#he betrayed me. and i had to kill him. and it hurt | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cherryrainn · 1 day

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Omgigmgmgkgmg imagine striker finding an injured exorcist whom is hurt so bad and she doesn't want to be an exorcist, after awhile she's able to escape being an exorcist and lives with striker in a relationship

𝙎𝙊𝙁𝙏 .

༄ ⠀𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | striker x exorcist! reader.

༄ ⠀𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | injury, striker might be a bit ooc

༄ ⠀𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 | i have absolutely no clue if you wanted me to make the exorcist a reader or some random exorcist so i just did reader hehe. anyway i'm super proud of this. also i changed the ending up a bit so sorry about that </3

Striker sauntered down the dimly lit alley, his long tail swaying lazily behind him. He was bored out of his fucking mind. He kicked at a pebble, sending it skittering across the pavement as he idly scanned his surroundings.

Turning a corner, his eyes caught sight of something not quite out of the ordinary—a figure slumped against the wall. Striker's first instinct was to ignore it and move on. After all, bloodshed was as common as rain in a storm.

He was about to turn away, but then something caught his eye—something that made him pause in his tracks. The figure was bleeding gold—strange, shimmering rivulets that stood out against the backdrop of darkness. intrigued despite himself, Striker approached cautiously, his curiosity piqued.

As he drew closer, he realized with a start that the figure was an exorcist—her spear lying abandoned beside her, her mask shattered in half.

For a moment, Striker entertained the idea of finishing the exorcist off himself and putting an end to her misery with a swift stroke of her own weapon. But before he could act, a voice pierced the silence, starting him.

"You... you're not going to kill me?" The words were barely a whisper, barely audible above the din of the city.

Striker's gaze snapped to the exorcist, surprised to find her conscious and aware of her surroundings. He remained silent for a moment, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts and emotions.

"No," he finally replied, his voice a low growl. "I'm not. Not yet, anyway."

The silence hung heavy between them. Striker could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on him, the gravity of his decision sinking in with each passing second. He could easily end her here and now—she was defenseless, powerless to stop him. But something stayed in his hand—something he couldn't quite explain.

"The fuck happened to you?" Striker finally asked, his tone betraying a hint of genuine curiosity.

Her response was a bitter laugh, a hollow sound that echoed through the empty alleyway. "Does it matter?" she muttered, her voice barely audible above the distant rumble of traffic.

Striker fell silent, his grip on the spear loosening slightly as he considered her words. Did it matter? Did anything matter?

And then, just when he least expected it, she spoke again, her voice trembling. "I don't wanna be an exorcist anymore."

Her words hit Striker like a punch to the gut, stirring something deep within him that he couldn't quite name. He never thought he'd ever find an exorcist willing to abandon their calling, willing to forsake everything they had ever known for the chance at a different life.

For a moment, Striker found himself at a loss for words, his mind racing with a million different thoughts and emotions. And then, without a second thought, he made a decision. Fuck, he was crazy.

"Come with me," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle. "I'll take care of ya."

The exorcist's eyes widened in surprise. "But... why?"

Striker shrugged, his expression unreadable. "I don't know. Call it a moment of weakness."

With that, he gently lifted her into his arms, her weight surprisingly light despite her injuries. careful to avoid drawing attention, Striker maneuvered through the streets, his boots echoing softly against the cobblestones.

They reached his cheap, rundown hotel room without incident. Striker pushed open the window with his foot, the hinges creaking in protest as they entered the cramped space.

Setting her down on the edge of the tub, Striker turned on the faucet, filling it with warm water to soothe her wounds. He rummaged through his meager belongings, searching for his med kit. He can't believe he was doing this. Was he finally going crazy?

"What's yerr name?" He asked, his voice softer now as he located the med kit beneath a pile of dirty clothes.

The exorcist hesitated for a moment, her gaze fixed on her legs. "Y/N," she finally replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Striker nodded, acknowledging her response, responding with a "Striker." before he moved to tend to her wounds. His touch was rough, and as he worked, Y/N winced at the pain of his touch, but she remained silent, enduring it as best she could.

She knew she should be grateful—he was helping her, after all—but she couldn't help but feel a sense of unease at the roughness of his messages.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Striker finished patching her up, his expression unreadable as he stepped back to survey his handiwork. She took a deep breath, relieved that it was over, and she mustered up the courage to speak.

"Thank you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Striker glanced at her, his eyes narrowing slightly, before he nodded in acknowledgment. "Don't mention it," he replied gruffly, his tone betraying none of the emotions swirling inside him.

With that, Y/N gathered her strength and made her way to the window, her movements slow and unsteady. She knew it was probably time to go anyway.

Before she climbed out of the window, she hesitated, glancing back at Striker one last time. "I'm sorry," she said softly, her voice barely carrying over the distance between them.

Striker said nothing in response, but he watched her go with a sense of resignation.

A few days later, Striker was sauntering down another dim alley, thinking about how much time had been wasted since he’d helped Y/N. Maybe he was getting soft, but the thought of her was lingering in his mind.

Lost in thought, Striker nearly missed her—a figure slouched against the wall, this time with no wings, no halo, not really bleeding anymore but obviously bruised. At first, he didn't recognize her. But then it hit him like a ton of bricks.

"Shit!" he exclaimed, breaking into a run.

Reaching her, he skidded to a halt, his eyes wide with shock and concern. "What happened?" he demanded, his voice laced with genuine worry.

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes meeting his, and she smiled—a soft, sad smile that made Striker's black heart clench in his chest.

"I'm not an exorcist anymore," she said softly.

Striker stared at her, the pieces falling into place. He didn't know much about this heaven shit, but he could only assume one of the higher-ups had ripped her wings and halo off like some fucking sicko. So much for being good.

For a moment, Striker was at a loss for words, his mind reeling from the revelation. And then, without thinking, he reached out, pulling Y/N into a tight embrace, as if he could shield her from whatever she must be feeling.

"Fuck 'em," he muttered against her hair, his voice rough with emotion. "You're better off without 'em."

Y/N buried her face in his chest, her tears soaking through the fabric of his jacket. And as they sat there, clinging to each other in the dim light of the alley, Striker realized he didn't give a damn about getting soft.

Sometimes, he thought, moments of weakness weren't such a bad thing after all.

#STRIKER #striker #helluva boss #striker helluva boss #helluva boss striker #helluva boss x reader #striker x reader #helluva boss striker x reader #y/n #reader insert #x reader #ask #hazbin hotel

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arcticwaters · 5 months

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something something reckless dangerous decisions something something confronting mortality

#critical role #cr spoilers #ashton greymoore #laudna #laudmoore #my art #critter role #i drew this right after ep77 but the parallels i saw between them got more confirmed for me in 78 #i spent the ep trying to figure out why laudna was so upset (betrayed was such a strong word for something that had little to do with her)#(like yeah the shard was important but like it wasn't hers it wasn't imogen's it was his journey not theirs. i get being upset but THAT?)#''why didn't they learn my lesson'' was very telling to me and all but confirmed my theory that she saw herself in him #she made a choice to kill bor'dor in a way that risked waking up dalilah but did it anyway because she needed it; a sense of control #the same day she learned that dalilah had become extremely strong and could not die without /her/ dying she watches #ashton make a choice that they knew risked everything but did it anyway for a sense of control. and he dies.#he dies right after she realizes she may have to die to protect her loved ones but it will HURT #and it does hurt; fearne gets hurt they all get hurt #''why did they break her rock?''#ANYWAY it's like i said in another post: 'they are a child' she says as she cuddles a toy and asks an older woman to hold her #also so sorry i'm shit at effects

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lord-squiggletits · 9 days

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Like fundamentally my Pharma apologism is basically just flipping the script and making Pharma the protagonist instead so that "crazy mad doctor torturing Ratchet the good Autobot" is instead flipped around to "Heavily traumatized ex(?) Autobot gets revenge on his best friend killing him/leaving him for dead and stealing his body parts."

Honestly I feel like the one misconception that ppl have that makes their interpretations of Pharma or Pharma and Ratchet interactions really bad, is that too many ppl in the fandom treat(ed) Pharma like some random creepy stalker that barely even knew Ratchet, as opposed to Ratchet's literal best friend that only lost contact with him right before Earth events happened (so basically after 4+ million years of friendship they hadn't seen each other for like...2 years tops which is nothing in the average Cybertronian lifespan). Though I can't blame them because sometimes the narrative likes to forget that too in terms of acting like Pharma is solely in the wrong/everything Ratchet did to hurt him was deserved bc Pharma killed people and was stupid/arrogant/shallow.

Like ppl have GOT to understand that Pharma and Ratchet were best friends since before the war started. For reference that would make the length of their friendship comparable to Ratchet and OP's friendship. Which means they would've been REALLY FUCKING CLOSE, not that you really have to read between the lines to see that when Ratchet himself mentions how he and Pharma used to talk late into the night together.

So when Pharma is obsessed with Ratchet, it's not bc he's some delusional stalker who doesn't even know him and is just projecting all of his hates/desires onto Ratchet. It's because they were literally lifelong friends that only broke up/fell out of contact like a year prior. Pharma DOES know Ratchet. He DOES have a meaningful relationship with him. He DOES have the right to be pissed off at Ratchet because a lifelong friendship gives Pharma a claim to Ratchet's regard. Not in a "oh you HAVE to stay friends with me" kind of way, but in a betrayal sense of "oh you did me DIRTY for someone who used to call me his best friend." Imo there's an obligation between lifelong friends where if you hurt them or break up with them, it's a serious deal and you can't treat them like a stranger just bc you hate them

#squiggposting #idk me projecting my philosophy about friendship yet again #pharma apologism #the narrative of m/mtte really wants you to forget that they were best friendols #or at least think that their friendship means nothing for how ratchet should treat pharma #which is fucked up imo bc there are friends that i have/had #where even if we were no longer friends i wouldnt suddenly find it acceptable to like. hurt them #the weight of our former friendship is such that i respect them even if we're no longer friends #so anyways pharma is not 'obsessed' or 'stalking' ratchet #he's a spurned and betrayed best friend seeking revenge on the guy who killed him #(or put him in a situation where he would die)#something about friendship as a sacred bond where some ways of breaking it #arent merely 'parting ways' but a betrayal of treating someone you love as an enemy

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gayemoji · 5 months

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im going to kill a certain vicadin addict so bad. not before i give him some actual unrequited love first. i love him but he is so stupid.

#house s3 #abt wilson ratting & getting the deal & house spiralling until he wants the deal but bc spiralled he got the deal vetoed #stupid !! hes so stupid and its not even his fault !! im not even mad at him im mad at a fictional cop !! for good fucking reason !!#holy shit this show is ridiculous #cuddy may have had custody over the wilson-cuddy braincell thsi week but clearly wilson was behinf the wheel so its all worthless #WHO RATS ON THEIR FRIEND TO THE MEDICAL MALPRACTICE CASE #its actually insane he even got THAT GOOD OF A FUCKING DEAL out of RATTING ON FORGING PRESCRIPTIONS #IM KILLING A CERTAIN ONCOLOGIST house is still braindead stupid for being too stubborn to take the deal #and i think every1 but cuddy and cameron should be thrown in jail #ACTUALLY the whole gang can stay theyre flAwed but house and wilson are beyond saving those gay boys need the chair #WHY CANT THEY JUST ADMIT THEY CARE ABOUT EACHOTHER W I T H O U T BETRAYING THE OTHER HOW ARE THEY B O T H TSUNDERE #the way he walks out on house just oding on his floor is also so insane to me .#something something 'i would die for you' is obviously lying bullshit #'i would leave you to die thats how much i fucking care about you you IDIOT' is actually real AND THEN HE TRIES TO TAKE THE FUCKING DEAL #i am so upset #my guys are going to kill eachother out of sheer love and its only fucking season three.#i am in for a world of hurt 🫡#house md #live #m #rambling #t

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gazelessmenagerie · 8 months

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“be honest...Would you kill your own father?” -Broly

send me "be honest..." with a question your muse has been dying to ask mine and they'll answer truthfully.

Not once had he been asked about his father until that point.

The snap of his head was already an egregious display of his answer, expression caught in a moment of surprise with how his eye widened enough to be noticeable over his shoulder. His mouth remained a thin line, the loose coagulation of whatever thoughts he had been running through in what chores and tasks that needed to be done on that day fell into a disquieted silence as his body stalled to a grinding halt amid its journey to the water basin carved by his own might several weeks prior.

What had brought about such a senseless question by some whelp lucky enough to encounter him while the midday sun was blazing hot was a question in its own right.

' He's already dead. ' Was what he wanted to say but instead, another set of words replaced what his brain thought, sliding through the dried canals of that beating organ. Memories of the past were all it was comprised of, trudging through the veins that were long since abandoned as the harsh reality of surviving through hardship after harship coalesced into a single droplet. Paragus was the only man he knew for the majority of his life up until his death. He was only man who raised him and dared to love him in the ways only a father would love a son still so small and clinging close. Stories spoke of how their mighty race once once, filling naive eyes with hope to one day be reunited with a pocket of Saiyans that might yet still exist somewhere with him as the next reigning king. Rebuilding their civilization, destroying their enemies, it was what any Saiyan child could want but those times of frivolous dreams fell to ruin as the years came by and the magnitude of Broly's own power easily devoured like a ravenous ecplise over his father.

His father taught him how to survive, watched him with a keen eye and was mindful to not neglect the intellect that Broly held behind the piercing visage of his eyes. Tactics of combat, diplomacy of political frivolities were skills given and honed through his father's grand plans of seating his son on that lofty throne that lay in the realm of a dream. Threading words coaxed by their constant nomadic lifestyle of venturing from one planet to another became a necessary facet of survival to evade the radar of the same reigning empire that destroyed their race. To be smarter than one's pursuers, remain low to the ground like a stalking predator and attack when the moment was right. Nearly everything that Broly knew could be traced directly to his father...

He fought when he was of age, learned everything he could be taught when it came to destroying his enemies. The blood he spat and spilled, the amount of times his bones fractured and broke, the burning hatred felt for those who looked to claim both of their lives for what they are. Anger was the only way to survive, the only way a Saiyan is to be to attain greater power. It couldn't be counted on both hands the amount of times the Legendary Saiyan felt he might've died while growing up in facing off against stronger opponents for one reason or another. He needed to adapt quickly and with greater power, pushed forth by his father as they went from living as exiles to taking over villages, towns, cities.. and entire planets.

Everything he did had been to make the man who raised him proud.

" ... I don't know. " He spoke softly under his breath, easy to miss as much as the small glimpse of what might've been a small shred of regret.

And yet he killed his own father in cold blood during an outraging rampage.

It was deserved.

It was the product of years of control and ordering him around, forcing him to obey every damned command.

' I'm sorry son, but you'll die with his planet as well. '

' " Where do YOU think you're Going... Dad? " '

' " Broly..! I was.. preparing the ship for us to leave together. "

' " In a ship made for One? " '

Convoluted emotions were a disgrace to his Saiyan blood. The love of a mere child knowing nothing more than what his father did to ensure survival. He was the only Saiyan left for what felt to be years upon years. He loved him. And it only made the betrayal all the worse that the fleeting moment of tenderness that collected in that dewdrop resting over those dried canals evaporated with the contrived, twisted half-truths that could never be a clear cut answer. Both sides were true in that he hadn't wanted to kill him in a small, desparing corner but the hatred and vileness spoke a larger voice as its half of the truth spoke a simple fact on the matter as though he were only commenting on the weather.

" I already killed him. "

#|| Tag: Answered #particlecreator #|| Gazing over the Abyss of Stars { Broly }#( ohhh that was juicy. thank you. )#( suffice to say. its a VERY controversial topic for my portrayal aflsdjg )#( just bc I think on how hard was it to live basically in harsh environments while most likely being hunted by people after the geno/cide )#(of the saiyans. i mean they were wiped out but there had to be some stragglers )#( I can imagine the guy has some very extreme feelings over his dad but he doesn't say shit cause lmfao )#( its just so damn twisted I dont think even he knows how to begin processing that than to default )#( to being angry and hateful like he was raised/learned how to be bc its just easier )#( than to say he might actually feel regret about killing him or that it hurt to be betrayed by the man he loved )#( as a boy; as a son would to the only father he knew. )#( like hell??? idk. its just fascinating to me how paragus cared for his kid and even after losing an eye albeit not the same as before )#( and knowing his own son is a monster that he unfortunately created and had to control through his own means. )#( he still tried to treat him with some love but its still a fearful kind. )#( and idk it just makes my heart hurt and makes it 10000x more convoluted and messy for a guy who )#( can't process his own emotions to shove it all down as deep as he can and pretend everythings alright. )#( -slaps broly's ass- this bastard can fit so much trauma and emotional dissonance

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sluttymickey · 2 years

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Hi Drish 🖤

So, when Mickey decided to not kill Frank, did he do it more because he didn't want to kill Ian’s dad or because Mickey never ever had in him the strength to kill anyone?

Lots of luv 🖤

Hi Elisa!!🥰❤️ Sending love right back to you!!🥰

Tbh, I think even though Frank being Ian's dad might've played some part in it, it was mostly because Mickey could not get himself to kill someone in cold blood. That's just not who he is.

Up until the moment he starts walking behind Frank with his gun, he was acting on pure instinct and fear. Someone had seen him getting fucked by a guy. There was a very real possibility that Terry was going to find out about it. It was either get killed by Terry, or kill Frank. His only option was to kill Frank. That was the only thing running through his head as he looked for him all over the South Side.

But then he sees him, and he's walking behind him, he's got his gun ready, and he realises. He can't do this. He can't get himself to kill Frank just like that. That would make him no better than Terry. And Ian might never speak to him again.

He's so angry and frustrated. At himself for not being man enough to just do it and kill Frank. At his shitty situation. At how Ian betrayed him by tipping Frank off.

He tries to force himself to do it even though he's losing his nerve. But then he hears the sirens. He realises he does have another option and so he decides he's gonna fuck up his parole and go back to juvie instead of killing Frank.

What do you think!?👀

#at that moment #i feel like as far as ian is concerned #mickey feels more betrayed and hurt than he feels a sense of obligation that i shouldn't kill Ian's dad #plus he thought ian didn't really give a fuck about his dad #but then ian tips frank off #and mickey's face of disbelief when he realises it????#because.#they'd spent the summer together #they'd started falling in love that summer #Mickey thought Ian understood #he'd started to see it as: me and ian against the world #but then ian goes and tells frank #and even though ian only does it bc he doesn't want mickey to go to juvie for killing frank #mickey sees it as: i thought you were on my side but you're not.#mickey had told him his dad could kill him and he was so hurt and betrayed that Ian wasn't talking that seriously #so yeah #at the back of his mind he knows him killing Frank could have a negative impact on his already ruined relationship with ian‚ but his main #concern was surviving and escaping Terry's wrath #asks #imikhailotakeyouian

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jyoongim · 1 month

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Heyyy, it’s me again, the singer anon. Can I request an Alastor x Reader where she is sent by as a spy by Vox after our fav slithery boy failed? She’s really bubbly and friendly, but she eventually grows to care for everyone in the hotel but Vox owns her soul. She torn in between getting herself killed by him and not betraying anyone anymore, or continuing the job. She goes and confesses to Alastor, breaking down and thinking he’ll kill her, which she thinks would be best so she doesn’t have to betray anyone anymore. Just breaking down in tears telling him she doesn’t want to hurt anyone but Vox has her under a contract, begging him to kill her so she doesn’t have to. Just for Alastor to call her a good girl and ughhhh some possessive smut if you don’t mind? Sorry brain rots in my head and I’m in love with him, lol. Thank you! <3 also the three requests story set off the trigger in my head, loved it! Thanks again! <3!

This been in my inbox for weeks and i finally got a plot for it!

⚠️warning: 18+! Smut smut smut! Plot if you look hard enough!

—————————————————————————————

No one suspected a thing.

You were sent to the Hazbin Hotel after Sir Pentious miserable attempt.

Your orders were simple: ”Keep an eye out on that old fossil. I want to know why that fucker is sucking up the Lucifer’s daughter”

And you did just that…you were executing your mission flawlessly.

Until you began to care about those who stayed at the hotel.

Until you began to grow closer to the Radio Demon.

————————————————————————————

You had been staying at the hotel for a few months now and its been great!

Charlie was always finding new ways to help the residents build bonds and encouraging everyone to do their best.

At first, you were arrogant, playing along until you actually saw the the demons there were actually changing even if they didn’t admit it

But now, you thought of the princess as a friend, along with everyone else.

Especially Alastor.

Now that you’ve been around him, you’re not sure why Vox hate the demon so much.

Alastor was funny, kind (in his own twisted way), and truly looked after the hotel.

A soft smile curled on your lips as you thought about the demon, but the ringing of your phone interrupted such thoughts.

Vox.

You took a deep breath and answered “H-Hello?”

”Tonight’s your chance to take out that prick and after that come home” he demanded.

You blinked “what? B-but Vox…” you bit your lips “But it’s actually nice here. The hotel isn’t a scam…a-and everyone is a lot nicer than we thought ” Vox laughed “Oh baby please! Nice? You actually believe in that redemption crap? You think that they’ll let you stay if they knew why you truly were there? Hahaha! Oh my dumb little girl, how naive you are. ”

You pouted, a frown on your face “I want to stay”

Vox growled through the phone “ah ah baby you don’t make demands remember?”

Electrical shocks ran through your body from the collar you wore.

You gasped in pain “I OWN you. Did you forget that? You do whatever I say when I say it. Now I expect you home before morning or I will kill you.”

The phone call ended and you were in tears.

You didn’t want to go back.

You liked being at the hotel and able to be yourself.

You liked the friends you had made here.

You would do anything for them, even if you had to die to make your wrongs right.

————————————————————————

“Come in” the voice answered after you knocked on the door. You were sweating as you stood outside of Alastor’s door.

You had decided that if you were going to tell anyone why you were at the hotel, it would be Alastor.

You opened the door and walked into his radio studio.

”Hey Al” you said weakly as the demon spun around and smiled at you “Hello darlin! What do I owe the pleasure?”

You fiddled with your hands.

”I want to tell you why I came to the hotel”

Alastor quirked a eyebrow, smile widening as he gestured for you to take a seat on the couch.

”Do entertain me of your tale my dear”

You were in tears by the time you finished telling Alastor everything.

Of Vox and his plan.

The deal between you and Vox.

The reason you came to the hotel.

Everything.

”I-I’m sorry! So so sorry! I-I just didn’t know what to do!

Kill me! I deserve it! J-Just let me say my goodbyes first. I would rather you kill me than Vox! Please!” You cried, hands covering your face as you sobbed.

Alastor had been quiet for the entirety of your confession. He had half a mind to kill you when you told him of your deal with Vox.

The pesky television didn’t know when to mind his business.

His eyes focused on the collar around your neck.

You were Vox’s and by contract, he wasn’t allowed to kill you.

And he wasn’t. No he had grown accustom to the pretty demon who seemed to light the hotel’s halls.

However…he could override Vox’s ownership of your soul.

You flinched when you felt a large hand pat the top of your head. You looked up through teary eyes ay Alastor, who just sported a soft smile.

”Now now my dear don’t you worry. I appreciate that you came to and confided in me. What a good girl you are.” His smile stretched as you sniffled, looking at him with glossy eyes.

”Y-Youre not g-gonna k-kill me?” You asked looking down.

He chuckled as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, claws finding their way under your chin to make you look at him

He rolled his eyes ”Oooh my dear of course not…” His fingers trailed down your neck, toying with your collar. “But I am in a bit of predicament”

You wiped at your eyes “how so?”

“Under normal circumstances, I would rip you to shreds and broadcast your screams for all of Hell to hear” his pupils turned to dials and his smiled turned wicked. You felt your heart stop a little.

He calmed down slightly “however I have another idea to break your deal with Vox”

He smiled at you as you tilted your head in confusion.

”I know just the thing hehehe”

————————————————————————————

You whimpered as you tried to hold yourself up against the force of Alastor’s thrusts. “A-Al!” You whined as the demon tugged your hair to pull your body into his. A deep growl vibrated through you as Alastor sunk into your weeping heat, his cock hitting that soft spot inside you.

“Fuuuucckk!” You hissed, eyes rolling into your skull as your body buzzed with pleasure.

Alastor pulled your body til your back was flushed against his chest, his sharp teeth nipped at your skin before latching on and marking you. You winced as his tongue lapped at the blood, he purred as trailed his tongue up your neck.

”To think Vox had such a sweet cunt all to himself. Ooh darlin you’re wasted on him. But you’ll be a good girl for me wont you? You seem to love having a real cock fucking you” he chortled, giving you a harsh thrust. His hips grinded up into your ass, coaxing your cunt to take every inch over and over.

Your gummy walls tightened around him as you whined at his words. You could barely focus on what he was saying, not giving two shits either as he bullied your insides.

”I-I can be a good girl please please oh fuck! Aah! Aah!” You whined. Alastor’s large hands trailed up your body; kneading, pawing, and squeezing at your supple flesh. Pausing at your bouncing tits to tweak your hardened nipples, sending currents to your abandoned clit.

“I know you will baby”

He nudges his head into yours, to gain your attention and capture your lips with his, swallowing your moans as one of his hands moves down to toy with your puffy clit.

Your body jerked as he rubbed tight circles on the bud; your cunt fluttering as slick dripped down your thighs.

”Ill make a deal with you darlin” he whispered against your lips, lidded eyes staring into yours, as you mewled, wanting his tongue back down your throat.

“I keep this little mishap under wraps and in return you belong to me. Youre free to do whatever your heart but im no pushover m,a cherie.”

His thrusts sped up as he pinched your clit.

You keened, pushing your hips back into his, trying to follow the motion of his fingers, seeking to reach your orgasm.

”Do we have a deal?” He purred never breaking his pace.

Your collar let out blue sparks, Vox’s way of ‘reinforcing’ his control over you. You whimpered as the shocks edged you, but Alastor let out a deep growl as he wrapped his claws around the collar.

”Do we have a deal?” A snap of his hips pulled a moan from your throat.

”oh! Yes! Yes! F-fuuuc-cckk”

Static ran through your body causing you to jerk as your orgasm washed over you, your collar fizzled out as Alastor’s cock pounded your cunt, riding your orgasm out.

The wet SQUELCH! Of your cunt echoed as high pitched whines left your throat.

“That’s a good girl. Cummin all over my cock. Feels better than that robot huh? Yeeesss fuck! Take my cum darlin take it”

Your eyes crossed as your mouth opened in a scream. Alastor crashed his lips on yours, tongue pushing through your lips and pulling you into a heated kiss as he pumped you full of his cum.

Alastor let out a sigh as he slipped out of you, cock coated in creamy essence and smiling as he watched your cunt clench around nothing and dripping cum.

In your dazed state, you faintly heard a snap and a cool sensation coated your neck.

Instead of the sapphire jeweled collar, a gold chained ruby hung from your neck.

Alastor hummed as he rubbed your tired body, smiling wickedly as he slotted back into your soppy heat. You moaned softly as he rolled his hips against you.

”now lets send that mediocre podcast a proper video”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #jyoongim #alastor the radio demon #alastor x y/n #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor smut #vox hazbin hotel #sir pentious

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alllgator-blood · 12 days

Text

I call this one "found family but it goes horribly wrong in an irreparable way" :)

I've been doing a lot of cotl comics but I kinda lost my comic making endurance after not working on art since last september, so I made this to help me flex my art muscles. Apologies for the watermarks lmao they kinda kill the mood but I've already had people repost my art when I put it on reddit so...might as well get the credit if my stuff is gonna be reposted regardless. RAMBLE INCOMING!!

Thinking about how shamura was most likely the one to find + raise their adopted siblings and help them survive the mass deicide that happened thousands of years before....OUUGH. I have so many ideas for comics that take place when half the bishops were still lil kids. I have one in progress right now actually. But it just hurts when I remember how it all ends- they loved their family for so long and yet they credit their love as what caused it to fall apart!!! The lore of the bishops only sunk in when I was dealing with my own heavy sibling angst, and I was like wow....shamura supported the sibs so much they accidentally encouraged their brother into being a heretic, and couldn't close pandora's box in time to save him or the rest of the family. They blame themself for the past 1,000 years and seem to be totally okay with dying for what they did?? Like when they get sent to the shadow realm they tell you to "finish the job" instead of leaving them in purgatory. And despite being the bishop of war, they are the only bishop to not have a "desperate" phase where their attacks get more brutal. They're not desperate, they just want to get it over with. All their other siblings are dead by then anyway so it's not like they have anything to stick around for, even if they were healthy enough to win the battle. Plus I mean...narinder is the bishop of death so they probably just want to see him one last time. Owch

Don't get me wrong I love to hate narinder and his only role in my cult is the guy who cleans the outhouse, but I really like his dynamic with shamura vs. the other siblings. I kinda see him as the troubled kid that couldn't assimilate into the family and shamura took it upon themself to try and fix him. It's interesting thinking about how they're the only one he shows remorse for despite feeling the most betrayed by them. I don't think he 100% hates them, he's just been locked in gay baby jail for so long he's had nothing better to think about than "my sibling encouraged me to experiment with my godly duties, and then punished me for it!!". He's not wrong? But also is shamura that wrong either??? Idk it's complicated with no real answer and I like it a lot, I wish the game told us more about what the bishops were like before they got their shit rocked during the schism. I would've loved to see shamura before their brain was turned to mush by their tbi + 1,000 years of suffocating grief and crushing guilt :)

ANYWAY thanks for making it to the bottom of this rant, here is a sketch I did a while ago of shamura + baby leshy from a prequel au thing I don't have a name for yet:

#cult of the lamb #comic #cotl #cotl bishops #shamura #kallamar #narinder #the one who waits #heket #leshy

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unluckiestmember · 3 months

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Baldur's Gate 3 X Innocent! Reader

Characters: Astarion Ancunin, Shadowheart, Gale Dekarios of Waterdeep, Lae'zel, Wyll Ravengard, Karlach and Halsin

Tags: friends to lovers, acquittances to lovers, in denial, overprotective, fluff, indirect kisses, Gale being Gale, fake love (until it's not), established relationship and innocence.

Warning: SFW. Light suggestive themes.

A/N: Yes, your eyes do not deceive you. No, I'm still in a chokehold-

Astarion Ancunin

“Well aren’t you just the cutest thing ever? I could just eat you right up, darling~.”

When he first met you, Astarion knew you were an easy target. A nice meal he could exploit, especially if you’re a virgin, and a great pawn for the road ahead. He would deliver sweet nothings to you in hopes of sleeping in your bed and drinking from the pure blood that coursed through your veins. But as time continued, as you showed how sweet you were, the pale elf found himself genuinely falling for you.

He wanted to protect you from the world around both of you and bite anyone who tried to hurt you. He’d even hesitate on feeding from you out of fear he’d hurt you or expose himself to your pained gasps. You were his precious jewel he couldn’t afford to be taken from him or tainted in any way. With everyone else, he’s still a flirtatious and snarky vampire spawn. But around you, he will always be a sweet man who wants to make sure you’re okay. His princess… That being said, don’t expect him to stop flirting with you. He adores when you get flustered.

Shadowheart

“Stand behind me! I don’t want you to get hurt! Just do as I say, okay?!”

At first Shadowheart thought you weren’t real. That there was no way in the nine hells that there was someone as pure as you. She genuinely thought your personality was a charade. So she watched you carefully, waiting for you to show your true colors in the form of berating someone or betraying one of the campers. But you never did. You always stayed true to yourself.

When she realized that you were probably the most modest person in your motley crew, the Shar Worshipper became attracted to you. She spent more time with you and suddenly felt like she needed to take care of you along your adventure together. Similar to Astarion, Shadowheart tries to be ever so gentle with you, never using pain in bed and out of bed unless you approve of her actions when she asks for permission. It’s evident to everyone she cares deeply for you and wouldn’t mind spending her life with you.

Gale Dekarios

“It’s been such a long time since I’ve seen the embodiment of happiness. Who knew I would find that in you?”

You had Gale’s heart as soon as you said hi to him. It didn’t take long for this man to turn into putty around you nor to become friends with you. And he fell in love when you always gave him magical objects without hesitation. Asking him if he’s alright and stroking his head after he eats his weave? He was swooned. The closer you two became, the more the wizard would share his life with you like an open book and offer any kind of lesson in magic to you.

It didn’t take long for him to admit he had romantic feelings for you, leading to you to become a couple. At camp, he is a gentleman, always asking if you need anything in between kisses to your cheek and becoming bashful with you when you bless his ears with your giggles. Outside of camp, he’s focused on you, making sure no one lays a finger or spell on that cute head of yours. You bring the best out of Gale and make him the happiest man in all of the realms.

Lae’zel

“G’lyck. If you’re hurt, then go to the ghustil… Hurry up or I’ll drag you to her myself.”

You were a liability to Lae’zel. Always getting hurt? Never killing your enemies? Checking up on everyone over yourself? She wanted nothing more than to throw you to the wolves so you wouldn’t ruin the group’s odds of survival. She hated you with a flaming passion. She hated how you always asked if she was okay. How you always treated her wounds after a battle and dare to kiss her injuries better. How you cowered behind her during combat.. And especially how you made her heart flutter when you slept across from her by the campfire, watching your cute face in a state of peace…

If it was up to her, she’d kick you out of the camp for what you’ve done to her. She swears it. But for now? She guesses she’ll keep you around for a little longer. Besides, she knows without her you’d die out there. You need her and she needs you.

Wyll Ravengard

“Don’t fret now, I won’t let them lay a finger on you, not when the Blade of Frontiers is right by your side.”

Wyll always wanted to have a romance like fairy tales. Save a fair princess or prince from their troubles like a knight in shining armor while slaying dragons. To meet someone who was the sweetest thing alive and experience real happiness with them by his side. So when he met you, you can bet he felt like he won the jackpot! He found your bashful nature and careless personality to be a breath of fresh air, especially when he was punished by Mizora.

At first you were a great friend, but when you took care of him, polished his horns and always checked if he was alright after fights, true love sprung between you two. It didn’t take long for him to confess his feelings to you and take your hand as your boyfriend. From that day forward, he’s been your savior on and off the battlefield when he wasn’t your sweet lover that showered you in compliments and kisses. You are positive that with Wyll you are bound to have a happily ever after.

Karlach

“Aww, you’re so adorable I just wanna squish your cheeks and hug you forever!... I can?! Well, come here, you!”

It was love at first sight between you and Karlach. After you splashed her with water and made sure she was okay, the barbarian’s heart was in your hands. She was so used to meeting backstabbers, manipulators and liars that she wasn’t sure there were any good people left. But you proved her wrong and she was so happy you did. Because of you, she made it her sole mission to get infernal iron so she could touch you.

When she couldn’t, she would share indirect kisses with you using rocks and even gift you her teddy bear Clive when you couldn’t hold her. And when she finally was able to touch you, she held you as if her life depended on it. There isn’t a moment where you two are not touching in and out of camp. You make her feel alive again in more ways than one and to her you are her soulmate. She loves you so much and will do anything to make sure you know that.

Halsin

“If you were a part of nature’s divine design, then you are a pure ray of sunshine given by the Oak Father.”

Halsin immediately gave you his trust and respect when you saved him without a reason to. It didn’t help that he also found you to be adorable with how nervous you got around him and how you stuttered a bit. With how you were, the druid quickly grew an interest in you, wanting to be beside you and feel your skin against his. He loved how you were so considerate when he wild shaped, petting his head and playing with him effortlessly.

In the wilderness, you were something like his mate, always protected by foes and checked for injuries. If there were any, he would bandage them as quickly as he could and carry you the rest of the way back to camp. When everything was settled, he’d immediately cuddle you as himself or as a bear. You were perfect in every way to him and for that, he would be your sole protector no matter what.

If you got any requests for Baldur's Gate 3, send them my way!

Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay hydrated and have a good day! <3

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notmyneighbor · 20 days

Text

Let Me In ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader

Chapter 4

Word Count ~ 4.5k

Rating ~ Explicit

CW ~ minor blood and violence, sexual content

Also available on AO3

taglist @luthien-elvenia-asher

Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok

You’ve only barely begun to recover from the wrung out feeling of ultimate bliss when you hear it: the warning klaxon, followed by the sound of tires screeching to a halt. The aggressive roar of truck engines. Doors opening in rapid succession. Loud voices and boots pounding on pavement.

The doppelgänger jerks upright, sliding off the bed and wrenching the curtains to one side to peer down at the scene unfolding on the street below. “They’re here,” he says, and for the first time you detect something like fear wafting from the imposter.

A flood of relief washes over you. Someone had alerted the disposal unit. It wasn’t too late to save lives after all.

You search for your discarded clothing, hurriedly sliding the retrieved garments back into place. Francis’ copy looks at you.

“They’ll know you let me in.”

“Yes,” you agree distractedly, hastily shoving the hem of your blouse back beneath the waist of your skirt.

“They’ll know,” he says again, more firmly this time, moving in front of you, one hand closing around the wrist you’ve yet to refasten the shirt cuff upon. “They’ll know about me.”

You stare at him, realization kicking in. The others were safe. You, however, had no such guarantee. “Are you going to kill me?”

“I should. You’re a liability.” His grip on you abruptly relaxes. He’s merely holding you now. “Your organization will punish you for this.”

You shake your head, trying to hastily tuck your hair back into place. “Not once they hear my explanation.”

The intruder scowls. “What defense will you offer? You knowingly let a replicant into your precious building.”

“I…” Your confidence wavers as you begin to consider how your actions will appear. He’s right. There’s no excuse for what you’ve done. You’ve not only failed at your assigned task, you’ve betrayed your own kind. An unforgivable crime.

He seems to read the slight panic on your features, his voice gentling. “Suppose we make a deal,” he says.

You look at him warily. “What kind of deal?”

“I make it look like you were attacked while you tried to fend me off. Make up some doppelgänger appearance when they ask you. Don’t tell them about Francis’ death. You get to live. I get to go down the fire escape, avoiding extinction.”

A life for a life, in essence. The elevator was temporarily disabled the second the alarm was pushed, but it won’t take the team long to sweep each floor. You were running out of time.

“Okay,” you reluctantly agree.

He turns your arm over so the underside is exposed, thumb pressing firmly just below the hollow of your elbow. “This will hurt,” he cautions. The only warning you get before you see it: that thing inside of the milkman breaking through, emerging. A sickly gray-green digit topped with a sharp yellow claw. He drags it right through the fabric of your shirt, right through your skin. It burns. A blossoming line of red appears, your lifeforce weeping out of the laceration. You feel lightheaded and nauseous.

“Don’t look at it. And don’t let it get on the carpet. We need to leave, now.” He steps back into the milkman’s shoes, not even bothering with the laces. You follow him to the front door, exiting the apartment. Locked again. You hear voices echoing in the stairwell, the heavy tred of the suited disposal unit pounding on the steps.

“Remember what I said.” The imitation’s knuckles graze your cheek, the touch almost tender. The injured arm cradled against your chest is throbbing. “I’m going to knock you out. It will help further disguise what happened.” The voices are getting louder. They’ve finished on the second floor, making their way to the third. The doppel’s fingers curl around the back of your neck, his mouth brushing yours hurriedly before your head is slammed against the wall, sending you hurtling into a void of darkness.

***

There is a debriefing after the incident.

No casualties. The residents were safe, excluding Francis, of course. You have a lie ready to account for his sudden absence. You say you’d heard him mention something about an emergency visit to a sick relative in a neighboring city as he’d dashed out the front door earlier that day. A phone call to his employer wouldn’t match this story, of course. You weren’t sure what family the man even had. None that would corroborate your fabrication, certainly. You were just hoping that your claim about him needing to leave abruptly very early in the morning without contacting anyone was convincing enough. It’s all you can think of on the spur of the moment.

The director, a severe looking middle aged man, frowns over the lenses of his glasses at you. You keep your hands folded tightly in your lap. Your stitched wound is slowly healing, the ache now a sort of dull throbbing that you’re consciously aware of from time to time. No apparent signs of infection, the surrounding skin clear.

“Your track record, up until now, has been impeccable.” The older man’s voice brings you out of your reverie.

“Yes, sir.” It’s true. For six months you’d performed your role as doorman perfectly. Never failing to detect a single doppelgänger. Protecting the innocent.

“Still, this is not a transgression that can simply be overlooked. The consequences of your misjudgment could have been dire.”

You’d stated that you’d realized the person requesting entrance was really a copy only after the door had been opened, catching an error on the paperwork at the last minute. Intervening, attempting to stall the intruder. Injured and knocked unconscious. You knew nothing more after that.

“It’s suspicious that none of this alleged false documentation has been retrieved at the site. Strange also that you’d been carried all the way to the third floor. We also have no record even remotely matching the description of the doppel you’ve given. How do you account for these discrepancies?”

“The replicant stated they were a new resident moving in to the vacant apartment on the third floor. It seemed plausible that there hadn’t been a chance for them to be featured on the day’s list yet. It’s hardly the first time someone’s name hasn’t been placed as it should be. The subtly incorrect DDD logo was the tip off I unfortunately picked up on too late, sir.” You pause, clearing your throat. There is virtually no moisture left in your mouth and you find it suddenly parchment dry. It’s difficult to speak, your nerves betraying you. “The replicant must have taken the paperwork with them in order to conceal the evidence. And I was knocked out immediately after being cut. I don’t remember anything after that.”

His lips press into a thin line. Your force yourself to maintain eye contact. This was your explanation and you could not falter. “Even so. You failed to follow protocol. And you failed to contact the disposal team.”

“There wasn’t time to dial the phone number. Not even time to sound the alarm. I simply reacted on instinct. I was hoping to…”

“To what? What did you think you would accomplish? You, a mere unarmed woman?” He drapes the last word in contempt. You flush, squirming in your seat at the insult.

The suited man sighs heavily, closing your file folder. “You’re going to be suspended without pay for one week. Then I expect you to return to work. Your temporary replacement is…less than ideal. Let me be clear, though: if anything else happens, you’ll be terminated. No debriefing. No excuses. Understood? This is your final warning.”

You nod, saving your sigh of relief for when you’ve exited the office. The air departs your lungs in a loud rush. You’d done it. You’d actually managed to talk your way out of it.

Your thoughts immediately shift to Francis’ doppelgänger.

He was out there, somewhere. The safest move would be to travel, to just flee the area entirely, but you doubt he’ll leave. He’s still here.

You can feel him.

***

You drive to your house, to the home of your childhood. An inheritance from your great grandparents, passed down through each generation. Outside of the city. Quiet. It’s a relief to see green again. The air smells clearer, too. No waste from factory smokestacks or concentrated exhaust from automobiles. A light scent of grass and summer wildflowers. You roll your window down, inhaling deeply. It’s the best you’ve felt in a while. Since before the incident.

Francis. Your good mood departs just as quickly as it had arrived. How terrible a person you are. Lying to save your own skin. To protect the doppelgänger that had killed your beloved milkman. Putting innocent lives at risk. You had no right to feel anything even resembling happiness or contentment. You should turn the car right back around and return to the office. Confess your sins and receive whatever punishment would be decided for you. Imprisonment, certainly. Perhaps a life sentence to match the life that had been stolen from the third floor resident.

You trudge up the steps of the porch, sinking down onto the topmost stair, your head resting against the post of the railing. There are strips of paint peeling, you notice. You’ll need to sand them down before you apply more stain. Something to occupy you during your week off. Distract you from your own misery.

You close your eyes and listen to the hum of insects. There is another scent in the air now; something damp. The sky’s clouds were white and fluffy looking, but you know those can change in an instant. You think there is a storm approaching.

Perhaps you will wait it out. Just rest here and see what happens, studying your surroundings. There are birds singing in the vacant field that hasn’t known crops for many seasons. You only tended a much smaller one close to the house. Some vegetables. That was all. More often than not the local wildlife took a sample, but you didn’t mind sharing. You should have a look before you head back inside later on, see if there is anything to harvest.

It’s comfortable here. The sun is at the perfect angle. You still have plenty of shade. Warm enough to warrant rolling your shirt sleeves back. Catching sight of the scabbed, sutured line marring your forearm. You trace the mark. You think about the copycat tracing your cheek. That final kiss before he’d knocked you unconscious. It made so little sense to let you live. Had some remnant of Francis’ psyche influenced him somehow? Urging him to spare you?

Your eyes slide closed and you drift off to sleep still mulling this over.

***

In the dream you are standing in the nearby orchard.

You know it is a dream, because in reality these fruit trees are no longer tended. Yet here you are, standing beneath the crooked branches of one peach bearing specimen. The many smooth emerald leaves shield you from the sun.

Francis is beside you.

Or not-Francis. You cannot say which it is. The smile is as you remember. The perpetually tired eyes. He reaches for one of the velvet skinned fruits, plucking it easily and handing it to you.

The texture is exactly as it should be. Not too firm and not too soft. Ripe and ready to take a bite from. You do so, your teeth sinking into the soft yellow flesh. A burst of sweetness on your tongue. The excess juice drips down your chin. You offer the peach to the milkman but he doesn’t accept, instead moving to take a taste of it from your face, first doting on your lips before he laps at the dribbling trail. You clutch his shirt and his kisses become rougher. Pushing you gently to the ground. You drop the fruit and your hands become full of his shirt, his hair, the soft earth beneath you. His mouth plants kisses along your cheeks, your jaw, your neck. Hand dragging down through the floral patterned button front dress you’re wearing.

“Francis.” You reach for his face. It’s wrong. Something in the structure of the nose. So subtle it could easily be mistaken. The teeth suddenly bared in a smile that’s unfriendly. A grin of triumph. It isn’t Francis. You’ve been duped by an imposter.

The skin ripples. His eyes become bloodshot. You struggle to move. Your wrists are pinned at your sides. Sharp teeth nipping at the skin of your throat. A wolf ready to destroy its prey.

The thunder awakens you.

You jolt upright, massaging your stiff neck as you glance around hurriedly. The sky is a mass of gray clouds now, the natural illumination of the heavens notably dimmed. The air is laced with the scent of petrichor. You rise and the first drops of rain fall, pattering on your bare arms, sinking into you hair. Another disgruntled warning rumble, louder this time. The interval between that and the next shortening. You’re about to turn and enter the house when you see a figure standing nearby, on the outskirts of the side yard.

It’s him. The imposter that took over Francis.

The normally pristine, starched uniform is dirt stained, collecting souvenirs from the unpaved road leading to your house. The bowtie around his neck is loosened, draped around the unbuttoned shirt collar, the first several buttons of that work shirt similarly unfastened, revealing the white undershirt beneath. He’d never bothered retrieving the hat, the uncovered thatch of thick chestnut hair now tousled. Your fingers curl around the railing for support as he begins walking towards you with determined strides, closing the distance rapidly. The thunderstorm’s namesake harbinger sounds again. A flash of lightning. The rain is no longer a faint scattering of drops, now falling in an earnest deluge.

You both manage to escape being drenched, finding shelter beneath the porch roof in the knick of time, the imposter halting just in front of you. His chest is rapidly rising and falling, as if that brief exercise he’d just participated in was taxing him. You know that’s not the reason for those panted gasps for air, your own body mimicking that movement.

“Francis,” you say, but the name is drowned out by the growing ire of the storm.

He moves then, pressing you against the weathered clapboards near the living room window that overlooks the front yard. He cups your face between his hands and his lips crush yours. You respond without hesitation, kissing him back. Not giving yourself time to think about what you’re doing; to recall the dream you’d just had where you’d been destroyed by one of his kind.

“How did you find me?” You gasp when you part for air.

This utterance is barely audible, threaded between the next two bouts of thunder, muffled by the sound of the downpour. He slides his fingers against the harsh furrow on your arm. “I could sense where you were. Tracked you…” The words drowned out once again. His mouth moves close to your ear. “What did you say to them? What happened?”

“They bought it, for the most part, I think. The director is suspicious, though. I got suspended for a week.”

Another flash of lightning. It was foolish to remain outside any longer. You invite him in, struggling to fit the key in the lock, your trembling fingers not cooperating. His hand closes over yours, steadying you. The door surrenders, swinging inward.

It’s dark in the living room. You switch on the nearest lamp and toss your keys on the table.

“I’d offer you something to drink, but I don’t know if you still do that, or…” It was unknown what the doppelgängers consumed for nutrition. Perhaps it would be different now that they could occupy a human body and not merely disguise themselves as one.

“I do. But that can wait.”

“Did you know that would happen? You being able to trace my whereabouts when you cut me?”

“No. It’s uncharted territory. Like so much of…this,” he murmurs.

“You need to call Francis’ workplace. Explain to them that there was a family emergency. That’s the excuse I gave for the sudden absence. The DDD has been looking for you. Well, for him,” you correct yourself.

“They’ll expect me to return at some point.”

“Yes.”

“So you’ll let me in. To dwell there. And what of my brethren?”

“I can’t let them in. You know that.” You swallow nervously. “You can’t harm anyone. If I let you inside, you have to promise me you won’t. You got what you wanted. You got to be one of us. There’s no reason to hurt anyone else.”

A large clap of thunder makes you jump. The doppelgänger moves closer to you, tipping his head to one side thoughtfully. “You think I’ll cooperate?”

“We had a deal. I let you escape. I lied to protect you.”

“And I let you live. Both ends of the bargain fulfilled. There is no obligation beyond that.”

“You don’t want to hurt me.”

“Are you quite sure of that?” One arm circles your waist, drawing you against him. His fingers sift through your hair, tugging your head back slightly. “These hungers for the flesh are so distracting. How your kind manages them…” His voice trails off and his lips touch yours.

The light flickers and dies. You’ve lost electricity, now standing in the darkened room cradled by the deceiver.

“<i>The earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep</i>…”

You inhale sharply, thinking of the Bible on Francis’ nightstand. Reading scripture like any good devout soul, learning verses by heart. That memory resurfacing now.

“Francis.” You know it’s no longer him, not in his purest, human essence, but this evolution still holds traces like this that you can’t help but hold dear.

“I’m here, sweetheart.” His hands slide down over the curve of your buttocks as he kisses the corner of your jaw. You guide him towards the nearby couch, watching him sink into the cushions before you climb into his lap, your shoes sliding off and falling to the hardwood floor. You run your fingers through his hair, your mouth ravaging his. It’s the parts of Francis that you love that you’re adoring, you tell yourself. Not the pretender, but the fragments of the man inside he still carries with him. That is what your fingers caress and your mouth cherishes. You unbutton his shirt the rest of the way, then reach for the belt buckle, jerking the leather strap free from the metal, all while your lips and tongue work in a frenzy over his.

The rain and the thunder becomes white noise, a nearly muted sound in the background as you unbutton his pants and pull down the zipper, the metal teeth parting to reveal white briefs. You touch his erection through that thin material, feeling the hard, thick line of it and he hisses, then groans somewhere near your neck.

“Yes, love, that’s what I need…”

You shove your hand beneath the elastic waistband and you make contact with feverish flesh. Another groan from the imposter. You sweep over the head of his cock, realizing he’s circumcised, smoothing leaking precum over the dome before you wrap your fingers around the shaft and begin stroking up and down. He moans into your mouth. It’s not the best angle, your hand a bit squashed awkwardly between your bodies. You slide off his thighs to sit beside him, never breaking contact, still pumping his prick, rolling your fingers over the crest as you reach the top, thumb dragging over the frenulum with each pass. Your tongue dances over his and you feel the arousal leaking from your own sex, soaking your panties.

Another glob of clear fluid oozes from the tip and your mouth waters. You want to taste it. Want to feel him in your mouth.

Your lips abandon his and he frowns, confused until he sees your head bowing over his lap, your body shifting as you engulf his turgid member. Another hissing sound of pleasure as the slightly musky flavor hits your taste buds. You haven’t fully taken him inside yet, only reaching close to halfway, applying suction as you move across that shallow expanse, allowing yourself to become accustomed to the length and girth of him. His fingers touch your head, not applying force, just resting there. You release his cock with a wet popping sound, stroking your saliva over his erection before taking him into your mouth again. You push deeper this time, forcing your lips closer to the base of his cock, to the nest of dark pubic hair. Your throat protests and you gag, the fingers on your head now tightening, pressing, urging you on.

“Sweet girl, that’s it, you can take it. All the way. Fuck.” The curse is something you’d never imagine coming from the milkman’s lips, but you find yourself aroused by it, the depravity of what you’re doing erotic. Your head bobs, dipping lower each time, eliciting an obscene wet squelching sound as his prick collides with your throat. There’s a higher pitch to his sounds of pleasure now. His hips lift to meet you, shoving him in as deep as he can reach while your nostrils flare, searching for a greater air supply.

Your nails dig into this thigh. The loosened belt buckle jingles with each thrust into that moist cavity you’ve provided. The fingers in your hair loosen, allowing you a brief respite. You withdraw and cough. A thick trail of saliva connects your lower lip to his glistening cock. Your fingers massage through the slick and he hums appreciatively. Your lips feel slightly numb, tingling from the stretch. There’s a burning sensation in your abused throat, a soreness when you swallow. But the discomfort is bearable. You want to do this. You want him to feel good.

You suck in a lungful of air and then begin again. You hear the replicant’s breathing becoming shallower, more rapid. He’s getting close. You redouble your efforts, moving fast and deep.

“Sweetheart, you’re going to make me…it’s so fucking good…”

His hips snap up and an acrid spill of semen floods your throat. It catches you by surprise and you choke around the pulsing erection. It’s a copious amount of seed that spills over your retreating tongue. You swallow down the last of the bitter fluid, straightening, dragging the back of your hand across your spit drenched chin.

“That was…you…” The creature is speechless. You can’t help but feel a little pride over that. He captures your lips, mulling over the taste he’s left there. “I want to taste you,” he says, and your pussy throbs. “I want you to cum inside my mouth.”

He moves off the couch, kneeling in front of you. Shoving at your skirt. You hurriedly hook your thumbs over the edge of your panties and drag them down, feeling how wet the crotch is as they drag across your legs. Scooting closer to the edge, spreading yourself open for him.

His face moves forward and his tongue parts your folds. Laving down to gather a sample of your arousal. Humming with approval at the taste of you as he focuses on your clit. A long, slow drag over the sensitive nub. You whimper. His thumbs wedge along either side of your sex, stretching the pink flesh further open. His mouth covers your cunt and he sucks and your thighs try to close, the sensation overwhelming.

“Oh sweetheart, you’re delicious.” Slurping on your clit now. You thread your fingers through his hair, caressing his head as his tongue flicks across the hooded button. He doesn’t need guidance this time. Everything is the way you like it. Dividing attention between your clitoris and the entrance of your pussy. Pushing that muscle inside, fucking you with his tongue, alternating with lapping at your bundle of nerve endings. You wish it wasn’t quite so dark. You want to see his eyes. You know he’s looking at you even if he can’t discern much in the dim gray light filtering in through the windows. Watching your reaction even as he feels it in his mouth. Hears the pleading, the needy gasps and moans, the whining that begins the closer you get to coming apart in his mouth.

He moans, too, and the vibrations of that sound add another layer to your pleasure. A finger makes its way inside you. Violated by a second soon after, thrusting while he sucks your clit. You climax, panting his name over and over, your fingers frantic in his hair, your pelvis quaking as your grind yourself against him.

Eventually your movements lessen. He eases back and your quivering legs draw closed. He rejoins you on the couch, his mouth on yours, gifting you a taste of yourself.

Then you sit quietly, listening to the diminishing storm outside. The rain drums on the roof and taps along the gutters with a soft metallic sound. Your face is tucked into the doppel’s shoulder, one hand resting on his chest, feeling his heartbeat, his arm curled around your shoulders.

You shouldn’t enjoy this. Any of this. You should be afraid, disgusted. Instead you feel oddly calm. Safe in his arms, even though you certainly aren’t. These alien beings were masters of deception and manipulation. You know better. It was foolish, what you were doing. Dangerous—for you, for everyone else.

But you’re convinced more than ever that some part of Francis is still buried within. The goodness of him negating the evil of this imposter.

“I’ll make the call in the morning.” The first words spoken in a long time. Your head lifts. “And I’ll move in to the apartments.”

“Just you. And you won’t harm anyone.”

“You ask for too much.”

“I’m giving up everything for you. Risking my job, my life, the lives of the people I’ve sworn to protect. My heart. My soul,” you finish with a whisper. “I don’t think you understand how many things I’m sacrificing.”

“I’m not human. It’s impossible for me to. There are no words for them in our language because they simply don’t exist.”

“But you want to be us. You should understand…”

“I will make the call and I will move in. Beyond that I am not promising you anything. Except…I do not want you harmed.” He reaches for your arm, tracing over the healing wound he’d inflicted. “I will try to prevent that, at least.”

A small concession, perhaps, but an important one nonetheless. If he was willing to spare you, maybe you could convince him to spare others.

Teach him the value of a human life while taming the monster within that wears the face of the man you love.

#francis mosses #francis mosses x reader #francis mosses x you #milkman #milkman x reader #milkman x you #thats not my neighbor

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imfinereallyy · 1 year

Text

“Dad is going to be very angry,” El says with wide eyes taking in the scene before them.

“You think Hop will kill him?” Steve says as he leans against the doorway, eating a Twizzler.

El looks at Steve momentarily, sticking her hand out for some candy. Steve hands her one without hesitation. El rips a piece off before speaking. “Oh yes. He might ask you to help hide the body.”

Steve nods solemnly, “I’ll do what needs to be done. Mikes’s my least favorite child anyway.”

“Hey!” Mike yells, gaining the duo's attention. It brings them back to the scene they walked in on. Mike and Will, with the door closed (no three inches in sight) on top of each other, making out.

Steve doesn't think he’ll ever get that image out of his brain.

“Chill, Wheeler, I'm joking,” Steve says pointedly before turning to El and mouthing no, I'm not.

El giggles, and Steve can't help but feel like he won a prize at the sound.

“I'm sorry, El.” Will blushes with shame, like he is betraying his sister somehow.

El just shrugs, “I do not care. But Dad might. He hates Mike.”

Steve snorts, “That's the understatement of the century. I don't think Hop has ever hated someone’s partner like he has Mike. Honestly, I was surprised he liked Eddie. I mean like is a strong word. But he tolerates him.”

Will pipes up, “I think he does mostly because he knows you'll move out, and he only just got you to agree to stay here.”

Steve shrugs, “I’ll take what I can get. At least he doesn't walk on me having sex.”

“We weren't having sex!” Mike practically screams. Hands up exasperated. “And don't talk about you and Eddie; it's gross.”

Will blushes deeply with head in his hands, “Oh, God.” El pats him on the shoulder in sympathy.

“Also, this wouldn't have happened if you weren't an idiot and just knocked!” Mike stomps. Jesus, this kid is 15 acting 6.

“I was the one who walked in, Mike. I wanted to know if Will wanted to watch a movie.” El says coldly, getting defensive of her brother.

Mike clams up, Steve can't help but feel smug.

“Who’s having sex?!?” A distinct Hopper-like voice echoes through the house.

Will and Mike share a panicked look while Steve and El take more Twizzlers from the bag.

“Oh no. Mike! What are we going to do?”

Mike sputters, “He doesn't have to know it was us! And we weren't having sex!”

Will looks at him like Mike is the biggest moron he's ever met. Steve loves the kid (despite early protest) but has to agree. “Oh gee Mike, I wonder who he will think it was about. Steve? Who is dating a man who isn't here and keep in mind, it's Steve. Who is our brother, and five years older than us? And in a relationship? And let's not forget..is Steve?!”

“This is fair.” Steve agrees. If anyone but Baby Byers had attempted to say that, Steve would have been pissed. But it's Will, so it's coming from a good place.

“Also! Also! The other person here is El! Who is my sister! Not to mention your ex—”

“—well it could have been—”

“Micheal Steven Wheeler, if the next words out of your mouth are it could have been you and El, I will never be kissing you again.” Will uses a deathly tone. Steve isn't convinced he didn't get from El.

“Your middle name is Steven?” Steve fills giddy.

“Shut up Steve!”

Will pinches his brows, “And you idiot, if it were you and El, you would still he toast.”

Steve whistles, “Shit, Will. Next time I need to win an argument against Eddie. I'm coming to you.”

“How long does it take for dad to get upstairs?” El interrupts.

All of them look down the hall. “Huh, maybe we are in the clear,” Mike whispers.

“I said who is having sex?!?” Hopper comes thundering up the stairs.

“I think this is what Max calls a jinx.” El looks at Mike unphased.

Steve can't help but feel a little bad for Will. He looks panicked around the room, probably looking for a hiding place. Steve knows that it isn't that same fear Will once had of Lenny, Hop wouldn't hurt them ever, but he can't help but feel a little protective of him. Steve knows all too well how the fears of biological fathers can sneak up on you, even if you know you're safe. “Don’t worry, Will. I'll make sure Hop takes it easy.”

Will relaxes, “Thanks Steve.”

“What about me?” Mike asks, eyes wide.

El shares a look with Steve. Spending as much time as they have lately has allowed them to talk without speaking most of the time. It freaks everyone but Robin out (she gets it). Seconds go by before they both nod in agreement.

Steve and El both wip their heads towards Mike, and Steve says, “You were grossed out by my relationship and called me stupid. Suffer.”

Mike's outcry is in synch with Hop breaking through screaming, “There better be three inches!”

#steddie #byler #this is just about Steve and el bonding #steve teaching El the best way to beat mean girls is to be one #eleven hopper #steve Harrington #stranger things #Eddie munson #mike wheeler #will byers #Steve Harrington and El hopper have a sibling relationship #found family #my writing #ficlet #mean girl steve harrington #fluff #fanfiction #jim hopper

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warriorofthought · 25 days

Text

I did love you, always!

Summary: Bucky broke up with you but the Winter Soldier still loves you.

Word count: 3103

Warnings: sad, sentimental Feelings

Winter Soldier x Reader

You and Bucky broke up recently, even though you always supported him, even through his Winter soldier phase. It didn't even take two weeks before he got together with Sharon. that made you angry, hurt, betrayed.

You were at Bucky’s house because you had to get your stuff, and you both began to argue again because of Sharon.

"At least she treats me like I'm somebody!" he snapped.

"Yeah, I do too but would she love you if you were the winter soldier?!" You yell back.

"Nobody loved me when I was the winter soldier!”

"I do, i did" you mumble and turn around to put clothes from the shelf in a box.

He stops and just stares at you. You can't tell if he heard it. You look at him.

You stare at each other for a few seconds and you wonder whether it's even something to say now.

You wait for him to reply, maybe you shouldn't have said anything, now that you realize you might have spoken out of impulse.

He walks up to you.

"What did you say?”

"you have heard me!" You say a bit annoyed.

"I love you, even when you change back into the Winter soldier. The winter soldier is not a complete monster, he is also loveable." You sigh.

"But that doesn't matter anymore" you shake your head disappointed and hurt.

He stares at you and seems to be thinking.

His grip tightens on his fists. He's angry, frustrated, upset.

Then he sighs.

"You don't know what you're saying and you're just saying this because you're upset."

He seems to be thinking again, then he continues.

"If i was the winter soldier, you would hate me too.”

"I would not, i have seen you many times as the winter soldier and i didn't hate you, i love you it doesn't matter which one you are. The Winter soldier loves me, the same as you do. He wouldn't kill me." You say and finish up packing your clothes.

"How do you know?" he asks. He's curious now, maybe he's starting to reconsider.

"You don't know that. You say you love me no matter what, but I don't believe you. You're just saying it because you're angry. Because you can't stand me being with Sharon.”

"Yeah, I can't stand you being with Sharon." You snap.

"But I'm the only one that can change you back into Bucky when you go back into Winter Soldier, Sharon can't protect you from that, the Winter soldier, you. He will kill her."

Before Bucky can say anything Sharon steps into the apartment, his new love.

You glare at Sharon, who's got her hands all over Bucky.

"She can protect herself, she's a trained SHIELD agent." Bucky is getting defensive now.

"And I can protect her if she needs me to. She understands this. She's not afraid. We're in love, and she trusts me."

Bucky's really falling for Sharon's charms now.

"Bucky, you don't need to pretend you love someone else, just because you are scared." You say gentle. " We both can manage that, we can work on that, together."

He stays silent for a bit.

"I'm not pretending anything. With her, it's..." you can hear the joy in his voice.

"You don't know what it's like when I'm with her, to feel her touch, to hear her smile... It's different with her, I actually want to be with her.”

You grab your last items and then walk to the front door. " I hope you won't regret that" you say and leave.

He lets you leave, knowing how stubborn you can be when you're upset. But he will regret it. He already does.

He sits down on the couch in silence. He should go after you, he shouldn't have let you leave like this.

But then Sharon comes and sits right next to him, putting her arms around his neck, clinging to him.

Timeskip (Three weeks later, you get a call from Sam, telling you Bucky changed back into the Winter soldier and that he is currently destroying the SHIELD base. Sams wants you to come quickly because nobody comes through to the Winter soldier or Bucky. You sigh but still go to the SHIELD base to see what is happening, you even see Sharon there but the Winter Soldier doesn't seem to like her. You stop beside Sam who looks happy to see you here.)

Sam smiles at you, relieved to see you. He knows you're one of the only people who Bucky would actually care to listen to.

The Winter Soldier is destroying the SHIELD base, tearing things apart and shouting.

Sharon's nearby, but Bucky seems to have forgotten about her.

"I thought he wouldn't get near Hydra again, that all of you didn't let him go destroying the hydra base as a mission. How wrong did go your last mission?" you say softly to sam.

Sam shrug his shoulders .

"He was on a mission to destroy a hydra base, the one right here, but apparently something went wrong."

You glance at the Winter Soldier. He's still breaking things and shouting. Sam sighs.

"Sharon's trying to talk to him, so far he's not interested..."

"No wonder, Winter doesn't like her" you grumble with a sigh.

Sam sights too.

"He's not usually this bad when he changes back" he explains.

"This time it's different because of... You know..."

"Because of our break up?" You ask gentle.

"Is he not happy with being with Sharon?"

Sam nods. "He's not happy, and he's not handling his emotions well. And the fact that he's still with Sharon... He's confused, he's trying to deny his feelings for you and it's... just making his mind a mess."

You sigh " I will handle that."

Then you step into the room where Sharon and the Winter Soldier are. Sharon looks like a mess.

The Winter Soldier doesn't even blink when you walk in. He's got a look of determination on his face, and his eyes are fixed on Sharon who is trying to talk to him, but Bucky's not interested.

Sharon's hair is all out of place, she looks scared and desperate.

"Winter, do you really need to be so mean to her?" You ask gently and walk closer.

The Winter Soldier stares at you, his eyes filled with rage and frustration.

"Maybe I do. Maybe I want to be mean to her."

Sharon looks at you, and at first it's relief, but she slowly understands that you're not going to defend her.

"Is it because Bucky wants to be with her and you don't?"

The Winter Soldier looks like he suddenly realizes something.

You notice that he's slightly distracted from the idea of hurting Sharon and actually looking at you.

He raises his voice.

"Bucky wants to be with Sharon, but I hate her..."

You slowly nod. But as you want to answer the jet sways a bit and you all stumble a little to the side as the jet tilts to the side.

You don't see how a few metal pipes threaten to fall on you and before that happens, the Winter Soldier is with you and protects you from the falling pipes with his metal arm.

You're shocked by his sudden change of behavior, and also by his sudden reaction. He protects you, making sure you're safe. His reaction is much quicker than yours, or anyone else's and it's clear that all his attention is now on you.

"Winter" you say lovely, your soft eyes meet his. He doesn't change back into Bucky but you see the love that the Winter Soldier has for you.

His eyes meet yours and you feel like he's looking into your soul. The love and affection in his eyes...

He's still standing in front of you, protecting you.

You can feel his warmth and his closeness.

Sharon is looking at you two, her look of desperation gone now, replaced by something else...

"Winter, thank you." You whisper softly.

He nods slightly, clearly understanding that you're thanking him.

Sharon's starting to look angry and jealous now. She's clearly noticed that he paid no attention to her, and was completely focused on you.

This time Sharon starts to mock you.

She points at you and laughs.

"He's just pretending to care about you. He doesn't love you, he doesn't even like you. He's with me, not with you!" it pains you to hear her say those things, to see the contempt in her eyes and hear the jealousy in her voice.

"Yeah, Bucky is in a relationship with you. But that doesn't mean that the Winter Soldier also wants that" you say calm.

Then you all stumble again as the jet swings in the other direction. Winter immediately stabilizes your stand.

You keep talking to him without even reacting to the movement or the danger. You know Winter will always have your back.

Sharon rolls her eyes and laughs.

"Do you really think he'll choose you over me? He needs someone in his life and you're not even there for him. He wants a real relationship, a real woman, not someone like you!"

“I don't care about your opinion, the only thing that is important is that Winter and even Bucky feels comfortable.”

She stares down at the ground, her jaw clenched and her face flushed with anger.

You wonder if she's realizing that her relationship with him isn't as secure as she thought…

Sharon laughs again.

"You're so stupid if you actually believe that. Just look at him! He's in love with me, not with you."

You notice her tone change from mocking to one filled with anger and jealousy.

The jet wobbles even more and Winter has to tighten his grip on you to keep both of you standing. The Winter Soldier keeps protecting you, making sure you don't fall and get hurt.

Before you can react Sharon points her gun at you, your eyes weiden slightly surprised that she would do that infront of everyone else. You even can hear Sam grasp surprised.

The Winter Soldier notices too and immediately raises his arm to block the bullet with his metal arm.

His eyes flare when he realizes someone's pointing a gun at you and he won't let that happen.

Sharon is surprised that the bullet doesn't hit you and glares at Bucky who is protecting you.

Sharon yells at you. Then Winter grabs you, you don't even manage to do something else and flee with you out of the big jet towards a helicopter.

The Winter Soldier moves quickly and efficiently, and before anyone can react he's managed to carry you towards a helicopter.

You're stunned at his speed and agility, but you also notice how much he's paying attention to you.

By now Sharon must've realized that she lost.

The Winter Soldier is in charge. Not Bucky.

You can feel his warmth in your arms. His strength as he carries you to the helicopter and then lowers you in. He still stays protecting you, keeping you safe.

Sharon is behind the helicopter, still staring at you with jealousy and contempt but she no longer seems like the same person.

The Winter Soldier seems almost loving towards you, his anger turned into affection.

"Winter?, are you telling me, where we are going?" You ask and let him buckle up the seatbelt around your body and watch him start the helicopter.

The Winter Soldier is focused on starting the helicopter, and he doesn't respond for a bit. He looks at you and you notice his expression is different. The rage is gone.

He's thinking, and you also realize that he's actually considering what he's going to say for once.

Then he finally speaks.

"We're going home.”

"home?" You mumble and watch him drive the helicopter away from SHIELD.

"Yes." his voice is even more gentle now but there is still the roughness in it, his expression has softened.

He focuses on flying the helicopter.

"Home, and then we'll talk.”

Timeskip (A few hours later. He lands the helicopter on a farm that is his.)

The Winter Soldier lands the helicopter next to his Farmhouse.

This is definitely his safe place, you can feel the peace and the comfort.

He turns around to look at you.

"We need to talk.” You nod and sit down on the couch. The Winter Soldier also sits down in front of you, close enough that it feels like he wants to have physical contact with you.

He is still in control, not Bucky.

So far everything is different from before, you can feel how much he's calmed down, how much he likes being this close to you.

"I wanted to apologize…”

"for that what Bucky did? You can't control your other side, Winter. Bucky and you are both in this body, I don't know why Bucky suddenly stopped loving me but It's not your fault, Winter.”

He smiles slightly. Then he moves closer so that his leg is touching yours. His eyes are intense but soft, as if he's really paying attention to every little word you say.

You have to resist the urge to move a little bit closer.

Then he replies.

"I know I can't control the other side, but I did hurt you.. and I'm sorry…”

You smile softly and cup the face of the Winter Soldier softly.

You slightly wish he would stay being the Winter Soldier, loving you further. You missed him so much, you don't care how rough his side that hydra had caused is because he always is so soft to you, only to you. Bucky himself will go back to Sharon. But this wish is unethical and mean of you to think. You sigh.

"I love you, i haven't stopped doing that.”

His expression softens even more as you cup his face.

He feels your hand against his cheek, your fingers gently moving along his jawline.

He leans his head just slightly to the side, leaning a little bit more into your touch.

His hand is moving, reaching out and he's just about to caress your hand, but then he stops, hesitating.

He bites his lip, his gaze lingering on your hand.

He is still the winter soldier, but he's definitely more in love with you than Bucky ever was…

"My Winter, my love. I have missed you so much." You say lovely and put your forehead against his, breathing his scent in. Your hand intertwined with his flesh hand.

The winter soldier doesn't reply, but his arm moves slightly, his fingers wrapping around your hand and holding it tightly.

You are both very close and you can almost feel him wanting to draw you closer, pull you to him and bury his face into your neck, but he stops, resisting the urge.

His eyes are deep and passionate, he really missed you and his love for you is shining through them. He's breathing a little bit harder, and you can feel his heartbeat increasing.

"Tell me, do you know that i love you Winter, i love the Winter soldier, i even love you as Bucky. Especially, i love you, your heart, your soul. I don't care how the other sees you, I see you as something special.”

He squeezes your hand, as if you didn't even need to tell him, as if he always knew that you loved him.

Your words have reassured him though, and his heart beats a little slower, his breathing becomes more relaxed.

He wants to say it back to you, to tell you how much he loves you.

But he's still struggling with his identity. He's still deciding which is the stronger side.

"I love you too..." he whispers.

Your heart warms immediately, having missed to hear this words out of his mouth.

And suddenly, he pulls you closer. He leans his head against your shoulder and wraps his arms around you, his grip tight and loving.

He smells like the farm, like open air and fresh grass.

He's holding you, so close and protecting you.

He's the winter soldier, and he doesn't want to let you go.

“I hated what Bucky did to you, he feared things, but that doesn't give him the right to push you away, my lovely flower. I hated it that he tried to suppress me, hated it that he stayed with this woman. I don't like her. Sharon is not you, she doesn't have this glimmer in her eyes as you have when you look at me.” his voice is rough but soft at the same time and it sends a shiver down your spine.

You hug him back and softly pet his back.

“Don't worry, we have enough time to figure this out.” You say lovely and lean your forehead against his.

He hugs you even tighter, burying his face in your neck, and breathing in your scent.

He has finally decided. The winter soldier is in control. Not Bucky. The moment he's been wishing for has finally come.

He's not struggling with his identity anymore. He knows who he is.

His hand touches your face, gentle, caressing.

"I'm not letting you go. I don't want to share you with anyone anymore.”

His voice is filled with affection as he looks at you.

"I've missed you. I've missed being with you. I've missed feeling you..."

He leans his head against you again, and your breath is intermixed.

Sharon definitely cannot compare to you in his eyes, she was always just a replacement for you. He doesn't even want to think about her right now.

His arms are still around you, and your body is pressing against his. It feels so natural that you almost want to stay like this forever…

"I know she's not you." his voice is even rougher now, almost feral.

He presses his face into your neck, his lips just below your ear.

"She's nothing compared to you... I hate her."

He holds you tighter and you can feel the pure hatred and possessiveness coming out of his every pore.

This is the Winter Soldier's way to tell you how much you mean to him.

"I don't want to turn back into Bucky. I want to stay the Winter Soldier with you.”

“Winter, we will figure it out soon. Alright?”

You feel him nod against you, then he moves his body on the sofa and quickly pulls you into his embrace.

You know someday you have to let the Winter Soldier change back into Bucky, but for now you can enjoy your love back in your arms, healing your heart.

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier x you #winter soldier protecting #the winter soldier #winter solider x y/n #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier #winter soldier fanfiction #winter soldier fluff #happiness

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star1ight0 · 10 days

Text

Katsuki Bakugou x Reader "Warm Hands". Period comfort!

I died today exams are coming up and my body decided that I must suffer, endometriosis is no joke. PERIOD COMFORT.

Katsuki was never one for comfort, partly because he never really got it himself so giving it was like standing in cold water. The first time you and Katsuki were together during your period you kept to yourself not wanting to bother him with your mood swings.

He quickly caught on blowing it off as you having an off week. The second time around he was a little more observant noticing how you got more upset over simple work and how you seemed to always have a stomach ache in class.

One Ill fated day you ran out of pads quickly running to Momo giving her a knowing look, she handed you her bag as you ran off. That was only the start of your shitty day. The pills you took to kill your cramps had worn off so now you're suffering in class. Things took a turn for the worse after lunch when whatever the cafeteria food seemed to kill your stomach.

Back in class holding your stomach you left for the bathroom holding your stomach as your lunch betrayed you. After a few minutes of suffering on the bathroom floor, apparently Aizawa felt the need to send Momo to check on you. She helped you up and to recovery girl, not that she could do much but let you rest.

After class Katsuki made his way to the nurses office, seeing you curled in a ball with a bottle of pain killers next to you "The hell happened to you?" He spoke in a rather mean tone but you could still feel the sincerity of his words "Cramps" you said sitting up wrapping your hands around his waist. After a few minutes you grab his hand and get up.

He walks you back to your dorm letting you lean most of your body weight on him most the walk there. Not having any food in your system you felt your body weaken using what little energy you had to lay down. Katsuki watches you curl in a ball a soft yet concerning look still ligers. "I'll make you some soup. Don't die while I'm gone" he says gruffly placing a kiss on your head

When he returns he has a tray with soup, some warm tea and chocolate? You look up at him a bit confused "Why the chocolate?" You say still slightly dazed. "Im not a complete moron.. plus I ran into Momo and she told me" he says the second half is almost incoherent.

You look up at him with a smile holding his rather warm hands to your cold ones. The blissful moment is rudely interrupted by the feeling of a cramp in your lower stomach. Clenching your stomach holding back the tears that had been compiled caused by the many cramps and stress of the day.

A slight groan manages to escape your lips as you feel the side if you bed sink in next to you. Not saying anything you feel your boyfriend pull you towards him. "Where does it hurt" he says avoiding your slightly confused gaze you place his hands on your lower stomach leaning into his touch.

One main up side of Katsuki's quirk was his body radiated more heat then the average person, more so in his hands. "Thank you" you say slowly dozing off.

When you awake you feel your boyfriend's hands still wrapped around you. You walk to the bathroom taking care of yourself. When you come back Katsuki is still asleep so you crawl back on the bed laying in his lap.

The day continues with one similar to the one before.

Sorry this one was a little weird and shorter than I wanted. I'm tired, sick and sleepy but wanted to write this.

Requests are open!

#bakugou katsuki #mha x reader comfort #period comfort #x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugou x reader #fanfiction #sick comfort #gender neutral reader #bnha comfort #mha bakugou #mha comfort #momo yaoyorozu #aizawa shouta #Spotify

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gracieeegleegal · 2 months

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Omg please do an angsty imagine where we are the daughter of some god (maybe Zeus or hades) and find out about Luke’s betrayal and he tries to recruit us but it only ends in arguments

Betrayals embrace - Luke Castellan

pov - Luke Castellan was the lightning thief all along and you the clueless girlfriend who never knew better.

Pairing : Luke Castellan !femoc x Zeus daughter

In the heart of Camp Half-Blood, under the watchful eyes of the gods, a storm brewed within the soul of y/n, daughter of Zeus. Her relationship with Luke Castellan, once filled with laughter and affection, now teetered on the edge of betrayal and heartbreak.

Y/n stood, tears in her eyes as she stared into the eyes of her lover, eyes that now held the truth of his actions and the haunting revelation that had shattered her world—Luke's treacherous plan to free Kronos and destroy the very gods they were supposed to honor and serve.

More tears pricked at her eyes as she recalled the countless moments they shared, the promises of a future together, now tainted by lies and deceit. She clenched her fists, feeling the crackle of electricity surging through her veins, a reminder of her divine heritage and the weight of responsibility that came with it.

She had trusted him, loved him dearly and all she got in return was the inexorable betrayal that had shattered her heart.

"Y/n," he whispered, his voice smooth like honey,a certain nervousness hanged in his tone. In the 10 minutes they had been in the forest, y/n stayed silent through it all. Not knowing what to say or do after Luke admitted to his actions.

That he tried to drag Percy into the pits of Tartarus. That he had lied about it all.

"Luke," she replied, her tone laced with bitterness and hurt.

Luke stepped forward, his eyes searching hers for any sign of wavering resolve. "I know this is difficult for you to understand, but we can change the world. We can free ourselves from the tyranny of the gods, create a new order where demigods are no longer pawns in their games. We can be free, you can kill your father after all the pain he’s caused."

Y/n shook her head, a humorless laugh escaping her lips. "And what of the innocent lives that will be lost in the wake of your ambition? Have you no conscience, Luke? Do you realize that if you go forward with this, you’ll lose your family here. You’ll lose me.”

His expression hardened, a flicker of anger betraying his calm facade. "You were always too soft, y/n. Too blinded by your loyalty to those who have treated you as nothing more than a pawn in their own schemes. Why do you defend him? After he killed your sister! After he killed Thalia. He could’ve stopped it.”

He reached out to her, his touch a cruel mockery of the affection they once shared. "Y/N, please understand. This is our chance to make things right, to rid ourselves of the gods who have only brought us pain and suffering."

But even as he spoke, the truth of his betrayal cut deeper than any blade. Y/N recoiled from his touch, her eyes filled with tears she refused to shed.

She backed up at his words, the sting of truth laced with venom. Memories of Zeus's indifference and neglect flooded her mind, a painful reminder of the fractured relationship she shared with her divine father. She was transported back in time when she had arrived at camp for the first time. A reminder of the sister she lost, the sister who sacrificed herself for her sisters.

A painful reminder that no matter what, the gods will never care enough to save their children. If they did, things would be a lot different.

But even in the face of betrayal, y/n couldn't bring herself to abandon her friends at Camp Half-Blood, the only family she had ever known.

"I may be the daughter of Zeus, but I am also a daughter of Camp Half-Blood," she declared, her voice trembling with emotion. "I will never betray them, Luke. I understand you better than anyone, I really do. But I can’t do that to them. I can’t, and you know that. "

Luke looked shattered, he would have thought that the girl would side with him. After all she was the one who understood him the most, understood his reason. “I didn’t wanna have to do this, y/n, I’m sorry. You have given me no choice.”

“We always have a choice.” Without warning, Luke lunged forward, his movements fueled by desperation and rage. Their clash was fierce and unrelenting, the crackle of lightning mingling with the clash of celestial bronze. Each blow exchanged was a testament to the shattered bonds of trust and love that once bound them together.

Luke’s attack got harder and harder, as their swords smacked together in the night. The fireworks covering the sound of the lovers fighting each other.

“Luke! You don’t have to do this!” Y/n struggled against his attacks. She didn’t want to hurt him, but Luke was so blinded by rage that he couldn’t seem to care that he was hurting her.

“Luke!” This time the screaming had come from another voice. Percy and Annabeth were running towards the scene.

In a moment of distraction when y/n turns her gaze towards the two teenagers, she feels pain in her abdomen. She glanced down, Luke’s sword had stabbed her in her stomach. She gasped softly, tears forming in her eyes as she held onto the sword that was still pierced in her flesh.

“Y/N!” Percy and annabeth screamed her name but her focus was stuck on the man that had betrayed her

Red was gushing from her wounds into her hands that were now touching Luke’s. The boys eyes widened. What had he done? The girl dropped to the ground, blood running everywhere. Her shirt was now tainted red, as well as her hands and her lovers hand.

In the end, it was y/n who lay battered and broken at his feet, her resolve unbroken even as her body screamed in protest. Through tear-stained eyes, she watched as Luke cradled her frame. Regret and sadness reflected in his eyes.

“Y/N..” he whispers softly, he gripped her body tighter. Not wanting to let go of the woman he loved. “I’m sorry. Im so sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

Percy and Annabeth after standing still watching the scene with tears in their eyes finally approached the couple. Swords in their hands.

Luke glanced at the couple, then back to the bleeding girl. “I’m sorry.”

With a heavy heart, he turned away, leaving her broken and bleeding in his wake. Percy and Annabeth running to her aid.

As darkness threatened to claim her, y/n whispered her final words into the cold embrace of the night. "I love you, Luke."

---

When she awoke, it was to the sterile scent of antiseptic and the gentle touch of familiar hands. Percy Jackson and Annabeth stood at her bedside, their expression a mask of concern and sorrow.

"You're going to be okay, Y/N," Percy reassured her, his voice a soothing balm against the ache in her heart.

But the pain of loss was a wound that ran deep, one that no amount of time or healing could ever hope to mend. With a broken sob, Y/N buried her face in the boys shoulder, mourning the loss of the love she had once held so dear.

And as the tears fell like rain, she couldn't help but wonder if somewhere, amidst the echoes of betrayal, there was still a glimmer of the boy she had loved, lost, and ultimately, forgiven.

#luke castellan x reader #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson x reader #luke castellan #charlie bushnell #luke castellan x you #pjo series #pjo tv show #pjo

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