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#fan fiction writer
witchy-aunt · 4 months
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Johnny cade head cannons
first fanfic! I'll preface this by saying I wrote this a long time ago art like 2am so if its not great at there's a lot lot errors IM SORRY!! Also 'figured this would good to post with this years new round of middle schoolers who just read the outsiders, genius or low hanging fruit? can't tell.
f/m, no warnings, pure fluff maybe some angsty bits?, Johnny cade x reader
Johnny Cade
“Stay gold, Ponyboy.”
Johnny’s very obviously a nervous wreck so when you got together it was no surprise he was super worried about losing you
whenever it’s cold out he comes to your house instead of staying out in the lot as much as he used too
Late night talks out in the lot
You, Johnny, and pony are like the ultimate trio honestly 
I feel like most fanfics I read say pony’s normally a third wheel after you get together but I disagree in my mind you were already all friends or at least friendly and so when you got together it didn’t change things all that much as far as your friendship with Ponyboy
I feel like he’d have a lot to contribute to the gangs conversations but because he’s too scared to speak up he’d tell you about all his thoughts throughout the day when you’re alone you’re just easier for him to talk too
Dallas is suspicious of you at first but wouldn’t outwardly show it for Johnny’s sake and besides he’d act basically the same way he’d behave with you if you weren’t dating, when he inevitably realizes your good for him I think he develops a soft spot for you like he has for Johnny and Pony
People really don’t account for how “sassy” (for lack of better words💀) Johnny and Pony are and honestly it’s funny as hell, like his sarcastic remarks are rare in front of the gang but hilarious when they happen
I think because he’s so tough starved he really appreciates any physical contact from you even if it’s just a simple hand hold or resting your head on his shoulder
He loves cuddling, he’s def the little spoon most of the time, but when you first cuddle he’ll try to be the big spoon because it’s just what he expects to be the normal he figures that he should act like how Dallas and the guys he sees in movies are the way he should behave with a girl because he’s never really had anyone else to base a relationship off of 
You’re the first person he comes too after being in a fight with his parents, if he’s hurt real bad you’ll always clean him up and spend the night comforting him by cuddling him and talking to get his mind off of it, though I think it might be harder for him to be touched after a fight because he’s just so nervous and shaken, but he warms up too it after a few minutes and it definitely does help him afterward.
He’s always real nervous about messing something up and you being made at him so he needs a lot of reassurance 
He’s honestly real good at comforting people himself, like when your sad he knows exactly how to comfort you and make you feel okay or at least safe.
He’s always anxious about pda but I think he does like to at least hold hands in public at I don’t think he’s all that against hugging you or laying his head on your should in front of the gang even if it means he’ll have to deal with two-bits dumb comments, dal’s taunting smirk egging him on or everyone else’s stares even if it does make him pretty nervous he’ll always accept your touch.
Johnny cares a lot for people and never wants to see those he loves hurting which is a pretty obvious fact but because of this anything that happens to you stresses him out so bad
He doesn’t like fights and it’s rare for you guys to get into one, he’s not the best at communicating but eventually will tell you if somethings bugging him before he’d ever let himself get angry about it, I don’t see you guys getting into screaming fights either, it’s possible but it has to be something really bad
If you got together before he was jumped by those socs I’d think the change of him becoming even more quiet and nervous would be the hardest to watch
He doesn’t have a lot of money pretty obviously but he does like to sneak into the drive-in and save up to take you out whenever he can because he just can’t get enough of spending time with you
Thank you for reading! My requests are open so feel free to send any you have in for Johnny!
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My writing:
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My planning:
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jokingmisfit · 2 years
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Bro, I told my therapist that I write a lot of stories. I made a mistake and told them how sometimes my writing reflects my mental state... Now they want me to bring some into to share! HOW THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO GROW THE BALLS TO BRING IN X READER FAN FICTION TO MY THERAPIST!? WHAT HAVE I DONE!? WHAT DO I DO!?
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bxwitched · 2 years
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Diamonds Are Forever - Part Two
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Warnings: Dub-con, male masturbation, mentions of pregnancy, swearing, mentions of death, experimentation, sexism. Explicit 18+ only, please read at your own risk.
Characters: Soldier Boy x Reader
Summary: You're rescued from being one of Vought's experiments, but are you really safe?
Word Count: 1.3K
A/N: You can find my Masterlist here. Comments, shares and like are all appreciated!
You hum softly as you arch your back and stretch, the muscles roll and relax under your skin and the tension in your spine simply melts. Your fingertips glide over the soft white cotton surrounding you, the spacious king bed is worlds away from the thin, scratchy blanket and the small, hard cot that lined the wall of your cell.
It's the first time that you've truly slept in what feels like years and you have half a mind not to leave the comfort of the crisp sheets. Your eyes start to close, you're slowly drifting back into sleep and then you hear it.
It's faint at first, barely audible but then it sounds again. You try to focus on the noise, it's distant but as you hone in on it it becomes clear enough for you to make out. Your breath hitches in your chest and you still.
The tell-tale slap of slick skin floods your ears, heavy breaths and grunts accompanied by deep rumbles of 'fuck', 'shit', 'yeah'. It's positively pornographic and you curse as you feel your body react involuntarily, you press your thighs together tightly and will yourself to ignore the dull throb forming between them.
Soldier Boy is jerking off.
You try to shut it out, to turn it off, you want to give him privacy and save yourself the embarrassment of hearing him but you can't. Can the others hear him? Does he know that you can hear him? You pull the plush pillow from underneath your head and press it to your face, holding your hands over your ears as you will yourself to block it out, to focus on something else, anything-
The wet sounds become louder as his pace picks up and your stomach knots as his breaths become quicker, shallower. You can almost picture him behind the black expanse of your eyelids, how his chest is rising and falling with the exertion, teeth gritted in pleasure as his hand works furiously over his cock, desperately chasing his release.
He lets out a low groan as he finally finishes and his movements stutter as he draws it out, slowing gradually until he finally stops and huffs out a deep breath. You hear him stand then, his footsteps fade into the distance and you exhale the breath you didn't know you'd been holding.
You throw back the covers and trudge towards your bathroom for an ice cold shower, deliberately ignoring the ache in your core and the wetness that coats the tops of your thighs.
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You grumble out a good morning to Hughie and Butcher as you pass them and make a beeline for Legend's coffee machine, mentally rejoicing as you see that Soldier Boy is nowhere in sight.
You cradle the steaming mug in your hands as you settle at the table opposite the two men and take a long drink of the strong coffee, your head tips back with a moan as you swallow and the warmth of it settles in your chest.
"That good eh, love?`' Butcher is looking at you with an eyebrow raised in amusement whilst Hughie smiles bashfully.
"You have no idea." Your gaze moves over the various papers spread out in front of him before settling on a manilla file with a picture of you paper clipped to the front.
"Did you fill yourself in?" Butcher's mouth sets in a firm line as he nods back at you. Hughie opens his mouth to speak but flounders at the last second and you sigh in frustration.
"Ask what you want to ask, Hughie."
"There were others right? What happened to them? You were the only one there.." You take another sip of coffee before looking back at him, he looks at you with a sad expression and there's pity in his eyes.
"I think some of them died during the infusions, it's a little foggy in places.." You gesture vaguely at your head with one hand. "The ones that didn't, Homelander killed them."
"Why would he do that?" You tip back the rest of your coffee and stare down at the mug in your hands, you run your thumb along the rim of it.
"I heard some of the white coats say that the other girls were sterile after what they gave us, useless. I was the only one left with working parts, I don't know why."
He nods thoughtfully and reaches out towards you, he timidly pats your forearm in what should be a soothing gesture but it just makes you uncomfortable. It's been so long since you've been touched with any semblance of kindness.
Your back straightens as Soldier Boy waltzes into the kitchen and your brow furrows as he drops into the seat next to yours clad in nothing but a green silk robe.
"I'm sorry, have you forgotten how to put on pants?" He ignores you in favour of leering at you, paying particular attention to the swell of your breasts and the lines of your waist in your form fitting top.
"Be a doll and get me a cup of coffee, will ya?" He has a self-satisfied smirk on his face and you frown, fighting the urge to lean forward and clock him in the nose.
"Get it yourself. What do you think this is, the fifties? I'm not your housewife." He scoffs loudly and his face splits into a grin.
"If only. Baby, I'd have you in this kitchen in nothing but an apron and heels."
Your face pulls into one of disgust and he doesn't miss the way your cheeks flush, a heat settles in your chest both from anger and something else entirely. He enjoys pushing your buttons you realise, eliciting a reaction from you. You're about to retort when Butcher raises his voice, clearly bored of the bickering between you two.
"That's enough of that. Now, let's address the elephant in the room, shall we?" He turns to face you fully. "How come you're not up the duff yet?"
Your jaw is clenched so tightly that you think you're going to crack a tooth but Butcher is unwavered by the glare that you level him with.
"They wanted to run a few more tests, make sure that I was ready for use." You scoff and slam the mug down with more force than intended, you wince as the ceramic shatters beneath your hands.
"The one in charge told Homelander he had to wait and he wasn't happy about it, I heard him kill the guy. He came to my cell afterwards, told me that it would only be a little longer until we were together and how excited he was for me to make him a daddy." Your stomach lurches as a wave of nausea rolls through you.
"Fuckin' creep." Soldier Boy shakes his head as he stands and moves to the coffee machine. "He's gonna be pissed when he realises she's gone." You nod in agreement.
"Livid."
"Well, we best hurry the fuck up and kill the cunt then." Hughie nods in agreement but Soldier Boy turns and points a finger in Butcher's direction, throwing him a hard look.
"Not before you help me." You quirk a brow in question and Butcher, turns in his seat to throw him a placating smile.
"Course mate, deals a deal."
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You face blanches and your mouth hangs open slightly as you stare at Butcher in disbelief.
"Sorry, what?" Butcher smirks at you, you can practically feel the sarcasm radiating off of him.
"You heard me, love." He gestures a thumb over his shoulder at Soldier Boy. "We can't just let him stroll in, it'd be about as subtle as a nun in a brothel. So you go in and scout out the twins and then give us a shout, he'll come in, get the job done and it's mission accomplished." You close your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose in exasperation.
"So just to be clear, you want me to gatecrash a supe orgy without getting caught, find two supes and then call old timer over here in to kill said supes in front of god knows how many other supes?"
"Now you're getting it." Butcher's grin widens and you shake your head with a groan.
"Christ, I wonder what could go wrong."
<Part One Part Three >
@je-suis-argent-miel @stoneyggirl2 @little-x-wolf
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yeollie-plz · 2 months
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Big things happening today!
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Back From the Dead
Summary - Jessica Jones finds out that Matt Murdock actually survived the collapse of Midland Circle and she’s pissed he didn’t tell her. 
Notes - Just a one shot. The scene suddenly popped into my head and I had to write it. Set at the end of Daredevil season 3. My first time writing Matt Murdock and Jessica Jones. I don’t ship them but I love their chemistry.
I made the manip myself. I'm going through a manip making phase! LOL! Just a quickie. Scale of Matt and Jess might be a tad off. I kinda guessed it.
***
The knock on his apartment door sounded pissed. Matt Murdock already knew who it was, he could smell alcohol and leather. A smile twitched at his lips. And attitude. A lot of attitude. He also recognised the heartbeat. Different. Stronger. A superheroes heartbeat. There was also a subtle hint of citrus. Nothing she had recently eaten. He had noticed it before. A favourite brand of shampoo he guessed.
When he opened the door her first words were “You’re an asshole, Murdock!” Then she pushed passed him and stormed into his apartment. “You got a beer?”
He closed the door and followed after her. “In the fridge.”
He waited while she retrieved a bottle - no, two bottles he noticed - taking out her anger on the fridge door. He winced as it slammed. She had knocked over milk and orange juice. Good job both were almost empty.
She smacked one of the beer bottles into his chest. “So when were you going to tell the rest of us that you were alive?”
He smiled sheepishly. “It was complicated.”
“It always is with you, Murdock.”
She sat down in one of his chairs, clomping her heavy boots up on his table. “How the fuck did you survive? A skyscraper fell on top of you for Christ’s sake!”
Since she had made herself at home he sat down opposite her and shrugged. “I don’t know. Water pipes, I think.”
“So enlighten me on what you do know. What happened after?”
He sighed. He wasn’t really in the mood for this. “Do you really need the details?”
“I’m a PI, Murdock, and it pisses me off that I didn’t discover them myself!”
“Like you said, a skyscraper fell on top of me. Why would you think I survived?”
When she didn’t answer and the weight of her glare became threatening he leaned back against the sofa cradling his beer in his hands.
“Father Lantom.” Matt’s chest tightened at his name. He missed his friend and his infuriatingly evasive words of wisdom. 
“The church? Of course, damn it!” She slammed her hand down upon the chair arm in frustration. After a beat she added: “I’m sorry by the way. I heard about what happened.”
He nodded, his thanks lodging, and burning, in his throat.
“So…” she prompted impatiently, Father Lantom already forgotten. 
“I barely survived. I was in a bad shape for quite a while. The nuns cared for me.” He decided not to reveal that one of them was his own mother. The pain of losing Father Lantom was quickly replaced by an unfamiliar warmth. It still felt strange to have a mother. But a good strange. They were taking it one day at a time. “To be honest, I still don’t feel 100%.”
She sighed and when she dragged a hand through her hair it intensified the tang of citrus in the air. “People grieved for you Matt. Danny was pretty cut up. You should have told us.”
“I didn’t even tell Foggy and Karen. Not at first anyway.”
“But we could have helped you bring down Fisk.” When he frowned she quickly amended: “We could have made it easier for you to bring down Fisk. If you don’t feel 100% now I hate to think -”
“It’s done now,” Matt cut her off shortly. “Fisk is behind bars where he belongs. And he won’t be corrupting the Feds this time.”
“Amen to that!” Jessica downed the remainder of her beer in one go.
During the brief silence that followed, Matt sipped at his beer while Jessica flicked her bottle neck irritatingly. Unable to resist he eventually smirked. “So, did you grieve for me?”
Jessica rolled her eyes. “No, I was too pissed off that you decided to stay behind to die with that psycho girlfriend of yours.”
He tensed at her mention of Elektra, his smile gutting like a candle flame as he remembered being in her arms, remembered their final kiss as the world had turned to hell around them.
“And do you know what worries me now,” Jessica continued seriously. “If you managed to survive, what are the chances that she did too. Should we be concerned, Murdock?”
He couldn’t deny that the thought had crossed his mind many times as he had been lying in bed recovering. That it still plagued his thoughts. But his survival had been nothing short of miraculous. For her to survive as well? Surely that would be a miracle too far?
“Earth to Matt!”
“Slim,” he snapped. “Pretty slim.”
“But possible?”
He stood up angrily. “What do you want me to say?” He snatched up his beer and headed for the kitchen to deposit the bottle in the trash. “If you’ve finished your interrogation I’ve got a client to see.”
“And I can see that I’ve touched a nerve.”
He frowned back at her. “You have a habit of touching a lot of people’s nerves.”
She grinned. “Touche.”
He followed her to the door but she hesitated as she was about to exit the apartment. “Look,” she blurted, somewhat reluctantly. “I just wanted to say that…I’m glad you’re not dead. We all are.”
He cocked his head, amused. “You guys hang out now?”
“Only on Twitter,” she lied. She took a breath and Matt realised she was actually feeling uncomfortable. “But if you ever want some company when you’re out bashing heads, you know where we are.”
Matt’s eyebrow twitched in surprise. “We? I thought Jessica Jones was a lone wolf.”
“She still is,” Jessica insisted firmly. “But a lot of weird shit has gone down lately. Sometimes a lone wolf needs to run with the pack now and again. Just to mix it up a little.”
He folded his arms and smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“You’d better. Rand won’t forgive you otherwise. He’s been mentally sending you that Chi crap for days now. Healing vibes or something.”
Matt laughed. “Tell him I’m touched.”
He felt her gaze on him a moment longer and then she turned and stomped down the stairs, shouting up to him; “and I miss those cute little ears of yours!”
“They’re horns!”
“Whatever!” she threw back. 
As Matt closed the door, the smell of leather, alcohol, and citrus quickly faded around him but he found himself missing the attitude most of all. He smiled and shook his head despairingly. Jessica Jones was one of a kind.
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l8rs-gat0rs · 1 year
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We need more Jonathan Levy smut as well as more Duke Leto smut. I've been saying this for months🙄
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productofaritual · 5 months
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(Not based on any recent interactions I personally had just to clarify) I think some people need to realize that fanfic writers do what they do for free and just because they want to and they have every right to stop writing or take a break or disappear or get burnt out and not write for a year and then get back.
It might be sad for you. It might leave your fave fic unfinished. But we're all just people. If it bothers you that much make your own ending that's what I do, works great.
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phantombriide · 1 year
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me naming my fics:
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Me: *sends Kinktober list*
Him: “hehe, titties”
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jupitersrising · 2 months
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This is something I noticed myself doing when I’m writing up summaries for fics. I was wondering if other people do the same or if it’s just a me thing.
I'm genuinely so curious about this. I want to pick other peoples' brains about it.
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witchy-aunt · 3 months
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You're on your own, kid [TEASER]
Sam Winchester x Fem reader, song based fic, angsty/fluffy, Bobby SInger's daughter reader, brief mentions of alcohol and abusive behavior (John Winchester hate club)
THIS HAS NOT YET BEEN PROOFREAD THIS IS JUST A TEASER!
Summer went away, still the yearning stays..
You remembered those summers well, the ones where Sam and his older brother Dean would be dropped off at your dad, Bobby’s house. The first time you met those boys you remembered how nervous you felt. Growing up you didn’t have much friends, especially not ones who could ever understand you, the things you knew, and the things you felt. You remembered the nights you’d sneak away with the boys while your dad was asleep to sneak beers and talk, ‘course you and Sam had been the apprehensive ones, Dean coaxing you two by calling you two ‘chicken shit’, and so you did it, you snuck out, and you drank, and you felt like normal kids for awhile. There were other times though, when you and Sam went alone. You two were much more dreamy than Dean. You two could sit outside of the house, and stare up at the night sky without even talking. You remembered the way you’d tilt you head to look at Sam when you thought he was so distracted by the constellations, and his own thoughts, and just stare at him, the slope of his nose, even the shaggy overgrown bangs that fell over his forehead, taking in every last detail you could of curvature of his face. You didn’t know what it was then, that feeling, that yearning.
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realmermaid333 · 10 months
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New fic for @dazedconfused-stonedamused ‘s birthday! Broom Closet Tryst ! 
@averyaddamsromance made this beautiful cover for it! so go check it out!
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winter-literature · 6 months
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Elementary Writing Assignment: Make Your Own Picture Book
Random memory I thought I’d share because I find it funny in a wtf kind of way.
So, I like writing about angst, addiction, mental health, etc. And I was thinking about where/when it started? Someone once told me that in creative writing classes when students are told to write “whatever they want” it was mostly depressing ass shit (ah, the human condition). But I would like to one up the angst.
Picture this: it’s grade four. Life is magical, puberty hasn’t reared its ugly face yet.
The assignment? Write a picture book.
Neat.
I remember the teachers talking with amusement at some of the other kid’s works, flowers, sunshine, and families (so adorable). I also distinctly remember the tense silence of mine.
Cover art description: A broken beer bottle.
(Considering my art skills are still pretty rough, I wish I still had the reference to look at my alcoholism inspired art)
Basically:
Me at 7/8: *super proud* Look at my dark story about beer destroying a family!
Me as an adult: *super proud* look at my fan fiction of several characters who desperately need therapy and use unhealthy coping mechanisms!
The teachers (probably debating a phone call home):
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Me:
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… I didn’t have an understanding of trigger warnings back then, but that damn book needed one 😅
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bxwitched · 2 years
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Diamonds Are Forever - Part One
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Warnings: Non-Con, kidnapping, captivity, swearing, torture, angst, breeding, implied rape. Explicit 18+ only, please read at your own risk.
Characters: Soldier Boy x Reader
Summary: You're rescued from being one of Vought's experiments, but are you really safe?
Word Count: 1.6K
A/N: You can find my Masterlist here. Comments, shares and likes are appreciated!
At first you think you're delirious. Your ears prick at the distant sound of yelling, rapid gunfire interspersed with loud bangs and screams. Your head tilts to the side, your eyes locked on the door as you pick up on the multiple sets of footsteps making their way down the hallways, towards your cell. Not a hallucination then.
That's when you hear their voices.
"Are you sure this is a good idea Butcher?"
"Positive, Hughie. Now let's have a fucking look at what's behind door number three, shall we?"
One, two, three, and the steel door flies inwards, narrowly missing you as it screeches to a halt in the corner of the room. Your eyes narrow as the dust settles and the three men come into view, a dark haired man grins at you wickedly whilst a tall, skinny man throws you a nervous wave over the shoulder of the first. Your whole body tenses as your eyes find the third, he's assessing you with a smirk on his face, his eyes roving up and down your form as he takes you in. He's tall and rugged and like you, a fucking supe; complete with a costume and shield.
"Well aren't you just a doll."
"Who are you and what the fuck do you want?" The supe tsks at you loudly and shakes his head in disapproval.
"A lady as pretty as you shouldn't be using that kind of language." Your eyes flash with anger and you clench your fists tightly.
"You didn't answer me. Is this one of their tests? Did he put you up to this!?" The dark haired man intervenes then, he steps forward slowly, his hands raised in surrender as if he's trying to calm a feral animal.
"Easy, love. We're not here to hurt ya. On the contrary, we've come to get you out of here." You level him with a glare.
"And why would you do that? I don't know you." His face splits into a wide grin.
"Homelander. We're gonna kill the cunt, and you're gonna help us."
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You find yourself ushered into a plush bedroom by an older man named Legend, an old friend of the supe you now knew as Soldier Boy.
The three men had introduced themselves to you not long after leaving the lab and explained that you would be laying low at Legend's home with them until it was time to execute Homelander, much to the eccentric man's chagrin.
You try to shake off the feeling of unease as you find the adjoining bathroom and begin to take off the clothes the scientists had made you wear, desperate to feel clean after so long in that place. You try to will your muscles to relax as you stand under the warm stream and let the rivulets of water carry down your hair, neck, shoulders and back but the tendrils of anxiety still linger in your chest.
Would he find you? And would they be able to protect you if he did?
You sigh as you secure the towel around your body and analyse your reflection in the mirror, despite all of the things they had done to you, all of the pain that you had endured, there were no marks left to show their handiwork. He had liked that, he had called you flawless.
You startle when you walk back into the bedroom, so caught up in the maelstrom of your thoughts that you hadn't heard Hughie come in. He bounces on his heels nervously and gestures to the bags laid out on the bed, purposefully avoiding looking at your state of undress.
"Sorry, I-uh, I should've waited outside, but I brought you some clothes and some food." You stare at him blankly as he stutters, unsure of how to respond to his seemingly genuine act of kindness. He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly and starts to back towards the bedroom door.
"I'll just-uh go now, let me know if you need anything else."
"Hughie-" He stops and turns towards you, his hand resting on the doorknob. "Thank you."
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You lay on your back, eyes focused on the ceiling as insomnia wreaks havoc on your mind. You think back to the other girls, the needles and the screams, the liquid that coursed through your veins, the pain that burned through your body like fire.
A wave of nausea rolls through you as you hear his voice in your head, his praising, taunting, telling you that it was just a matter of time.
The house is silent as you descend the stairs, everyone is asleep and you pad quietly into the kitchen in search of something to calm your frayed nerves. Your eyes light up when you spy a small orange bottle on the counter but you grumble when you pick it up and find it empty.
"Can't sleep?" You turn quickly and throw the bottle of pills at the intruder, freezing when it bounces off of his chest and rolls across the floor.
Soldier Boy leans against the door frame, arms crossed and eyebrow raised as you stare at him. He matches your stare until the silence becomes unbearable.
"No." You stand straighter as he pushes away from the wall, those green eyes of his examining you as he stalks around you. He opens one of the cupboards and retrieves an unopened bottle filled with amber liquid, whisky you think. He smirks and shakes it at you teasingly.
"Won't you have a drink with me, Honey?" You watch him wearily, you don't trust him and you don't want to let your guard down but it's been so long since you've been able to just sleep.
"If you try anything, know that I won't hesitate to tear off your cock." He chuckles then, it's deep and rich and your stomach tightens at the sound of it.
"I don't doubt you'd try."
You settle down on one end of the long couch, not taking your eyes off of him and accept the short glass he holds in your direction, careful not to touch him more than needed as you take it from him. He settles into the chair opposite you and sets the bottle down on the coffee table. He hums as he takes a long sip from his own glass, his legs are spread wide and his free hand rests against his thigh.
"You're strong." He grins at you now and his chest puffs slightly from the compliment.
"Yes I am."
"Strong enough to kill Homelander?" His smile falters then, he leans forward to set his glass down on the table and clasps his hands together, elbows resting on his knees. The way that he's eyeing you makes you uncomfortable and you shift in your seat, he nods once as he considers what he's going to say.
"Why were you in that lab?" You frown at him.
"You didn't read the files?" He shakes his head and you nod as your fingers grip your knee, your short nails dig into the fabric of your jeans, the discomfort grounds you. You're silent for a long time as you run through the events that you remember and try to piece them together, the memories are hazy but not enough for you to forget.
"I was just on my way home from work, I remember waking up in that white room, in those clothes. There were others too, I could hear them, they wanted us to hear each other."
His brows are furrowed as he watches you, you knock back the remainder of your glass and set it down, your features steeled to hide the emotions bubbling just below the surface.
"Homelander wants children and in order to have those he needs a living incubator, but seeing as most supe women are sterile they had to get creative. They tried something new, they pumped us full of chemicals until we changed, it burned like hell and the more they did it the stronger I got, I had more stamina, my senses got better."
You lean forward and grab the whiskey bottle and bring it to your lips, you take a long pull before offering it back to Soldier Boy. He takes it from you with a silent nod.
"Then one day I woke up strapped to a table, they wanted to see how much my body could take, so they poked and prodded and sliced, I didn't bleed, I didn't bruise, but I still felt everything." You breathe deeply, trying to ignore the heaviness in your chest.
"He came to my cell the next day, told me that I was going to be the one honoured with carrying his children, that the others weren't as strong as me, as beautiful as me. I tried to slit his throat with the scalpel I stole from the lab but it didn't even make a fucking dent."
"He didn't try to kill you?" You let out a mirthless laugh.
"Of course he did, he tried to laser me in half but it didn't work, it didn't even mark my skin. That's when he started calling me his diamond and ranting about how our children would rule the world."
You scrunch your nose in disgust as you remember the moment before looking back at the man across from you. Soldier Boy's jaw is clenched tight and his expression is stormy, his eyes have darkened and his fingers are no longer entwined but pulled into fists. You consider him as he exhales deeply.
"Did he?-" You ignore him and shake your head as you rise from the couch and walk towards him, his eyes widen as you snatch the bottle of whisky from his hand and make your way past him to the stairs.
"That's enough sharing for one night."
Part Two >
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s1r3n-m00n · 2 years
Text
Imagine you’re dating Eddie before all of you know what happens and one day offhandedly he ask you “hey how come you never straighten your hair” just out of pure curiosity and you’re like “I’ll tell you what, I’ll straighten my hair when you with graduate or die” as a joke, but then the upside down and everything else happens and you wear your hair straightened to his funeral and you’re crying the entire time, but he’s not dead. He’s a vampire now, but he’s not dead and he’s watching all this go down from a distance and he’s just like oh shit she actually did it I didn’t want it under these circumstances but she did it on top of you know the regular feelings for their holding a funeral for me and my girlfriend is crying for me and did the thing that she said she would do for my funeral so yeah you can imagine he’s torn up as hell.
Just a stupid little thought that I just had while drawing that’s all.
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