“How about we try something else, hmm?” 

Wanda reaches for the little stuffed bat that Yelena had gifted her a few nights ago and Natalya is briefly distracted by it. She grabs it and holds it out to Wanda and the brunette smiles before taking it back and flying it around for a bit. She keeps Natalya preoccupied as Steve texts Nat back and asks if pickup went okay. She simply responds with a facepalm emoji and a picture of the wrecked car and Steve’s at a loss for words. 

“Bucky and Nat will be back with Y/n soon.” 

Wanda perks up when she hears this and she’s smiling widely as she turns back to Natalya excitedly. She wonders how much Natalya really understands, and if she’s aware of your absence. You’ve been around more recently, so hopefully Natalya will be excited to see you come back after a few nights away. She’s probably just feeding off of her own energy, but her daughter smiles gleefully at what she says next. 

“Did you hear that, milaya? Mom’s coming home!” 

Wanda’s only a little apprehensive about your return when the elevator dings a few minutes after signaling someone’s on their way up. The dogs that had been lounging in the living room immediately head down the hall to investigate while Wanda takes a deep breath. She looks to Natalya who’s resting in Pietro’s arms before she stands up in anticipation. She’s excited to see you and she pushes down her anxiety to go greet you.

You’re tapping your foot so furiously on the way up the elevator that Nat puts her hand on your shoulder to stop you. You turn to her before cursing yourself for turning against the crick in your neck. You should probably go to the doctor, but you’re not delaying your reunion, and leaving anytime soon doesn’t sound appealing either. You mutter a ‘sorry’ under your breath but both of your friends just smile at you as Nat shakes her head. They’re glad that you’re no longer in jail and they can’t wait for you to reunite with your family. You certainly hated being away from them for so long and you nearly run out of the elevator when it arrives to the top floor. 

“Thanks again for breaking me out you two. We’ll talk about everything soon, okay?” 

They both nod in agreement but don’t respond as you dart out of the elevator only to fall over your dogs. You slam into the ground and land on your side to keep from squishing your confused dogs and you groan loudly. 

“Ow!” 

You look up at the sound of a whine and open your eyes just in time to feel someone lick your face. You can’t help but smile at the sight of your two shepherds and Rudy looking at you curiously. You reach out to pet them all before you climb to your feet with a sigh. You pet them one more time before heading for the living room with barely contained excitement. 

“I missed you guys too, and I’ll be back. I just need to say hi to your mom and sister.” 

You get up and, a little more carefully this time, hurry toward where your wife is. You find her standing at the end of the hall waiting with a smile, and it takes all of your limited self-control to not throw yourself at her. You can see the bandages covering her arms and you can’t help but feel a pang of guilt at the reminder that she’s hurt. 

“Hi detka. Are you okay?” 

You close the distance between you and your wife with a relieved sigh before you contemplate how to do this. You don’t want to hurt Wanda, but the idea of not being able to hug her is not acceptable. You try to work out the best way to do this while your wife looks you over carefully. 

You’re wearing the same clothes that you left in and not only are they wrinkled, but they’re covered in dirt and a little bit of blood. Your face is also covered in dirt and blood that’s coming from a cut above your eyebrow. Wanda notices a bruise around your other eye that looks older than your other injury. She's frowning by the time you come to a stop in front of her and just smile widely as you reach out for her. 

“Wands. I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you.” 

You drop your hand at the last minute because even before you touch her hand you see Wanda tense in anticipation. That answers the question you hadn’t wanted to ask, but had suspected you knew the answer to regardless. You frown as you kneel slowly and make sure this will actually work. You stifle a groan as you sink down until you’re basically eyelevel with your wife’s belly button. Wanda frowns slightly but she doesn’t get to ask as you’re reaching up to carefully wrap your arms around her waist. She lifts her arms slightly so they’re out of the way and she takes a deep breath as you hug her gently first before tightening your hold when you feel Wanda relax. 

“God, I missed you.” 

You don’t notice your friends all watching as you hug your wife and bury your face in her stomach. Wanda wishes she could hold you better but simply lifting her arms and putting them on your shoulders is uncomfortable. She moves one of them to run it through your surprisingly clean hair, but she does take out a twig that came from somewhere. She’s going to have to ask about your appearance. 

“I missed you too, detka. What happened to you? Are you okay?” 

You nod despite feeling your neck strain just from trying to look up at your wife, but you know you’ve had it so much easier than she has. You sigh heavily before you squeeze her one more time before getting to your feet. Your knees are starting to ache and you’re getting a little self-conscious of the fact that everyone’s sitting in the living room waiting for your explanation. 

“I’m fine, Wands. Just had a little issue with my ride, but Nat and Bucky came to my rescue. How about you? How are you feeling?” 

You risk reaching out for your wife’s hand just to hold it, and she lets you as she shoots you and then your friends a confused look. You take a second to look at the extent of Wanda’s injuries and you’re shocked by how much of her arms were affected. You feel your anger at Hela come back ten-fold at the fact that she’d gone after your wife. You’d like to shoot her in the face now, but that would require leaving your wife, and you don’t want to do that anytime soon. You are distracted by the sound of your wife’s voice, and you look back up at her face to see she’s frowning at you. 

Wanda tries not to shift uncomfortably as you zero in on her arms, and everyone notices it. They couldn’t blame you for being surprised by what you saw, and you hadn’t even seen the burns themselves. You probably imagined it differently based on what Bucky told you, but they mostly saw concern and a bit of anger as you studied your wife. Pietro tried not to frown at the fact you were unintentionally making his sister very uncomfortable. 

“I feel okay right now, Y/n. The meds help, but it hurts to move too much.” 

You frown deeply at this and want to say something else, but your wife redirects your attention. She reaches up to brush your hair away from the dried blood on your eyebrow with a questioning look. She doesn’t appreciate your vague answer and she wants you to give her a better one. 

“Back to your eye. What happened?” 

You winced slightly before you nodded and turned toward your friends that were all seated behind you. You reached out for Wanda’s hand, but changed your mind and just waved her over so you wouldn’t have to touch her arms again. You take a detour toward Pietro and Natalya and smile as you reach out for your daughter. 

“Hi my baby. I missed you.”

Wanda watches with a smile as you and Natalya greet each other. Natalya reaches out with a gleeful smile and smacks your face a couple of times. Wanda can’t help but laugh at this and your shamefaced expression as you move to sit down on the loveseat before motioning for Wanda to join you. She does and watches for a few more seconds as you play with Natalya before you kiss her face multiple times with a sigh. 

“So someone came to pick me up around 8. Said that Gavin sent him, but since I knew that was bull…a lie, I decided to jump ship.” 

Wanda’s only very confused, and a quick glance around tells her that she’s not the only one. You reach out to pet Boone who’s come to sit at your side with a whine. He wanted a better hello than he’d gotten, and you’re happy to oblige him as you explain your eventful morning to your friends. 

“I honestly thought the car was going to explode, but we just ran over some spikes and the car went rolling into a ditch. Then Nat and Bucky found me, and here I am.” 

Wanda’s jaw drops as she tries to figure out how the hell you’re sounding so nonchalant about almost dying. She also wants to know why you got into the car in the first place knowing that your friends were picking you up, but she’d get to that later. She sighs in defeat before she reaches out for you with a grimace that you don’t miss. 

“Y/n. You could have died! Why didn’t you wait for Nat and Bucky!” 

Your only response was a shrug and Wanda scowled in annoyance at your apathy. You just held your hands up in surrender for a millisecond before they went back to squeeze Natalya’s sides until she shrieked in response to being tickled. Wanda tried to stay mad at you but you were making it really damn difficult. 

“I’m sorry, Wands. I was just really looking forward to being home with you and this one.” 

Wanda rolls her eyes at your excuse but she can’t be too mad at you right now. She’s just so grateful to have you home, and her arms twitch as she considers trying to hug you. She really wants to especially as she watches you be so adorable with Natalya, but she knows it wouldn’t be a good idea. She glances around to her friends and her brother and they are all waiting for something. It’s not that Wanda doesn’t want them here, but they usually would have taken off by now, at least Bucky and Nat.

“We’ll talk about that later, Y/n, but first can we talk about the elephant in the room?” 

You’re immediately set on edge and this makes you remember that you’ve been off your meds for a bit. You doubt they’d help you in this situation, but you can’t resist the urge to at least look to the bathroom and consider running to get them. You don’t though and you just frown slightly as you consider what Wanda could be talking about. There are a lot of possibilities and you are not sure what Wanda’s talking about. You’ve missed more than you had hoped by being in prison for nearly 4 days, and you wrack your brain for the right answer. 

“Um…” 

You look around the room before you tap your fingers against your cute plump baby with a contemplative hum. You pause as you flex your fingers and then look down to your hands with a smile. You look to Nat who just raises an eyebrow in question while your wife frowns. 

“Right, right. Nat, do you have my rings?” 

You’d almost forgotten that you’d taken them off and left your phone with Wanda so the cops wouldn’t take them from you. You miss Wanda’s eyes widening in realization before Nat curses and nods before digging into her pocket. She’d meant to give these to Wanda, but it kept slipping her mind with everything that happened with Yelena and then Wanda. She stands up and hands a small black box to you and you smile happily before opening it carefully. Your daughter of course wants to be included and she reaches for one of the shiny rings with a curious noise. 

“No, no, little one. These aren’t for you.” 

You quickly put them on before explaining that you hadn’t wanted the cops to take them. If you’d lost these you’d probably cry for weeks. Wanda smiles at this but she shakes her head as she tries to address the real reason why her friends are sticking around like there’s news to share. 

“I’m glad you thought of that, detka, but I was talking about something else.” 

You know that and you’d just been buying time. You know you can’t do that any longer though because your friends are waiting for an explanation and they all deserve one. You take a deep breath before nodding as you lean back and look at your squirming child. 

“Pietro said that you know something about whoever broke into the restaurant.” 

You’re nodding as you get up suddenly and cause everyone but Wanda to start. You hold Little Nat up and away from you before turning back to Wanda. You’re about to hand her your daughter, but you stop short when you remember why that won’t work. You frown and try cover up your mistake by bringing Natalya with you. You excuse yourself quietly before you walk to the bedroom where you hope you’ll find your meds. 

“Right, right. Of course. Let me just run to the bathroom first.” 

No one says anything as they watch you flee into the bedroom and shut the door behind you. A couple people frown and Wanda sighs before she looks to her friends and her brother worriedly. She has a bad feeling that this isn’t going to go well. If Wanda focuses she can hear the faint sound of water running and continues for maybe 30 seconds before it stops and a door opens again. You take a deep breath to try and prepare yourself for this. You look to Little Nat and squish her cheeks making her giggle before you try to match her smile. This is going to be painful to remember, and awkward to tell anyone for the first time while they’re all together. There will be a lot of different reactions and too many feelings for you to deal with in addition to your own, but you can’t delay it. 

It wouldn’t be polite or even fair to tell everyone to leave so you can just tell Wanda about this. Despite having plenty of opportunities to tell Wanda about your previous relationship, you’d held back for too many reasons to count. You wanted to forget it, and you don’t think that anything that you’re going to face in the next few days will be easy. 

Not if you have to see her again. 

You take another deep breath and pretend that the extra few seconds will make your meds kick in faster. You bounce your daughter gently before kissing her cheek and reaching for the door handle. 

“Ready for this, little one?” 

Masterlist

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda x you #pietro maximoff #natasha romanoff #yelena belova #the flip side #mob au

[dino-fart]

I’m so happy to have won the chance to request a fic! Thank you! What about one where the reader has telepathy and maybe some siren-y powers and so he recruits her to help him with making sure Talokan stays secret/protecting it? And he’s like into her? Haha

Oooo me likey!!!

Warnings: Mention of past abuse by family

It was quite an arrangement you made with their king, you would steer anyone away from Talokan while he kept you safe from your kin. You weren’t like any sirens, you had telepathy and in the waters you were a siren with a white shimmering tail. But when you got to the shore, your tail changed into legs. Over time you had learned to control when this happened as well as stopping from over using your telepathic abilities. But it didn’t matter since you were born you were an outcast to your people. 

When Namor told you his story, you couldn’t help but feel...Jealous. His people embraced his differences and raised him to be a god and a king. But you...You were a demon, you were the runt, the disgraced siren. You had escaped your tribe a long time ago and simply wandered the sea which led you to meet Namor. 

You now sat on the rock in the middle of the ocean, combing your wet hair with your fingers. You had just finished leading a ship away from the border of Talokan. Tears formed in your eyes when you recalled how your mother tried to ‘force’ the evil out of you by methods of torment. You hugged your legs to your chest, that was covered with a white seashell armor top, and sighed sadly. You heard someone from behind you and your telepathic abilities alerted you that this was a visit from the king. “Good evening, your highness.” You said not turning around. 

“How have the borders been?” Namor asked, studying you. 

“All clear...Go back to your people.” You said coldly, not wanting to let him see you vulnerable. 

Namor didn’t answer, instead, he swam around to face you and what he saw hurt him. He saw the tears falling down your cheeks and your posture. “Ma'alobech? (Are you alright)” He said and climbed up on the rock and sat next to you. 

“Yes.” You lied and looked away from him. 

He nodded, deciding not to pry yet. He pulled out a few shells and showed them to you. “Tell me more about these shells.” 

You wiped your tears and looked over at them, “They’re just regular shells, your grace.” 

“On the contrary...These shells are the ones that are used in your armor, which makes them special.” Namor slowly raised his hand and stroked your cheek. You met his gaze finally and he leaned in to kiss your forehead gently. 

Know that you can confide in me, I will do whatever I can to keep you safe and happy. You read Namor’s mind. 

Why? I am not a Talokan. 

No...But you have been helping us and that means the world to me. 

Like you need any help, your grace. I’ve seen how you and your people fight. 

True, but it’s nice to have a...Quieter approach. 

Or maybe this was a scheme to hear me sing? You grinned. 

Looks like my plans have been foiled... Namor grinned. 

You closed your eyes when you felt both his hands cup your face. 

“Talokan is forever in your debt...I am in forever in your debt.” He whispered softly and leaned in to press his lips against yours. 

You let out a content sigh and kissed him back. Namor finally parted his lips from yours and stroked your wet hair back. “You will always belong here in Talokan, here with me.” Namor leaned in to kiss you again. 

For the first time in your life, you felt loved...

Dividers By: @firefly-graphics

#requests #namor x reader #namor x you

[fandomxpreferences]

Safe and Sound Chapter One: Vodka and Party Tricks

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x female!reader slow burn

TW: mentions of abusive ex (nothing specific), pining, mentions of drinking, angst

Summary: After running away from a less than ideal situation, you stumble into Bradley while working your first shift at The Hard Deck.

Word Count: 2.6k

You check in the mirror one last time before heading out the door to start your first shift at the Hard Deck. You make sure to lock the door and triple-check that it’s secure after ensuring your new security system and cameras are working properly.

Once you're confident that your home is impenetrable, you make your way to your car quickly and jump in, making sure to lock the door the second it slams shut. You start the engine and begin your journey to your new job in your new city. You’ve just moved here from the other side of the country. Well more like escaped to here, but that’s beside the point.

You pull into the gravel parking lot and put the gear shift in park. You lean your forehead on the steering wheel and take deep, slow breaths while focusing on your surroundings. It’s a technique your new therapist taught you. Breathe in four, hold seven, and breathe out eight. All the while trying to ground yourself by pinpointing specific things you can see hear and smell.

You thought it was stupid at first, but turns out she got her degree for a reason because it works wonders. Once you’re sure you’ve got yourself composed, you swing the door open and take long strides toward the glowing building. It’s getting dark and you check over your shoulder every few seconds as you cross the parking lot.

You silently wonder if you’ll ever feel safe again, or at minimum not feel impending doom every time you step foot out of the house. You shake the thought out of your head, refusing to allow him any more power and control over you. Three years was long enough.

Once you're inside you find your new boss, Penny, and she gives you a quick run down before throwing you right into the swing of things. You push down the panic of not being able to keep tabs on everyone in your proximity and busy yourself with work.

Over at the pool tables, Jake lets out a low whistle, grabbing his teammates' attention. “Look at the pretty new lady penny dragged in.” He practically purrs and Bradley’s eyes shoot up to try and see what the blonde is talking about. The second his gaze lands on you, the rest of the world fades away.

Jake is right, you’re pretty. Not hot or sexy (though you definitely are) but beautiful. He’s enamored immediately and the rest of the group notices. Phoenix shakes her head with a small laugh and even Jake can see the lovesick look in his friend's eyes. Usually, he would make a bet or try to compete for your attention but he’s cocky, not cruel.

Many women have tried and failed to elicit a reaction from Bradley. The way you’ve completely captured him without even knowing he exists has Jake immediately withdrawing from the race. You’d just be another conquest for him, but Bradley seems like he just locked onto his entire future in a matter of nanoseconds.

The curly-haired pilot watches as you smile half-heartedly, clearly overwhelmed by the number of people in the bar. Despite your flustered appearance, he thinks you look like an angel.

You have a light sheen of sweat covering your neck and chest and your ponytail has untamed flyaways, a telltale sign of your stress. At that moment he decides he won’t be able to eat sleep or breathe without putting a name to your face and hearing your voice.

He hands his pool cue to Bob haphazardly before weaving his way through the crowd in your direction, never taking his eyes off of you. He finally stops at the bar and waits patiently for you to make your way to him. It takes you a couple of minutes but you finally turn and are met with beautiful hazel eyes and a heart-stopping smile.

You heave a breath and give the man a tired smile while wiping your clammy hands on your jeans. You wait for him to order and frown slightly when he just looks you over.

“Can I get you something?” You ask cautiously and he snaps out of his daze. You notice a blush creep up his neck and the corner of your lip quivers when you realize you caught him staring.

He clears his throat and leans forward a bit. “Another beer, please? And your name?” You quickly turn to grab his drink and hand it to him with a grin. “Y/N.” You answer and he feels his heart soar. “Y/N.” He repeats with a smirk. “Your name is just as pretty as you.” He hums and now it’s your turn to blush.

You shake your head from side to side and laugh nervously. It’s been years since you’ve been hit on and if another man even looked at you, your ex would make sure you paid for it. It still makes you nervous and you fight the urge to check your surroundings again. “I don’t know about that.” You mutter and the man scoffs.

“You’re breathtaking, don’t sell yourself short.” He says and you just smile shyly. “I’m Bradley. After your shift do you maybe wanna come join me and my friends?” He asks while nodding his head toward the group of aviators.

Your eyes dart between Bradley and his friends a few times while your mouth hangs open. “Uhhhh,” you hesitate, but the look in his eyes makes you feel like he’s not a threat. “Sure. Why not? I’m off in an hour is that okay?” You ask. The whole point of coming here was to start over, what better way to do that than befriend a group of elite pilots.

Besides, they’re probably here all the time anyway. Can’t hurt to get to know your regulars, right? You watch as a wide grin breaks out on his face and he gives a short nod. “Yeah! Yeah, that’s fine. We’ll be here most of the night anyway.”

You return his smile and nod. “Okay,” you say while pointing your thumb over your shoulder at the growing crowd. “Duty calls. I’ll see you in an hour.” He taps the bartop twice before heading back over to his group. Y/N. Your name lingers on his tongue like the sweet taste of candy and your voice swirls around his mind.

An hour later you’re clocking out and trying to calm your heart rate down. You take a few minutes to ground yourself and check your appearance in the bathroom before heading to find Bradley. It doesn’t take long seeing as the group is laughing loudly by the pool tables.

You stuff your hands in your back pockets and start in their direction. Bradley seems like he’s been waiting for you because he notices your approaching figure immediately and his face lights up.

He stands and meets you halfway with a smile that causes the corner of his eyes to crinkle. It's endearing and you feel your stomach do a flip.

“There she is!” He exclaims while throwing his arm around your shoulder. “How was the rest of your shift?” He asks and you shrug. “It was okay. Busy, but it makes the time go by quicker.” He nods in agreement and leads you over to three men and a woman.

“Hey,” he says to grab their attention and they all look over at the two of you. “This is Y/N.” Everybody greets you and you give a shy wave and quiet hello. Bradley turns to you and begins pointing at each person and telling you their names.

“That’s Phoenix. The three over there are Hangman, Bob, and Coyote. There’s usually a couple more but they stayed in tonight.” He explains and you frown slightly. “Hangman and Coyote?” You inquire and he laughs lightly.

“You’re not from around here, are you? Those are their call signs. It's kind of like a nickname.” He clarifies and your mouth drops open to form an oh. “Ah, I see. What’s yours?” You ask while looking up at him and he smirks. “Rooster.” He says simply and your eyes narrow.

“Rooster? How’d you get that name? Are you a morning person or something?” You inquire innocently and he chuckles while taking a sip of his beer. “Something like that.” He quips and you find yourself smiling again.

“Come on, let's go sit down.” He says while leading you to a booth off to the side where you can watch the game of pool going on. “You want something to drink?”

You pause for a second and debate your answer. “Um…Yeah sure. Why not?” You answer and he grins. “What do you want?” It takes you a second to land on an answer. You haven’t been allowed to drink for three years, and you’re not even sure what you like anymore.

You finally decide on a safe choice and look up at the man who’s still got you pulled into his side. “Vodka cranberry?” You tell him in an unsure tone and he nods. “You got it, sweets.”

He slides out of the booth with a wink and goes to order for you. A couple minutes later, he returns with a cup full of red juice and hands it to you. You take a drink and hum at the taste. “Good?” He asks with an affectionate twinkle in his eye and you nod. “Very.”

He slides back into the booth and your knees knock together. “So where are you from?” He asks and you swallow thickly. “Out east.” You keep it vague while trying to give him a satisfying answer. He notices your reluctance and doesn’t push the subject.

“That’s cool. I came from out east too. I went to UVA and was stationed in Norfolk for a while before getting assigned here permanently.” He offers and you’re grateful that he turned the conversation to focus on him.

You take another drink and nod. “It's beautiful out there. Especially during fall. I always enjoy taking long drives when the leaves start changing.” You recall fondly and Bradley observes the faraway look in your eyes with intrigue.

“We’ll get along great then. I have an old bronco and used to take the doors off and drive around for hours. Maybe we can do that sometime.” He smiles and you grin. “Yeah, maybe.”

He takes another sip and studies your features. He loves the way your nose scrunches slightly when you laugh and your hair has frizzy flyaways. He loves how your brows furrow when you’re trying to understand something and how you avert eye contact when you're flustered. You’re the most endearing and beautiful woman he’s ever met and he wants to know everything about you.

“What brings you to North Island?” He questions and you sigh. “Nothing specific. Kind of just got in the car one day and drove as far as I could. Landed here a couple of weeks ago and fell in love with it, so I decided to stay.” He can tell there’s more to the story but doesn’t want to pry.

“Well, I’m glad you did.” He tells you sincerely and your lips quirk. “Me too.” You notice a presence behind you and your body stiffens when a hand lands on your shoulder. Bradley frowns slightly when he sees your shift in body language but doesn’t say anything.

“Hey, Y/N. You any good at darts?” You turn slightly and see the man Bradley introduced as Hangman sporting a wide smile. You relax slightly and nod. “I can hold my own.” You tell him and he nods.

It's the truth, you used to be really good at darts. It was almost a party trick the way you could land the bullseye with your back turned to the board.

But that was before, and this is now. You haven’t played in years and you’re not certain that you still possess the skill. Nonetheless, you’d like to see if you’ve still got it in you. Jake nods his head toward the board. “You wanna play?” He asks and you chug your drink before standing up.

You feel the vodka hit your bloodstream as you start moving and wobble a bit. It's an old familiar feeling and you didn’t realize how much you missed the buzzing in your body and mind. It takes the edge off and you feel yourself letting go for the first time since you met your ex.

You can’t explain it, but being around Bradley makes you feel safe. You’ve only known him a couple hours yet something in you knows that he would protect you if it came down to it. You never had that with your ex. In fact, he was the one you needed protecting from. But something deep in your chest tells you that Bradley would never dream of treating you that way.

You turn and press a kiss to Bradley's cheek with a sloppy smile. “I’ll be back. I have to go stake my claim as the champion of darts.” You quip and Hangman snorts behind you. “We’ll see about that.”

You turn on your heel and quirk an eyebrow. “Yes, we will.” Bradley watches as you make your way over to his group of friends and he’s fairly certain you’ve completely won his heart with almost no effort. You weren’t even trying, you’re just intoxicating while being yourself and he already can’t get enough.

He stares in awe as you take the darts from Phoenix and stand back an extra foot than what’s required. You effortlessly throw each dart and every single one lands on the bullseye. You have one left and his mouth drops open as you turn around to face away from the board.

He sees Hangman shake his head in disbelief with a short laugh. “No way.” He says and you turn to look at him with your eyebrows raised. “You wanna bet?” You tease and he crosses his arms over his chest. “Yes actually. $20 you don’t even hit the board.”

You pretend to think for a second before a wicked grin covers your face. “$50 says I make a bullseye.” You challenge and he scoffs. “What, are you scared?” You pout and the blonde pilot puffs out his chest. “Fine, make it $100 because there’s no way.”

You throw your head back and laugh loudly. “Easy money.” You say with a wink and Bradley's pretty sure he’s going to marry you one day. That thought is only solidified when you close your eyes and launch the dart back over your shoulder, landing in the dead center of the bullseye.

You stick your hand out, not even bothering to check that you made it. You know from the screams and cheers of the other three pilots that you can still pull it off. Hangman stares at the board in shock for a few seconds before reaching into his pocket and handing you the money.

You walk back over to Bradley and tuck yourself into his side while waving the $100 bill around. He shakes his head and stares down at you. “How are you real?” He ponders with pure wonder and you chuckle.

You sit and talk for while longer before looking at your watch and noticing it's almost midnight. Your head turns to look at the man next to you and he groans. “Don’t tell me you have to go.” He pleads and you give him a sympathetic look.

He doesn’t need any more confirmation and his lower lip juts out. “Are you working tomorrow?” He asks and you shake your head no. “Can I get your number then? Maybe we can hang out?”

You nod your head and take his phone to put your number in and text yourself. You push your hair back and smile. “I’d like that.” He smiles brightly and leans down to kiss your head.

“I'll text you.” He says and you stand up. “I'll be waiting.”

Taglist:

@drakelover78​

@manyfandomsfanvergent​

@ssprayberrythings​

@disturbedbeautywrites​

@desert-fern​

@one-sweet-gubler​

@callmemana​

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@oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #Bradley Bradshaw topgun #bradley bradshaw angst #rooster top gun #rooster x reader #rooster imagine #top gun imagine #top gun maverick #top gun angst #rooster angst #bradley bradshaw

[rubynationwins]

Actions Have Consequences (Dark Fic! 18+)

Dark! Lloyd Hansen x Reader (Drabble)

Main Masterlist

Lloyd is so happy to have you home, but he needs to show you what happens when you don’t listen to his rules.

WARNINGS: This is a dark fic! It includes minor character death, graphic descriptions of violence, murder, and blood. ANGST. Also mentions of guns, abduction, vomit, and manipulation/mental abuse. 18+ Minors do not interact. DNR if you do not like or are triggered by such topics. Read at your own risk.

You were surrounded by five intimidating men in tactical armor, being ushered through the halls of the large mansion you had hoped to never set eyes on again. When you reached the giant ballroom that was currently being used as the center of operations, the two guards in front of you parted. There he stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by mercenary minions, with a wide grin on his face.

“There she is!” The confident voice sent shivers down your spine, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You were back.

“I knew you couldn’t stay away for too long, princess. Welcome home,” Lloyd was wearing a tight fitting short sleeved sweater, light tan pants, and loafers, looking like the king he believed himself to be. 

Internally, you cringed at his use of the word “home.” This wasn’t your home. It was your hell.

He stretched his arms wide in a gesture that to an outsider would appear warm and welcoming, but you knew was just a trap. Instead of stepping towards him, you shuffled your feet, dreading what was about to come. 

Lloyd dropped his arms, chuckling, “That’s so like you, princess, playing hard to get, acting all shy.” As he spoke he slowly crept towards you, hands in his pockets, posture relaxed. You stayed on edge. He stopped about a foot away from your trembling form and placed a hand around the back of your neck. You gasped as he tugged you into him, resting your forehead against his. He breathed in your sweet scent, “I really missed our little cat and mouse games, while you were gone, but it looks like I won this time!” His grip tightened, “But I gotta hand it to ya, you were pretty good this round too, I bet you even thought you’d finally gotten away from me. I hope you enjoyed that glimpse of freedom, because I’m not gonna be so lenient with you anymore.” 

You whimpered, tears starting to well up in your eyes, Lloyd moved your head back to peer down at your pained face. He shushed you, “It’s okay, princess, I have a feeling you’re finally gonna learn your lesson.”

Tears were actively falling from your eyes now, “P-please.” It came out as barely a whisper.

Lloyd just tilted his head, “Awwww, you know I love it when you cry, princess, but those alligator tears aren’t getting you outta trouble this time.” 

He turned over his shoulder and slapped his hands together, the loud sound making you jump. “Bring ‘em in!” At his command, four people were shoved into the opposite side of the room and lined up along the back wall, guns pointed at them from all sides. One woman and three men, their faces bloody and beaten. 

Your stomach fell to your feet. Please god, no.

Lloyd turned back around to you, “Now, the rest of the guards on duty the night you escaped have already been dismissed,” His smile lit his face with evil intent as he walked backwards, closer to the struggling captives, “but I decided to keep a few around so you could see first hand the repercussions of your foolish actions.” Suddenly he spun on his heel, pulling out his gun and shooting the first person on the left, point blank in the head. You screamed as the body slumped to the ground. 

He turned back to you, “Sorry, was that too loud? Should I have given a warning?” his eyes were alight with bloodthirsty glee, “Here’s one, ready?”

“No!” your scream did nothing to stop Lloyd from executing the next person, this time landing two rounds in their chest. 

“This is pretty good target practice, princess. Gotta say, I feel almost grateful that you ran off so selfishly. I felt like team morale around here has been pretty down lately,” Bang! Another body flopped to the hard floor, now red with fresh spilled blood. “And nothing brings a group together as much as some quality time together, getting some shared experiences in, right, fellas?” His men crowded the room. They grumbled a reply, knowing Lloyd didn’t tolerate silence when he asked a question.

You couldn’t stand it, you crumpled into a ball at your feet, rocking back and forth as you tried to drown out the sounds and images that were replaying in your brain. Harsh footsteps made there way towards you and you were yanked to your feet, brought face to face with Lloyd. “I feel like I’ve made it pretty clear that you can’t hide from me, princess. You can’t hide from the consequences of your own actions either.” Your eyes bounced around the room, frantic to escape his crazed gaze. All you were met with were accusatory glares and pitiless expressions. 

Finally, your eyes landed on the last person standing in the line of Lloyd’s victims. Her eyes were filled with hatred, rage, and fear, you wanted to look away, but you couldn’t. Another shot. A red hole appeared in between her eyes, then she too fell to the floor. You hunched forward, wrenching up what little food you had in your system. You were dangling over Lloyd’s firm arm, shaking with shock and fear. He stood you upright, a pleased smile played across his hardened features, “It’s good to have you back, princess, I missed you. We all did!” 

A/N: Damn! I had something completely different in mind and did not plan on it getting so dark, but here we are. Lloyd will really just do that to you. I will probably write more w/ this pairing, bc Lloyd does things to me & I need to write some dark & dirty smut😈 If you have any requests for this pairing, lmk! P.S. This will most likely become a plus size reader in future installments, so yeah😉

Update! I did write more & it’s so dirty: Front Row Seat

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #dark!lloyd hansen x reader #dark lloyd hansen x reader #dark fic #the gray man #the gray man netflix #the gray man fanfic #chris evans #chris evans character fanfic #mine #My writing #rubynationwins

[zablife]

Aurora Meets Rose

Rose Solomons x Aurora Sabini Changretta

Author's Note: Written for @raincoffeeandfandoms birthday event celebrating the Peaky fandoms' female OCs! Happy birthday, darling 🎈These lovely OCs are the brain child of @raincoffeeandfandoms (Rose Solomons) and myself (Aurora Changretta). I'm sorry it's so angsty, Flor, but Rose is the heroine here rescuing Aurora from a life of misery so I thought this was a nice tribute to your OC! I hope you agree. This will be part of a larger work titled My Sun, My Moon and All My Stars coming soon! (Based on this moodboard with a few changes.)

Warnings: mention of terminal illness, mention of domestic abuse, mention of blood

Rose expected someone quite different from the woman she was meeting today. She’d heard Aurora Changretta was a tigress, someone who never gave an inch to her enemies. However, the woman who stood before her bloodied and broken was not in a position to argue. She might listen to the plea on Rose’s lips so she began in earnest.

As Rose handed over a flannel dipped in cool water, she admitted what she wanted. “I’ll be blunt, Mrs. Changretta. My Alfie has cancer. He’s riddled with it. The doctors say it’s probably from the gas during the war,” she explained with furrowed brow as though she didn’t understand or believe the words that came from her lips. However, Aurora knew them to be true. They were the admission of someone who loved deeply and had not yet come to terms with an imminent loss. 

“I’m sorry,” Aurora responded. “But I don’t see how I can help,” she admitted.

Rose cleared her throat and straightened her shoulders, rising to her full height. “You can get that man out there to go home. Leave us in peace for the days we have left,” she asserted.

Aurora bit her lip to keep a bitter laugh from escaping. Instead she just shook her head. Taking a deep breath she turned to Rose and spoke slowly to make the other woman realize her predicament. “You think I tell him the ways of the world? No, he doesn’t listen to me anymore,” she admitted, dabbing at her wounds. “He has very little use for me these days,” Aurora admitted in a soft whisper.

“You’d die by his hand? Because that’s where you’re headed, love,” Rose warned, recalling her own difficult past. “Won’t you try?”

Aurora paused for a moment, a trickle of bloody water running down her elbow. This went against everything Aurora had ever been taught. You never spoke against your family, no matter what happened. Her parents ingrained that in her at an early age. However, her parents’ marriage had been one based on love and respect.

As she sat in the damp distillery, listening to the distant sound of machinery, she thought of her future with Luca and his intention to crush her beneath him became abundantly clear. He didn’t care for her as he once did. When the money and the resources were gone, he would dispose of her.

Finally Aurora mumbled one word into the darkness of the small room, keeping her voice low in case Luca was nearby. “How?”

Rose inhaled a sharp breath, chin rising suddenly with renewed hope to meet Aurora’s wide hazel eyes, full of questions and doubt. She knew how hard it would be to ask this of kind of trust from a stranger, but if she could convince her to take the first step, the rest would fall into place.

“We get you to Tommy Shelby,” Rose said confidently.

Aurora shook her head violently. “No, please. He’ll kill me.”

“He won’t. He’s not Luca,” Rose promised, rushing the rest of her speech for fear Aurora might bolt in fear. “This vendetta was started by the Changrettas and your husband is using your family to fund his war. Now he’s asking my husband to help. It won’t stop unless we say so. We can stop him, Aurora. Will you join me?” Rose asked, reaching for Aurora’s bloodied hand.

Aurora’s lip trembled thinking of crossing Luca, but she had had enough. If there was one thing her father taught her it was to fight for her own interests and she knew she still had fight within her. 

“Yes, I’ll help you,” Aurora agreed on a shaky breath, reaching for Rose.

“We’ll protect you, I promise,” Rose said, intertwining her fingers with Aurora’s stained fingertips. The blood that tainted her would soon be washed clean.

#Peaky Blinders fanfic #Peaky Blinders imagine

[aquagustd]

first fall - MYG

he’s the only smile in a crowd of frowns, the only hand that reaches out when you’re drowning, the taut string that will never snap, still, you take him for granted. something you’re willing to change.

✩ a flashback drabble for hell is empty: drabble masterlist ✩

pairing — platonic yoongi x reader (past jungkook x reader)

genre/rating — R | fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

word count — 2.1K

listen to — still learning by halsey

warnings/tags — THIS DRABBLE INCLUDES HEAVY TOPICS SUCH AS ALLUSIONS TO MILD SUBSTANCE ABUSE & CHILD NEGLECT - not for sensitive readers. oc’s thoughts are all over the place, single parent!reader, best friend!yoongi, mentions of financial difficulty, a traumatic incident concering junho, poor healthcare, strong language, talk about hie jungkook (yes, this is a warning), a lot of tears, overthinking, soft, understanding, sweet, patient yoongi 🥺 + one vv cute baby

note: me trying to write platonic yoongi x reader 🤒 this takes place two months after yoongi’s wedding — rewind. this drabble covers the ‘fountain’ incident.

“Last one, last one. And…there we go! All done. Nice and clean, hm? Wait here for me.”

Yoongi leaves Junho in his makeshift crib, setting down the tiny nail clipper on the coffee table before passing you an uneasy look. You watch him from your seat in the lounge, the throb in your head painful and incessant. Junho leans on the edge of the couch, banging his chubby fist on your thighs, then bringing it up to his mouth to bite on his chubby knuckles.

When your eyes meet – his big, glistening, clueless eyes – you can only imagine that the guilt flooding every corner of your heart must show on your face. Bottom lip quivering when he reaches for your clenched fist, babbling and drooling.

That’s exactly what he is – clueless. Unaware of what a terrible mother you are.

You don’t deserve him.

Yoongi walks straight into your thoughts, setting down the plastic bowl filled with a pale orange puree.

He hooks his hands under Junho’s arms, lifting him back onto his lap before securing the bib around his neck, ensuring that the Velcro at the back is snug.

“Time for dinner,” he sing-songs, arm fitted around Junho’s belly tenderly as he mimics the sound of an aeroplane, chuckling when Junho accepts the spoonful eagerly.

You don’t deserve him, either.

With an anguished sigh, you divert your gaze to your hands, unable to stop your knee from bobbing as you try to take three calming breaths. Another three. And another. But you fail to escape the onslaught on hateful thoughts. Hate for yourself, your situation, your past, present and equally lamentable future and the man that left you to deal with it all by yourself.

He left you.

You can say that with confidence. Jungkook left you alone. All alone, your desolate, deserted, barren heart. He ensured that it remains that way.

“Open up! Smiley! One more! Good boy.” Yoongi kisses the side of Junho’s head, balancing the baby on his knee as he waddles to the kitchen to rinse his hands and mouth. His laugh echoing in the small space of your crummy apartment.

Defeatedly, you look away, fingers curled around your knees before your gaze falls on your reflection in the silver vase you keep on the coffee table. A poor attempt at adding some life into your home. Hoseok’s beige beanie sits atop your head. It looks different on you. He always looked handsome, no matter what he wore and you?

You yank it off your head, letting it fall from your hand. Leaning forward to prop your elbows on your knees, fingers pressing into your eyelids, trying to ease the ceaseless burn in your head.

But Hoseok. Hoseok is gone too. He left.

Even if he said you’re not the reason why – you know you are. And today only proved exactly why he left.

But that’s just you. Never enough to make them stay.

A pendulum, from the past to the present, only getting worse. Louder, more painful and difficult to bear. You hold your hands to your ears, rubbing it away but it only worsens.

Like everything else in your life.

“The nurse said we should talk to him more,” Yoongi sighs, huffing down on the couch with Junho between his legs, now holding the new toy you had picked out today, caught between little teeth. His smile falls as he turns to you, stiffening visibly against the cushions.

Furiously, you wipe away your tears, cheek pressed to your shoulder as you face the other direction but it’s too late, because he already saw.

“So, when are you guys moving out?” You sniffle, shifting the attention away from you which is a dumb idea since you know that you’re still going to discuss what happened earlier today. No matter how many times you try to change the subject.

“Not anytime soon,” he replies curtly, stare burning into the side of your face, “Yuri’s staying at her sister’s place tonight.”

The tiny bit of relief you feel is not enough to wash your burgeoning guilt away. They’ve only been married for two months, and so much has happened since then. Yoongi is forced to deal with your bullshit. And Yuri doesn’t know half the things that had happened. You wish you could keep it that way, but she already witnessed the worst of it all.

The fight.

A ball forms in your throat, stuck there. Stubborn and unmoving while you’re forcing the images away. Begging yourself not to revisit that day.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?”

You nod, slotting your fingers together as you place it over your eyes. The light suddenly too bright, Junho’s little shouts too loud. One strangled exhale and you’re back at the mall, grocery bags in hand as you wait for Yoongi in the parking lot, sat beside the water fountain.

Tears brim your eyes.

“I don’t know…I was just,” you sob, chewing on your lower lip as you recount the upsetting events from only a few hours ago. Yoongi’s eyes are on you, no sympathy, but concern. “It happened so fast, one second he was crawling out of his carrier and the next he was…he was in the water.”

He’s clutching Junho to his chest, a comforting hand running down the side of his head.

“And then?”

“And then I—“ You choke, a pang of insurmountable guilt paralysing you enough to have the words fade off your tongue.

“I just want to know,” he mumbles, struggling with his own words, “why didn’t you pull him out when you saw him in the water? Do you know what could’ve happened? He could’ve--”

Blank. It’s all blank. And you told him this earlier. Why won’t he believe you?

“You can’t be trusted around your own child?” It’s a question, but you know that it’s also an accusation. He’s refusing to believe it, but he asks you again. And your guilt won’t allow you to become defensive like you did right after it happened. Because you want to know why yourself. Why didn’t you jump into action as soon as Junho fell? Why didn’t you save your baby? Why did you call for Yoongi instead of reaching out to pull him up yourself?

Was it shock?

Your mind is saying you’re making excuses for yourself. You don’t want to believe that you’re a useless mother.

Why didn’t you save your baby?

The stack of brochures the clinic had given you as their ‘treatment’ instead of proper healthcare facilities sits above the TV stand. As if that could help you cope with whatever it is you’re dealing with. But that’s just your life, the only treatment you could afford for your baby.

Yoongi exhales a shuddering breath, one that you haven’t head before, his chin propped on Junho’s head.

“The nurse said it’s normal for some mothers to go into a state of shock when something traumatic happens to their child,” he begins, confirming your suspicions as if that could prevent you from thinking otherwise, “but they had no idea that…that you’re using.”

You blink. The mention of it alone enough to have your nails dig into the skin of your knee.

“And I’m not saying that you didn’t…that you were able to help him. Because,” he shakes his head, rubbing the crease between his brows, “Hoseok left me to deal with the shit he started.”

As if you’re a stubborn child, refusing to sleep with the lamp off. As if you’d need guidance and coaching. Because you’ve developed a bad habit. And that’s exactly what people like you need to break it. Again, your guilt refuses to accept the fact that Yoongi has been trying to help you for weeks now, but it’s also your guilt that’s telling you not to put him through any more trouble and figure shit out yourself.

“Come on, ___. Look at him,” he barks, gesturing to Junho who’s resting against his chest, “just look at him. I know that I have to watch what I say to you. But if I can’t help you then let him help you!”

You’re blinking away tears, biting into your cheek hard. The hollowness of your heartbeat ringing in your ears as you watch your son topple onto the couch, staring up at you with puffed up cheeks.

“Mummmmmmm—ah!”

The corners of your mouth cracks, lifting into a teary smile before you bend over to kiss every inch of his face, sobbing into his neck.

“Not for me, not for yourself but for him!”

Yoongi’s poignant words set off a wave of different emotions, rumbling through you in soft sobs because there’s no other way for you deal with it. No other way you know how. Squishing Junho’s cheeks between your hands, thighs under your chest as you cry and cry and cry. And Yoongi lets you, tears of his own lining his bottom lashes.

“I didn’t want to say this,” he chuckles once your sobs die down, helping you up to a seated position, “Jungkook was my best friend. But after everything he said that day…everything he did. Fuck him.”

A little shocked to hear him talk about Jungkook like this, you laugh softly, pulling Junho into your lap as he goes on with his rant, even if what he’s saying is extremely difficult for you to hear.

“Sorry—” he covers Junho’s ears “—I know you were waiting for him, so was I. But he came back, gave you an ultimatum and LEFT. He fucking left you this time. He chose the life he claimed to hate so much over you and the child that’s not only your responsibility but his! He’s not worth it.”

Yoongi’s voice is nasally but firm, index finger poking into the armrest once he manages to calm himself.

“I know…I know it must’ve been a shock. To see you with a child, but he would’ve known if he had at least called ONCE during that time. Just once.”

You never stopped to think that Yoongi must’ve been hurting as much as you, wondering where Jungkook had gone. No communication. Nothing. And he’s right, he could’ve tried to make contact anytime during that year, but he didn’t. Missing out on everything.

But he doesn’t care. He made it very clear at Yoongi’s wedding.

“And he has the cheek to say that Junho is not his child! Look at his face! Look,” Yoongi exasperates, frown replaced with a grin when he pinches Junho’s cheek and he giggles, “this is Jungkook. This is baby Jungkook.”

Even if you know he’s just trying to lighten the mood, the sob that puffs out of your lips is loud and broken, wiping Yoongi’s smile off his face. You can’t help it. Junho looks exactly like his father and it’s all just heart-breaking, forced to accept that Jungkook wants nothing to do with you and your son. But what’s even more terrible is that he asked for you. And what happened to Junho was none of his business.

If you lose Junho, you lose your life.

With that thought in mind you pick Junho up and grab his tiny arms, wrapping them around your neck and kissing the side of his face.

He’s your baby, he should be enough for you. Your heart was never deserted or barren ever since he entered your life. How blind can you be? How ungrateful and insensitive can you be not to realise that your days filled with drool and baby babbles was all the love you ever needed? His slobbery kisses and warm cuddles.

And his big, doe eyes.

Your bleary eyes fall open, finding Yoongi watching you intently before his arms fall to his sides, beckoning you closer with a defeated sigh.

“Come here.”

Tentatively, you lean into his chest, one of his arms circling your figure while the other fits around Junho. This is rare, something that you appreciate because it’s safe, it’s always been safe with Yoongi. He’s busy smiling at Junho who tugs at the locket around your neck.

“Don’t worry, I’ll always be around,” he snorts, patting your shoulder, “are you gonna listen to me from now on? I know it’s going to be hard, but Yuri and I will be there to support you for as long as you need us to.”

You nod against his shoulder, still following the pendulum but willing to forget. Because there’s one thing you promised yourself – you’d be the mother you always wanted as a child.

The locket comes loose around your neck, caught between Junho’s fingers before you pull it from his grip, examining the damage tearfully. But you can’t bring yourself to be angry, and even if the clasp can be fixed within a second, you don’t try to.

Instead, you tuck it away into your jewelry box.

and that’s how hell is empty began … 🥹 i’m yoongi biased can you tell 🤪 please send in feedback, I would love to hear what you think !!

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© aquagustd 2021-2022 do not copy/repost/translate

#yoongi x reader #yoongi fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook series #bts smut #bts fanfiction #bts imagines #bangtansorciere #bangtanbathhouse #btsgoldnet #houseofddaeng #bangtanarmynet #btsdreamcourt #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you

[chorusgirls]

𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙳𝙴𝚅𝙸𝙻, 𝙷𝙴 𝙶𝙰𝚅𝙴 𝙼𝙴 𝙰 𝙲𝙷𝙾𝙸𝙲𝙴. 𝙰 𝙶𝙾𝙻𝙳𝙴𝙽 𝙷𝙴𝙰𝚁𝚃, 𝙾𝚁 𝙰 𝙶𝙾𝙻𝙳𝙴𝙽 𝚅𝙾𝙸𝙲𝙴.

…  STAGE NAME   …  dove moreno.

…  NICKNAMES   …  dovie. legs. slim. gin or ginny to select few.

…  BIRTH NAME   …  ginevra grace marín.

…  AGE   …  thirty-three.

…  GENDER  …  cis woman.

…  SEXUALITY  …  bisexual. kinsey scale 2.

…  CIVILIAN OCCUPATION   …  headliner of old world casino, celebrity.

…  CRIMINAL ASSOCIATION   …  associate to burning gods: spy, informant, emissary, honeypot. in short, their errand bitch.

…  NOTABLE ATTRIBUTES   …  transatlantic accent. white hair, roots meticulously bleached. physical proportions aided by the latest technology: temptation down to a science. never caught undone; hair, makeup, and outfit are always carefully curated.

 …  CHARACTER INSPIRATIONS   …  grace faraday ( gangster squad ).  satine ( moulin rouge ).  roxie hart ( chicago ).  qi’ra ( solo ).  joi  ( bladerunner 2049 ).  gilda  ( gilda ).  jennifer north  &  neely o’hara  (  valley of the dolls by jacqueline susann  ).  chenault  (  the rum diary  ).  dinah lance (  birds of prey & the fabulous emancipation of one harley quinn  ). mae (  reminiscence  ).  marilyn monroe.  the gun moll, misunderstood femme fatale, noir heroine, & golden age starlet archetypes.

( + ) alluring, brave, confident, adaptable, astute, composed, clever, protective, loyal.

( - ) guarded, opportunistic, materialistic, manipulative, delusive, cynical, distrustful.

𝚂𝙿𝙰𝚁𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚃𝙴𝚂. * trigger warnings: brief mention of alcoholism and domestic abuse.

A BRIGHT SPOT IN A DIM PLACE IS JUST CALLED A STAIN. that much dove learns early, before she’s sloughed off an old name and bleached a new one in. her life is simple, the walls of the family’s aching apartment kept up as much with sheer force of will as they were plaster. most of what the marín family possesses fits in the palm of a hand: a crumpled cheque from a poorly-paying job, a slip from the bookies on what is owed, the neck of a bottle of jack, and the quickly bruising arm of your daughter. it’s a trite story. she prefers not to think of it.

 the way young ginny marín looks at the world has less to do with greed and more to do with dissatisfaction, a concept wider and more open-mouthed than avarice. her desires as a girl are not always outlandish, but her tastes all bare the name of more: more than they have, more than they can afford, more than can fit in the flat of a provincial life. she hears you don’t need it as often as the familiar bray of her name.

for all that she desires the girl is no thief, though she’s learned the proper feint and step to slip out of a drunk father’s grip before he can do harm, slipping out the window onto the fire escape as if an intruder. it’s there that she finds her first real escape, fifteen and pretty and wrapped in a threadbare robe, watching as the sun slips its shoulder coyly down over the brooklyn bridge. that’s how i’ll escape, she thinks, not looking a moment at the overpass that could take her past the city lines. bright eyes fix on the orange sky instead, watching how it burns. bright and beautiful enough that even the men in the street below stop to watch it wink.

the importance of a lacquered shell is that shines without offering transparency, glittering without lending clue as to either what sits beneath or the strength of the external sheath itself. there is a surprising solidness to ginny, despite the way she shimmers in even dim lighting; she works after school, stores the money, keeps her head down in a neighbourhood that glimmers with silver blades imploring you to look up. largely she avoids the pitfall of handsome crocodiles with pale teeth, but the night is alive with them. some nights it’s unavoidable to have her back pressed to their scaled chests, particularly when daddy has debts he can’t repay.

the truth is that a girl can only climb so far on her own. at a certain height her limbs can’t stand the pressure, aren’t made to go any further without the aid of something dropped down from the sky. auditioning from the time she’s eighteen, and five years later she’s still only barely beyond the dim cabaret bars and off-off-broadway productions she began with: a lauded burlesque performer, an actress with talent but only bit parts to show for it. so she watches. listens. waits. there’s plenty of gangs in this city, and any number of them could sweep her off her feet with a shot from what lays in their holster. but the real power isn’t in mortal men and their bullets. to get her where she wants to go, she needs a god. and when she finally finds one she lays across his lap, pink feather fan fluttering with the same impact as her eyes, stirring everything in the room. the kittenish act drops when they stand alone in a private room. my name is dove. i need you. and you need me.

the ascent is a careful meteor, plausible while still monumental. acting does not have enough to be gained from it, she’s told, but they can make her like that smouldering sunset from memory: too big, too beautiful to be ignored. she is always expected to bring worth both to the table and stage, and they cannot make a star out of tin on a string: but oh does she know how to shine. they love her. they see her. finally, she’s safe.

five years she’s headlined the biggest entertainment complex in the entirety of the city, and paradise begins to curl in on itself, apple trees bending at the waist and dropping rotten fruit to the ground below. five years she’s headlined, seven she’s been indebted to the burning gods, thirty-three she’s been possessed by something other than herself: poverty, cruelty, men playing god. the sum, when added together, equates to too much. no matter what she accumulates and hands over, the scale of the gods come up uneven: more, it says. you’ll give us more.  but they’ll learn same as you did all those years ago, sitting on a cold grate staring at the sky: the sun is not meant to be owned. 

𝙷𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙲𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙽𝚂.

her act at old world is very much a full cabaret/vaudeville show, with dance numbers, singing, and burlesque elements (dita von teese’s notorious giant coupe routine, feather fan tease, etc) with a massive cast and budget. there was initially more burlesque/stripping elements, which she’s fought to remove over time as she wants to be taken seriously.

the most used image in personal/commercial holograms and motion billboards in the city, though the bulk are in the entertainment district. most are advertisement for old world, supplemented by product ads, and is the currently #1 downloaded avatar (akin to joi from bladerunner 2049).

despite her visual presence in the city, is known as something of an enigmatic figure. she talks little about her life in interviews (though it has been heavily implied she came from money)  ⸺ though her romantic escapades are often discussed and guessed upon ⸺ and only attends the events she chooses.

has a blue-eyed ragdoll cat named nana that’s her whole world. yes nana has a pearl collar, what of it?

despite their influence and lifestyle, the burning god’s command over technology is one of the major reasons she approached them for partnership – who else could scrub the world of her old self?

clothing / style is (as you can predict) very 40s-50s. owns more fur coats and stoles than you care to know.

𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙽𝙴𝙲𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂.

OF ALL THE GIN JOINTS, you walk into mine. exes with a particularly lengthy and torrid past. no matter the time that’s passed since they’ve called it quits, tension diffuses in the air when they share the same room.

YOUR NAME IS A GOLDEN BELL HUNG IN MY HEART, I would break my body to pieces to call you once by your name. those that knew dove when she was just ginny, a pretty girl from the bronx with either the desperation or the fortitude to make it big. ex-best friends, romantic partners. slanted more towards angst and hurt.

SEE YA LATER ALLIGATOR, in a while crocodile. white crocodile members. similar to the above, but oriented for antagonism. does not necessarily have to be someone who knew her personally (though could be! there’s likely few crocodiles around that still recognize dove as ginny marín, but it’s not impossible! ex-best friends and romantic partners still welcome), but should have some kind of information on who she was before she became untouchable. a nefarious carrot on a stick, as it were. cheshire cat and alice. always taunting, always out of reach.  

THE JAWS THAT BITE, the claws that catch. a boogeyman, a jabberwocky, a ticking crocodile coming after captain cook. an individual who gets their kicks attempting to terrify dove. make it plain ol’ masochism for the fun of it or give it an obsessive slant.

YOU BELONG TO ME, do you understand? the burning gods higher-up (consigliere, underboss, boss) responsible for bringing her into the fold, and subsequently the reason she’s risen to the heights that she has. preferably the person she reports to directly. would love to have this mixed with a romantic/sexual angle for the complication and toxicity of it all.

I COULD KEEP YOU SAFE, they’re all afraid of me. quite simply, her protector - one not hired or forced into the role through professional means, but forged by personal bond. they might want to see her leave the burning gods entirely, or have simply decided to keep her safe regardless. 

WHAT WE HAVE, they cannot bleed from us. substitute family. should have grown up in the bronx around the same time as dove, or been of a similar life path that could have seen them meeting early on. the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb, and they’ve never let go of each other.

EVERY STEP I HAVE TAKEN, has been to take me closer to you. her first infatuation, and one that she’s carried with her unspoken for years. they met before she was a name and face, and on every step of her ascension into fame she’s wondered if this - this new girl, updated, perfected - could be the one they’ll love. very sayuri/the chairman from memoirs of a geisha inspired. likely someone with money, success, or both, but not absolutely necessary. can be discussed!

BECAUSE MY MAGIC IS AS STRONG AS MY ARM, and i am never denied. must be in power in a gang or with significant political power. preference for a woman, but not necessary. the inverse of the prior dynamic, with dove as the mentee here - a longstanding relationship that began when she was introduced to life among the burning gods, and has counselled her on it ever since. over the past decade has become a close personal relationship.

YOU’RE A NICE KID, now get out of here before i ruin it. someone with a hapless crush on or longstanding pursuit of dove who makes their intentions known, and she continually shuts them down. potentially because she thinks they’re too good to get wrapped up in the web she’s caught in, conversely thinks they’re no good, or is done with gangsters. usually gives them a consolatory pat on the cheek when they leave.

NOBODY PUTS BABY IN A CORNER, unless i’m there with her. must be female. her greatest ally – not for their physical strength or political power, but for the depth of their bond and what they would do for each other. gotham city sirens energy. the power of gworls amirite !!! 

IT SAYS I BELONG HERE, and you will not deny me. should be female and preferably younger, bonus points for someone in the entertainment industry or heavily involved in the performance of femininity. a mentor/mentee relationship with a potential twist of nigh-sisterly love.

COME HERE BABY, put your lips around the barrel of my gun. must be gang member. longstanding friends-with-benefits. despite the fact that dove swears she’s done with gangsters, she can’t seem to quit them. the danger they carry with them makes things more exciting. the good shit like them showing her the gun in their bedside table and letting her hold it

CLOSE YOUR EYES, it’ll all be alright. someone she aided the burning gods in manipulating/conning/getting payback on, which ended with physical assault. she either witnessed the damage being dealt or found them after the fact, making her best attempt at patching up the wounds. to this day she still feels a mix of care and guilt.

YOU’RE ABOUT AS WEAK AS THIS MATCH, but under the right conditions you could burn a house down, couldn’t you? must be affiliated with a non-BG gang. they know dove is aligned with the burning gods, but what they also know is they could do better by her. or more specifically, she could do more for them, and they intend to persuade her to defect. a courtship for a deal with the devil, as it were.

WHAT’S A DAME LIKE YOU, doing in a city like this? should likely be aligned with the fbi or a detective, though with the right slant could also work for a gang member. somebody using (or attempting to) dove in an effort to get information on the burning gods.

SWEETS, you couldn’t ignore me if you tried. will-they-won’t-they hateship/flirtationship with massive sexual tension. i’m too lazy to write any more on this but y’all get it.

MISC CONNECTIONS INSPO: here. here. here. here. here. here. here.

#lawlessintro

[honestlyvan]

(Reposted from DW)

So I try not to make these rambles too powered by salt but considering Impactor is very near my favourite character in the franchise and as a result I read a lot of badfic featuring him out of sheer desperation for something, I'm seriously devastated by the way I've never seen it explored just what a harrowing and accurate description of moral injury and reflexive self-loathing he is.

Like, it's wild to me that we have it in the text, actually on page, that Impactor outright thinks he's a monster. We see it on page! It is written with plain words! He's stuck thinking like "can't survive if the other guy doesn't die", "your life is bought with the blood you spill, and you want to keep living so you best learn to like killing" to the point where he doesn't even want to live anymore and yet he can't stop, he's stuck, there's no safety for him to retreat back to because nobody taught him to value himself in any other way except in balance against someone else.

Like we know. Exactly what Impactor considers horrible, what he considers ugly and unseemly and corrupt. And it's all stuff that makes sense. It's all stuff the most of us probably find a little bit horrifying. We know that his perception of the world is so utterly bleak that there is no way but down, the only trajectory he sees for himself is to slip further and further from that surface because this is just his life now, this is what he is now, this may be what he always was, so isolated in his self-loathing that he can barely see the surface of where the horrible things end, and sure as hell doesn't think he can reach it. He's been cut off from his access to the sublime, to the fortifying, to the beautiful and wonderful and safe, this is all he has left, this is just what he is now.

I think the massive overriding misreading is assuming Impactor has any regard for himself. He may have the ability to act confident and move through the world with intellectual assurance over his own skill, and it's easy to take that as a sign that he has some kind of a core, undivided wholeness of personhood that lets him keep acting like he knows what he's doing. But I don't think that's it at all. His sense of self has been so completely fractured and damaged by the horrors he's committed and been isolated with that they've attached themselves to the space where his sense of self would otherwise be. Again, I'm not even extrapolating -- this just is the text of "Escape".

And then there's the negative influence of Guzzle, another person who thinks the way to deal with your trauma is by committing massive violence on it who has no idea this should maybe be something to discuss with people -- like, we see the way his abandon and reveling in having power and returning the violence drags Impactor down, too, because it's familiar, it makes sense, and then Impactor locks him in a box and goes "I can't fucking do this anymore". It's literally the most unsubtle death wish, it's a textbook flight arrest response, he doesn't want to keep doing the thing he's doing but he doesn't know what else there is, he sees no way out other than down.

And IDK I don't want to cast blame, honestly as a recovering abusive asshole myself, the terrible things he does to other people out of a sense of "this is how it has to be, don't be naive, don't be stupid", the loop of self-justification and grasping for value in his identity as an anonymous source of violence and ruiner of lives is a big part of why I love him so much, and his victims are really visible in the text, their mess deserves exploration and their pain deserves narrative validation, if only for completeness' sake

but like goddamn I just feel for this trash mech so much. He was left locked up with only his own bad thoughts for company, forced in a situation where becoming a worse person was the only way to escape further pain to the point where he's just completely cut off from his access to the sublime, to the fortifying, to the beautiful and wonderful and safe. Like where is there to go when the only things you know what to do are all fucked up? What do you do when all you've been "taught" is that living means killing, but you're getting extremely sick of the killing, when you're tired of your whole life being stained in blood and gore and the traces of the grotesquerie that is living with the knowledge that having power over other people is the ultimate act of survival when you never wanted that?

#Transformers IDW'05 #Maccadam #Sins of the Wreckers #hello have you met my husband #Honestly much of Sinscourse is lost to me because it treats Impactor as having no internality #and like I get why most Sinscourse is about Prowl and Springer #and Springer is absolutely the victim of Impactor's lack of self-esteem #he's a towering bloody monument to all the good he's done and all the bad he's done #but IDK just. Impactor treats himself with such disgust and disregard #and I'd argue most of people's attitudes towards the Wreckers are well-informed by JUST THE SHEER LEVEL OF DISGUST Impactor displays #towards himself and his own #It's very satisfying in a 'claw your own brain bloody' OCD kind of way #to see just how much Impactor despises and still defends the legacy of the Wreckers #There's so much to pull out of his conversations with Roadbuster especially #Maybe this is just me being friends with Stunticon Likers #and realising that a lot of times when people write Impactor #they're actually writing Motormaster with a different paint job #but that may be just me seeing patterns where there are none