theflamecrystal

[theflamecrystal]

Hello! I'm back with another chapter of my Feyd-Rautha/Reader arranged marriage series.

AO3 link here for full fic: And I Don't Want Your Heart - Chapter 5 - ooihcnoiwlerh - Dune (2021) [Archive of Our Own]

Side post that has some of my headcanons for how I interpret Feyd-Rautha's own relationship to his sexuality: Hello, Friend - So I've been working on a Feyd-Rautha/Reader... (tumblr.com)

This fic and this chapter are 18+ up only. Tags, content warning, and full chapter below the cut

Tags/CW list: rape/noncon; graphic depictions of violence; dubious consent; arranged marriage; forced pregnancy; nature versus nurture; implied/referenced child abuse; implied/referenced sexual assault; implied/referenced incest; first time; rough sex; oral sex; vaginal sex; vaginal fingering; blood kink; pain kink; sadomasochism; period sex; problematic smut; inappropriate misuse of BDSM; slow burn emotionally but the exact opposite of a slow burn phyiscally

CHAPTER FOUR: A BLOODY GASH

You're fertile.  You’ve never had any reason to believe otherwise.  This union is contingent on giving him children–at least one son, and as many attempts as necessary to get there ( and you desperately hope that you’ll only need that first one.  You don’t want to raise a daughter in this place, amongst these people .)

So you’re horrified when you wake up the following morning to blood smeared between your legs, staining your chemise that rode up to your hips when you were sleeping, and leaving a smear on the sheets below when you move.

No.  No.  You pull up the hem of your chemise and stare at your inner thighs as if just looking will change the outcome.  Feyd-Rautha came inside of you four times in two days for nothing .  He’ll be furious.  He’ll question your very biology.  He’ll have you examined as thoroughly and cruelly as possible.

You scramble, trying to cover yourself, wondering what you can even do next when Idrisa comes in with fresh water and coffee.

To her credit, she doesn't drop the tray when her eye line goes directly to your bleeding crotch for the few seconds it’s still visible.

“I knew my time for it was coming up, I just didn't think it would,” you say to yourself as much as her and come to meet her gaze.

She glances back down out of respect, but the awkward tension hangs between the two of you for a moment.

“Do you…” you start, embarrassment flushing your face and neck, “do you have anything for it?”  You have no idea how menstrual care even works on Geidi Prime.  You’d just assumed that it wouldn’t be an issue for another ten months.

She composes herself again immediately.  “Why yes, of course, Na-Baroness.  I apologize for my negligence.”  Before you can tell her there's nothing to apologize for, she adds, “I'll help you get cleaned up first.”

“That’s alright, I can do it,” you tell her as you wonder for a moment who she served before that she’d assume you want her to clean between your legs when you’re perfectly capable of doing it yourself.

She inclines her head further.  “Thank you, Na-Baroness.  I’ll be back in just a moment.”  

As soon as she’s out the door you’re up and walking briskly to the bathroom. 

You’ll need to have the sheets changed.

It’s only been two days, you think, washing between your legs.  This doesn’t mean anything bad .  When he asks for you, you can just explain the situation and try again in a few days.  Until then…until then…   For a moment you draw a blank, before remembering a conversation you had a few years ago with a slightly older friend when you asked her if husbands still desired their wives when their wives were bleeding.

“ They honestly just want something warm, soft, and wet to bury themselves in, ” she’d told you matter-of-factly.  “ So most men just use their wife’s mouths .”

“ What do you mean? ” you’d asked, fairly certain you had an idea what she was talking about but still more willing to briefly embarrass yourself by asking than remain ignorant.

“ You know what goes on between a man’s legs, right? ” she’d asked in turn.

“ Of course ,” you’d said, a little offended that she’d think you so naive. 

“ When you’re bleeding and he still wants you to please him, put your mouth there instead, ” she’d told you.  “ Like he’s burying himself inside your mouth instead of your canal.  You can’t make babies that way, of course, but they often don’t care about that .   You can’t really make babies during your monthly courses anyway. ”

You wonder how she reacted when she found out who you’d be marrying.  You never got the chance to ask and assume, like many young women and their parents, that she was relieved that she wasn’t the one hand-picked for him. 

You also haven’t done that to him yet, nor any other man, for that matter, and you’re sure your lack of skill will show.  How are you meant to take the entire thing in your mouth when you can barely fit it where it’s meant to go?  What are you supposed to do with your teeth?  It also just seems somehow more daunting and personal than just having inside of you in the traditional manner.  

He’ll be aggressive with it, like he is in everything else. 

You can’t stop thinking about it as you brush your teeth and hair and try to ignore the discomfort in your lower belly before you hear a click and the door to your quarters opening.

Idrisa’s back with a basket made of some kind of black synthetic material; it’s covered to protect its contents from passing view.  You could kiss her for that, you think, and she starts unpacking.

She pulls out what look like thick handkerchiefs, going to your bathroom to stack them neatly on the countertop.  She also hands you a canister that you open to find a handful of circular tablets.

“They’re not as strong as what I left for your wedding night,” she says, “and they won’t put you to sleep, but they should suffice if you need them.”

You’d chalked up your cramps to nerves but now that you have your answer the symptoms couldn’t have been more obvious.  “Thank you, I think I will,” you tell her as you think about how you’ll likely be expected to join your new family, if one could call them that, for breakfast again.  The thought makes you want to crawl back under the covers.

“Can you also please tell Feyd-Rautha that I apologize for missing breakfast but that I'm feeling unwell this morning and wouldn't want to be poor company in my condition?” you ask.

Idrisa hesitates, nervous.  You realize that she's thinking, You know that your husband finds me far more disposable than he finds you, right?  He could easily kill and replace me and no one would care.  You also realize that she can’t and won’t say no to you.  But just that look reminds you that as frightening as this fortress is to you, it’s much worse for her.  You haven’t seen Feyd-Rautha kill outside of the arena yet, but you also barely know him; killing people who displease him over minor inconveniences, especially if they’re low-born and low-ranking, could be a common occurrence for him.  The Harkonnens didn’t earn their reputation for nothing.

“Unless you think they won't notice if I’m even there,” you add, thinking.  The Baron couldn't care less if he never has a conversation with you again, and outside of the marriage bed, Feyd-Rautha doesn't appear to have any real plans for you.  “I could just…stay here and if Feyd-Rautha has any questions he can ask them.”

Idrisa’s shoulders had been locked and tense but appear to relax just a little at your words.  “I can make a plate for you and bring it back here,” she says, already knowing your preference.  Given Geidi Prime’s incredible wealth and lack of natural resources other than fuels and metals there are imported fruits that you’d never had before coming here that you’re certain you’ll never get sick of.

“Sounds perfect, thank you,” you tell her, and take advantage of the new medication when she leaves.

When she returns with another tray for you, she’s accompanied by two other girls holding a fresh arrangement of sheets; the hems and necklines of their garb are cut a little different from hers and they look younger, perhaps the same age as your little sister.  You wonder if the difference in the way they’re dressed suggests rank?  They keep their heads down and don’t acknowledge you other than a silent curtsy before stripping your old sheets and setting down a new spread.  You look at them for a moment, wondering if it’s at the Baron’s insistence that no staff ever look a Harkonnen royal in the eye or if this rule’s been going on for generations when Idrisa snaps you out of your thoughts.

“I have a tea prepared for you as well, Na-Baroness,” she says, gesturing towards the tray that she’s set on your end-table and removing the cloche covering your plate.  “It’s not medicine strictly speaking but it has soothing properties.”

You turn and look at her.  She doesn’t look much older than you, but the same can be said of most of the female slaves.  Are they banished to where they won’t be easily seen when they reach a certain age?  What’s the life expectancy?  It feels more than a little insensitive to ask right now, so you just let them work as you take a seat at your end-table and take a sip of your tea.

After breakfast is over and you’ve found a comfortable position sitting up in bed, propped up by the pillows and headboards, you read a bit more on the Harkonnen lineage.  The more you read, the more you understand why Father always insisted that Geidi Prime is no place for a woman.  Women in high places, you find, have in history been assassinated more often than the men, or kidnapped to use as collateral and tortured.  You wonder if that’s why you saw so few at the wedding and reception, why they seemed so hidden out of view even while accompanying their high-ranking husbands.

You’re reasonably certain that your new husband’s concerned enough with his image as heir to the Harkonnen throne not to tarnish the alliance your marriage has created, that even if he doesn’t really know you and may never love you–you’re reasonably certain that he’s incapable of feeling such an emotion–he’ll still make sure to protect what he sees as his.  His uncle will likely be another story.  

The door opens unannounced and you look up, expecting Idrisa only to find Feyd-Rautha letting himself in without a word and closing the door behind him.  He doesn’t speak at first, but everything in his demeanor tells you that he did in fact notice your absence and wants an explanation.

You compose yourself.  There’s no need to panic.  “Good afternoon, husband.  To what do I owe the pleasure?” you ask, tone as light and cool as the weather would be on your home planet right now. 

He leans against the door as he folds his arms across his chest and looks you over.  “I missed you at breakfast,” he says.

“Yes, my apologies.  I’m not feeling well,” you tell him.  

He clearly doesn’t believe you.  You don’t seem feverish , he seems to think with his unimpressed gaze.  You seem fine .  “Still getting adjusted to the atmosphere on Geidi Prime?” he asks, and for a foolish moment you hope that he’s giving you an excuse.  Maybe he thinks you’re avoiding him because of last night, and you’re content to let him think that.

“Yes, husband,” you tell him.  

“That’s a shame,” he says, crossing over to your bed and sitting at the edge of it.  “It occurred to me last night that whoever taught you close-range maneuvers didn’t do their job right.  You should’ve been able to evade me.”

You wrinkle your brow and don’t have it in you to hide your insulted glare; your House’s military is considered a force to be reckoned with and a slight against your training is a slight against your House and your father himself.  “Did you want me to evade you?” you ask.

He seems amused by your sudden sharpness, and you realize that he’d wanted to hit a nerve.  He knew what he was implying and got the precise reaction he’d been hoping for.  “That’s not the point, wife.  You said yourself that you were out of practice and as soon as you’re feeling better I intend to rectify that.  Your cute little boot-dagger won’t serve you any good if you can’t correctly use it.”  

He places his hand on your leg, trailing it along your thigh and stopping just shy of your apex, his thumb brushing against it through the fabric of your skirt.  You give a sharp inhale that makes him smile.  You start to close your legs but his hand, now cupping your inner thigh, holds one open enough for him to continue to fondle as he pleases.

His hand stays there for a moment, stays over the light material of your skirt even as you're sure the soft flesh of your inner thigh heats his palm, as flushed as you feel under his touch.  He leans in, inhales as he leans over you and sniffs your hair.  It’s not even the first time he’s done it.  You wonder if he finds your hair to be a sort of forbidden fruit; something he can’t say he likes because to do so would disrespect Harkonnen hairlessness, but still something he finds fascinating or even enviable.  You’re not sure yet whether his lack of it is down to genetics or grooming but you assume the former, if it affects everyone including those who wouldn’t have such prime access to constant shaving.

But then he fully brings his hand between your legs, fingertips rubbing up against you and you flinch.  

Now?  Is he going to try and fuck me right here and now?   You shift, trying to hide what you’re sure is a look of panic on your face, trying to scramble for an excuse as Feyd-Rautha rubs a whimper out of you.

In the moments he does and you freeze, he watches your face a moment longer and then something shifts in his eyes, and he pulls back.

“I’ll call on you soon,” he says.  There’s something satisfied, almost smug in his tone.  He doesn’t wait for a response from you before he gets up and leaves, and you wonder what caused his departure.

Idrisa comes in a minute later with more tea for you.  “The Na-Baron seems mollified,” she says.  “He’s taken the news well.”

“I didn’t tell him.”

You catch Idrisa furrowing her brow-line, incredulous even with her head bowed before she can smooth over her expression into one of polite indifference.

“He doesn’t need to know yet,” you tell her.  “He said he’d call on me later.”

“My apologies for speaking boldly, Na-Baroness,” she says, “but the Na-Baron will still take you to bed tonight or whenever he decides is convenient.  Harkonnen men expect their wives to always be available to them, no matter how they’re feeling.”

You suppose you already knew this.  It certainly doesn’t help the gnawing feeling in your stomach even as the medicine Idrisa gave you has soothed the cramps for now.  

“It appears I can hold him off until after dinner, at least,” you finally say.  There’s that; you also appreciate having another meal without the Baron’s presence.

You wish you had someone you could talk to about this in which it wouldn’t feel weird to ask.  You look over at Idrisa.  She’s the only friend you’ve managed to make so far and while you don’t see that changing anytime soon, you haven’t forgotten that she keeps you company out of obligation.  You can’t be certain as to whether or not she actually likes you, or if she only tolerates you due to her heightened position within the Harkonnen Fortress as your personal attendant.  Still, she’s certainly better than no one to ask.  She takes your old mug and heads for the door.

“Idrisa,” you start.  She turns.  “You’ve…have you been with men before?”

She inclines her head in a polite nod.  “When it’s required of me,” she says.

Your second question dies in your mouth.  Oh.  Right .  Yet again you’re disgusted but can’t say you’re all that surprised.

And instead of asking for advice you’re struck by another thought.  “Has the Na-Baron ever…?” you start and she immediately shakes her head.

“Never, Na-Baroness,” she assures you.  “He has never been known to satiate himself that way with slaves.”

Are you being honest or telling me what I want to hear? you almost ask but spare her the indignity.  You’re reasonably certain that if Feyd-Rautha had taken advantage of her, he’d have gloated to you about it.  “Thank you,” you tell her.  You don’t want to know how men on Geidi Prime have abused her mouth.  “I was just curious.”

“Not at all, Na-Baroness,” she says.

As the hours tick by you wish you'd just told Feyd-Rautha your situation and gotten whatever awkward ensuing conversation over with.

In the evening Idrisa brings you dinner, more tea, and a glass of wine.  “The Na-Baron has given you two hours before expecting you in his bedchambers.”

You sigh.  “Thank you, Idrisa,” you tell her, not quite willing to add, you were right .  You eat, you have your tea, you bathe and clean your hair.  And in the remaining time that you have before you need to leave, you sip your wine. You’d be foolish to assume that it will truly settle your nerves, but it tastes nice. 

“I guess it’s time,” you say finally, looking at the timepiece on your nightstand.  “How angry do you think he’ll be?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know, Na-Baroness,” Idrisa says as she opens the door to lead you to your husband.  “He’s never been married nor been instructed to sire an heir before.”

When you get to his bedroom he’s already standing in the middle of it, wearing only black pants with a relaxed fit that suggests leisure, maybe sleep.  And here you hadn’t taken him as the kind of man to own pajamas.

He looks over your shoulder at Idrisa, who seems just as surprised to see him as you are even as she immediately lowers her head in deference.

“Dismissed,” he tells her, and she curtsies and scurries out of the room, closing the door behind her, leaving the two of you alone and rather more dressed than you’ve been in this room.

You stand, awkwardly, playing with the sash to your robe as the two of you look at each other in silence.  Or rather, he stares at you and you look down, knowing what you’d rehearsed and still needing to force the words out.

“My apologies, husband, but it’s my time of month,” you finally manage.

“I know,” he says.  “I could smell it on you.  I could feel your rag in between your legs.”

Was that what he was doing?  You look up at his face and find nothing that you can really parse and pause, unsure what you could say to that, before you move on.

“I know it’s not ideal, but we can try again in a few days, and in the meantime,” you try to sound like you’re not as nervous as you are, fully aware that seduction was never something you learned, “I know that there are…other ways to satisfy you.”  A few days and we can resume trying to secure your firstborn .  

He gives a small smirk at the second part of your statement but comments only on the first.  “A few days?” he repeats, as if you’ve just said either the funniest or dumbest thing he’s heard all week.  “What makes you think I care to wait a few days?”

You’re not sure you heard him right.  “The blood,” you say slowly.  “I can’t control it.”

“You think a Harkonnen would be scared of a little blood?” he says.

You’re not sure what to say to that.  In hindsight, you’re not sure why you’d assumed that this man of all men would be too squeamish to fuck a bleeding woman.

“Strip down,” he says, after the seconds of silence that follow.  He sounds so casual as he says it, as if he just told you to have a seat.  You hesitate, still unsure if he’s being serious.

“Did you not understand me?” he prompts when seconds tick by and you haven’t moved.

“I do, husband,” say.  “But still, I have to warn you that it’ll make a mess.”

“Y/N,” he says, his tone somehow light.  There’s an element of danger to it.  “You’re not the one who’ll have to clean up afterwards.”

Nor you , you think.  “So you want me in this state.”  You don’t phrase it as a question but he can hear the confusion in your voice.

The smirk never quite left his face but returns in full as he crosses the few steps over to you that leaves you close enough that you can feel his breath.  He takes your wrist and presses your hand to his groin–it’s rapidly filling out.

“What do you think?” he says.

You gasp, almost giving an incredulous laugh as you glance between his face and back down to his groin.  Harkonnen men are built differently, you suppose.  

You pull away enough to unravel your robe and step out of your slippers.  He doesn’t object to your garments being left on his floor instead of neatly tucked on his dresser, so you keep going, pulling your chemise over your shoulders, pulling down your undergarment and letting it slide down your legs, until you’re bared entirely for him.

He looks down at the blood that gathered in the kerchief lining the gusset of your undergarment as it hits the floor and you step out of it, and then he looks back at you.

“Hold your arms out like this, wrists together,” he says, extending his own to demonstrate.

He still doesn’t seem angry, his tone suggesting patience that you know he doesn’t have, but you hesitate before mimicking him.

“Very nice,” he says, and you bristle at his condescension as he half-circles you before heading for his armoire.  You turn around to watch him open it, and your jaw drops when you see what’s inside.

It’s lined with whips, rope, chains, knives, scalpels, collars, and other items you’ve never seen before but if this is in his bedroom then it must serve one particular purpose, either on himself whoever has the misfortune of being with him when he wants to use any of these devices.  

He glances over his shoulder and looks if anything delighted by your stunned reaction, the growing sense of dread.  “I didn’t say you could drop your arms,” he says, and turns back to pick out a length of black rope.

You suppose you ought to be grateful that he didn’t pick out any chains.

You watch as he loops an intricate tie binding your wrists.  He does it with such practiced ease he looks directly into your eyes as he does it.  You manage to hold his gaze in defiance even as your heart hammers in your chest and you’re scared of what’s going to happen next.  You know that, like a true Harkonnen, he likes your fear, but it hasn’t occurred to either of you yet that he also appreciates your fire.

“Get on all fours on the bed, pet,” he says, tone light and playful as much as his gravely timbre can make it.

You try to keep your eyes on him as much as possible, making sure he’s never fully out of your sightline as you get on the bed, squirming but managing to maneuver the position he wants while your wrists are bound.  He knows that you don’t trust him, and if anything that seems to elevate his excitement.  

Good girl, he seems to be thinking.  He looks you over, turning and sauntering so he can take a moment to gaze first at your naked profile, then at your backside.

You have to keep reminding yourself that he won’t do anything that will risk you being able to give him children as he turns away and pads over to his armoire.  For a moment you’re not sure if he’s trying to decide what he’d like to use, or if he’s purposefully biding his time to make you more nervous.  His fingertips seem to dance over the whips, then the chains.  He briefly touches the handle to one of his knives.

Not the scalpel.  Please not the scalpel.

You see it–corded leather.  A black whip with multiple knotted tails.  He takes it down from his display but leaves the armoire doors open–undoubtedly to keep reminding you of what else he could be and very likely will be doing to you in the future.

You think about the Bene Gesserit Litany and try to repeat it in your head as you consider the tool? the weapon? clutched in his fist.  At first glance the whip looks like the cat-of-nine-tails your brother-in-law seems so fond of.  However, when you shut your eyes, take a breath, and think of the words– fear is the mind-killer –you realize when you open your eyes again that what Feyd-Rautha’s holding is a lot smaller than a proper cat-of-nine-tails and the tails thicker.  You have no doubt that this is going to hurt, but it doesn’t look like it will rip you apart.

“What, what is this?  A punishment for bleeding? ” you finally ask, unable to handle the silence anymore and because that’s the only explanation you can imagine.

And yet Feyd-Rautha looks amused that you’d suggest it.  “It’s because I want to use it on you,” he says, as if any further explanation would be silly.  “Ever since I first saw you, I wondered what that pretty ass of yours would look like after I’d taken this to it.”  He holds up the device for emphasis.  “I wondered what noises you’d make.  I wanted to know what you’d look like with your wrists bound, naked and helpless in my bed.  What you’d look like squirming and bleeding.

“ Yesterday was a punishment,” he adds.  “This is just fun.”

For you, perhaps, you think.  It’s no matter; you’ll just have to prove that you can take whatever he dishes out.  You just have to decide whether it’s better or worse that he’s not doing this out of anger. 

“Are you scared, pet?” he asks.

“ No, ” you lie in the most adamant and dignified tone you can muster, and once again he acts like what you’ve said is cute.  He clicks his tongue.

“You mustn’t lie to me in bed, pet,” he says, approaching the bed again, his free hand skimming over your ribcage, your side, your hip, as he finally stands beside the bed, and ever-so-slowly draws the corded whip up and down the backs of your thighs.  The tassels brush gently against your skin and it feels perverse, the anticipation he’s building within you.  On his second pass you inhale sharply, shutting your eyes, hips twitching away from the device, and Feyd-Rautha chuckles at that.

“Relax,” he says.

Fuck you.  You know I can’t.  Just do it and get it over with , you want to tell him with your sharp exhale, and one second later he draws his hand back and brings the whip down.

You cry out, rocking forward, your entire body clenching up as much from shock as pain.  Nothing could really prepare you for this; his hand from the first night had been easier, more personal.  The individual cords spread out like a fractal tree, like cracks in a block of ice fanning out. 

The second time is less sharp, more of a thud that reverberates through your body, the impact reverberating in your pulse.  Tears prick up at the corners of your eyes and for a moment you can’t breathe.  It would figure that this man has used this device often enough that he knows how to inflict different flavors of pain depending on whether he’s putting the movement in his wrist or his forearm.  You clench your fists, waiting for the next lash, and then the next.

Your nerves are on fire.  You can barely think, barely focus on anything but the exquisite pain on impact, the sharp sting of the air against your impacted flesh, the sweet moments you adjust, finding your breath, before he comes down again.  You don’t scream, not after the first blow, but the tears forming at the corners of your eyes start trickling down your face and then drop directly onto your forearms the covers below you when you bow your head.  

You don’t know how long he keeps going, don’t keep count.  The pain starts to dull but the intensity becomes overwhelming as he compounds on every lash.  Your ears are ringing.  You taste iron at the back of your throat.  The worst part is that you find, to your horror, your nipples feel stiff.  You start to feel wet.

It has to be a fear response.  This isn’t enjoyable .  It’s intense, it’s painful, and you can’t help but feel shame lance through you that your body would react this way.

Please.  I can’t take any more , you want to tell him, but opt instead to whimper through your clenched teeth.

At that moment the whip comes down and it sends you toppling forward, finally collapsing.  The covers are soft against your tear-stained cheek.  You shut your eyes, panting, waiting for him to haul you back up and continue the process.

But nothing happens.  You don’t try to look behind you and hope that he’s done.  You just take a rattling breath and listen for the sound of the whip and its tendrils slicing through air, and it doesn’t come.  

“You lasted longer than I thought you would,” Feyd-Rautha says, the first time he’s spoken in minutes, and you open your eyes and  turn your head to see him twist the coils of his whip and head over to the armoire.

“Come on,” he says over his shoulder.  “Back into position, pet.”  

You grit your teeth and force yourself back up on your hands and elbows.  “Good,” he adds softly, and it’s embarrassing how one single word of praise makes you flush, sends a pleasant tingle down your spine.  This shouldn’t have the effect on you that it does–maybe it’s because now that it’s over, you feel lighter, almost dazed.  All of your muscles had tightened into coils, but now you feel pliant to the point that your limbs feel rubbery.  You’re exhausted.  You’re hurt.  You don’t know what else he has on the agenda for you tonight but you just hope it doesn’t involve another one of his whips or ropes.

He sets the device back in the armoire and turns to face you.  He looks at your flushed, tear-stained face and smiles, mouth-closed before approaching the bed, his cock hard in his pants, and even though part of you wants nothing more than to melt into the bed and to get some relief for your stinging backside, you know he’s still going to chase his own pleasure.

‘He’ll want your mouth,’ you remember.  

You won’t wait for him to force it or grind your face into his privates.  If that’s what he wants, you’ll get there first, and so you drop your head and fumble as you reach with bound wrists for the fly of his pants.

You’re focused on what’s directly in your eyeline, so you don’t see his brief look of surprise, but you hear his voice, sounding pleased.  “Let me help you with that, pet,” he says, pulling away long enough to pull his pants down, stepping out of them.

It’s even more daunting when it’s this close to your face, but he steps back in, cradling your jaw, and you lean in and lick the tip of him.

For a few seconds that’s all you know to do, to lick around him, feeling the ridges and veins under your tongue.  It’s all the verification he could possibly need that you’ve never done this before, and that spurs him on, cradling your head in one large hand as the other guides himself past your lips and into your mouth.

It confirms what you suspected; he’s too big to take all the way and thankfully, doesn’t try to make you.  

Not yet, a part of you thinks.  You try to breathe, try not to get your teeth on him, try to relax and close your eyes as he controls the pace.  It’s easy enough at first; far from the rutting of the past couple of nights.  It doesn’t occur to you that, by his standards anyway, he’s being gentle with you.  Doesn’t occur to you to wonder why.  You just try to keep up as your backside and the backs of your thighs sting like hell and you hope Idrisa will have some sort of lotion for it when you get back to your quarters.

Feyd-Rautha appears to have yet another reason to like your hair, it seems, as he threads his fingers through it, guiding you onto him in slowly greater increments until he’s suddenly over halfway in and you freeze, nearly gagging, forgetting how to breathe.

He holds you in place for a moment, just long enough for your eyes to widen as you glance up at him and his heavy-lidded eyes and chest heaving with arousal.  He waits until you’re about to struggle and tear away from him before he relinquishes your hair and steps away, pulling out.  You take a deep breath, gulping the air down.  

“Stay right there,” he says, and settles in behind you, stroking your hindquarters like you’re a horse that he’s trying to calm down.  Will he put a saddle on you next?  You exhale hard through your nose, mouth pursing, waiting for what he’ll do next.  Will he mark up the stinging raw skin he’s already flogged with his hand?

Fine.  Fuck you again.  I can take whatever you’ve got.  I can handle it , you want to tell him out of spite.   You sense him shift, dipping his head, and despite your steeled nerves can’t help but gasp and feel something flutter in your core when you feel his breath against your lower back.

What exactly is he–? is all you have time to think before he dives in.

You jolt and wriggle in shock as he licks over one of your growing welts; you can’t quite tell but wouldn’t be surprised if he broke skin.  However, it’s how his tongue glides over your backside before shifting his weight to your folds that sends waves of shock, revulsion, and excitement as you cry out, stunned.

He’s licking my wounds .

You’re trying to wrap your head around how salacious it is that his lips and tongue alternate between licking the impacted skin on your buttocks and the backs of your thighs and dipping his tongue inside of you.  He has your hips firmly in place, which serves him well given that you’re torn between recoiling away from the heat of his mouth and wanting to press back against it.  You can feel him smirk at the sounds of your shocked moans.

He pulls away long enough to turn you on your back and you wince at the impact before you see him slide down along the bed and continue the onslaught.  You can hardly believe it as he grabs your still-stinging buttocks and buries his face against your bleeding pussy.

This is disgusting , part of you thinks.  Another part of you can hardly understand what’s happening.  In all your years you’ve never met a man who didn’t recoil hearing about monthly courses.  You’ve never heard of anyone wanting to taste a…a bloody gash .

Your wrists are still bound, and you grip onto the pillows above your head as he lifts your thighs to rest over his shoulders and dives back in, tongue pressing inside of you.  

It feels incredible.   You’d prefer it if it didn’t.  More than anything else, you don’t want to be enjoying this, wish the continuous whines and moans he’s drawing out of you were insincere, but he can feel as well as you do that you mean every sound.  You, Lady Y/N of the powerful and dignified house of Y/H, are getting your bloody pussy licked by the ruthless barbarian Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen and Great Mother and every forgotten old god, you’re enjoying every visceral and shocking moment of it.

He knows it, too, the smug bastard.  He probably feels even more powerful like this, on his belly and with his face between your legs, than he did when he was tanning your hide.

He raises one hand from your hip to your breast, giving one of your nipples a cruel pinch, smirking against your slit as you whimper in protest, and continues.  His nose presses and rubs against your bud in the onslaught and you finally admit to yourself that any last vestiges of resistance you might have had has caved when you squirm, rocking your hips upwards and desperately wishing that your wrists were free so you could press his face closer into you.

He keeps up his pace, bringing you as close to the edge as possible without reaching it until finally, mercifully, he shifts his mouth to your bud, his fingers replacing his tongue inside of you.  Your unrestrained cries fill the room, spurring him on, and then the force of it hits you as he brings you over the precipice for the first time.  It feels like it comes in shockwaves, especially as he keeps going through it all.

You’re still pulsing and squirming against his tongue when he stops, raising himself up and leaning over you.  Inky, sticky blood coats the lower part of his face, from his chin to his nostrils, and you’re a little surprised at how the sight doesn’t alarm you as much as it probably should, especially since that’s your blood covering his face.

There are far worse ways he could be smeared with your blood .  You gasp, still, at the striking color against the pallor of his face, reminded of seeing him in the arena. 

He presses damp, open-mouthed kisses against your stomach, your ribcage, your breasts and collarbone, as if to mark you with it.  Finally he sits up, bringing your legs over his as he guides himself into you with his bloodied fingers.

He stays upright as he pulls you onto him, and you watch his face as he looks down where you’re joined, his groan like a rumble in his chest as he sees himself pumping in and out of your bleeding pussy.  He won’t last long, you realize.  He’s been holding himself back from fucking you into the mattress since he visited you in your chambers hours ago. 

He curves in then, bracing one hand above your head to grip your still-bound wrists as his other hand grabs your hip to keep you stable.  You realize what he’s about to do a split second before it can happen.

He’s going to kiss you with that bloody mouth .

You tamp down on the revulsion of it and the coppery smell, again refusing to let him shock you or give you anything you can’t take and move in first, leaning up and capturing his mouth in a kiss.  

He groans into it, hips pumping, tongue invading your mouth as he speeds up, going hard, hips snapping into you.  He’s relentless; this would be agonizing if he hadn’t worked you open and pliant with his lips and tongue and even still, it veers on the edge of being overwhelming.  Your whimpers and cries only encourage him.

And then he finally comes, burying his face in the crux of your neck and biting down, not hard enough to draw blood but enough that it will leave a bruise later.

For a moment the two of you stay that way, then he releases your wrists and sinks down onto you, dropping his forehead onto your shoulder as he pulls out and takes a moment to catch his breath.  After a moment he raises himself back up on his forearms, pauses, and takes in the sight of your face and your lips stained red before reaching for your wrists again and untying the rope; once freed you notice that your skin’s been chafed rosy but still fully intact.  

He gets up, and you watch the lines of his legs, the slope and curve of his buttocks, the taper from his shoulders to his waist as he gets up and sets the rope back in the armoire before finally closing it shut.

Guess he’s done for the night .

But is he going to send me back right away? you wonder, turning to your side to watch the way he moves.  It takes some effort.  You feel as depleted as a rung-out damp rag.

He approaches the bed and wordlessly holds out his hand, and once you take it guides you to your feet and leads you into this bathroom.

Like his bedroom, it’s larger than yours.

He doesn’t let you wash your blood off your body; he wants it to remain on you until it dries and peels off on its own.  Instead he wipes his face, rinses and cleans out his mouth, and gives you a cup of water to do the same.  He wipes off in between his legs and then yours, quiet and strangely peaceful.  He takes another cloth and wets it, and then grabs a small bottle out of a drawer.  “Turn around, hands on the counter,” he says.

Fairly certain you know what he’s about to do, you acquiesce.  “Did you draw blood?” you ask over your shoulder.

He shakes his head.  “Not this time,” he says.  “Wasn’t trying to.”  And then he surprises you by getting down on one knee.

You give a small gasp.  It just seems…lewd?  Subservient?  And tired and sore as you are, you can’t help the twinge you feel in between your legs as he gingerly presses the cloth against your reddened skin.  You grip the countertop tighter as he opens the bottle of what you can only assume is ointment because after a moment his fingertips are smeared in a cool balm that offers such sweet relief you drop your head, trying to hold yourself together when your legs feel like they’re about to give out and you can feel Feyd-Rautha’s breath so close to the sensitive skin of your backside.

He seems to be applying the ointment to the worst of the welts, starting in silence and then adding, “You’re sensitive, but you have a decent pain tolerance.  I like that.”

You huff a laugh.  I bet you say that to all the girls, you almost tell him, and immediately think that that’s probably not true.  If it weren’t for the fact that he’s tending to your wounds you’d assume that he’d never do anything like this.  Something tells you that this small act of kindness isn’t to be taken lightly or for granted.

Once he seems satisfied with his work he gets back up, sneaking a glance of your face in the mirror.

Is he thinking about how much you’ve already changed since you’ve met? Since you’ve married?  When you see your reflection you don’t see the same person you did a week ago.  Of course he didn’t know you a week ago.  He barely knows you now.  Still, when your eyes meet in the mirror, he looks at you with something almost close to affection before he leaves the bathroom.

“Stay the night,” he says when you walk over to your abandoned clothes so you can gather them up, get dressed, and return to your chambers.

You look over at him.

“I’ll want to sample you again first thing in the morning,” he explains, “so it’s more convenient if you remain here.”

You huff, torn between incredulity and amusement.  “Taking advantage of the situation while we still can, are we?” you ask.

“I doubt it’ll come again for another ten months,” he says, and then strides, still naked, for the door.  He opens it, and a few words of battle-language later he shuts again.  He sees your confused expression and explains, “Your slave was still waiting for you.  I told her to go.”  He tilts his head in the direction of his bed, and after a moment you follow.  It appears that he doesn’t even want you to pull your undergarment back on.

As soon as you’re under the covers with him he tugs down your end of it to get one last look at your marked chest.  And after he’s looked his fill, he reaches for a switch that turns off the lights and even as the two of you can’t quite see each other, you still find yourselves on your sides facing one another.

“I wake up earlier than you’re probably used to and I’m a light sleeper.  Your slave assured me that you don’t snore,” he says.

“Not that I’m aware of,” you tell him.

“Once you stop bleeding I’m going to start having you train in my Halls,” he adds.  “I was serious earlier.”

“But for the next few days I’m chained to this bed.”

“That could be arranged,” he says.  “In any case you weren’t complaining when I was licking your cunt earlier.”

He won’t see your flush, but he must know that it’s there.  “So… is it safe to assume that none of this is…” you try to find the right words, “typical?  For a man, I mean.” And in quite possibly the biggest understatement you’ve ever made, “You’re not a normal man.”

You’ve adjusted enough to the dark to see his smirk.  “I think you've known that since before we met, Y/N,” he says.  And after a moment he lays his head, settling in and getting comfortable.  He doesn’t say another word to you that night, just closes his eyes and within a couple of minutes his breath slows.

It’s hard to imagine being able to let your guard down enough with this man to sleep beside him, even if he falls asleep first.  Like sleeping beside a wild animal.  

Sleep does come to you, though, after long minutes watching him sleep, waiting for him to wake up and scare you, lunge for you, and it doesn’t happen.

You turn to your other side, facing away from him then, and the only signal you get that he’s not entirely asleep is that as you start to drift off yourself, he reaches one arm to pull you in closer to him.

Tag list: @wo-ming-bai @blazeflays @richardslady121

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[theflamecrystal]

it hurts

Too Late.

synopsis: they loved you when it was too late. 

pairings: sully family x daughter/sister!reader, neteyam x twin!reader, neytiri x daughter! Reader, jake x daughter!reader

warnings: mentions of death, attempted suicide, suicidal thoughts(?), swearing, familial issues. 

word count: 3.6k

a/n: would yall believe me if i said i wrote this while listening to pussy talk by city girls LMFAOOOOO p.s. Happy valentines day (THE RED TEXT IS "FESTIVE" im trynna get into the valentines day spirit :D). I wish i could've given yall part two of illicit love instead of this but i'm not done with it </3. ALMOST THO!!! (gif creds: @world-of-pandora)

(p.s. part two is out now!!)

it was never supposed to end like this. jake's mouth felt bitter. his whole body shook as he let out the most heart-stopping scream when his eyes landed on his eldest daughter. you, neteyam's twin, lay lifeless in his arms. your father cried because he never got to tell you he was proud of you, or that he loved you, or that you didn't need to compare to your brother to still be considered his baby girl. 

it wasn't always like this, though. 

you and neteyam were always happy and playing around together when you were younger. still, as you two grew older, neteyam took on olo'eyktan training and became his father's perfect warrior. where does that leave you? mo'at had chosen kiri to pursue tsahik training because of her apparent connection to eywa. so where does that leave you? lo'ak took on the role of the troublemaker, and tuk, of course, is just the baby of the family. so where does that leave you?

you're lo'ak's babysitter. making sure the boy doesn't get into trouble, but with your lack of training due to your father training your brother more than you, you weren't really the best babysitter. honestly, it was more lo'ak protecting than you protecting him. he kept you from losing balance while in high places, saved you when you fell into the rapids and flew you home when you forgot your way as if you had not lived in this forest your whole life. 

you felt like a burden on your family. 

nothing you ever did was right. 

you went hunting? cool, but you didn't bring back enough for the whole family, so now neteyam and lo'ak have to go out and find more food for everyone else. 

you bead a necklace for your friend? great, but you messed up the pattern she asked for, so she brought it to kiri so she could remake it.

tuk wanted to go play with you? of course! but now she has a sprained ankle from falling into the river while you were looking at flowers a few feet away.

and every time, somehow, some way, your family always managed to say something that felt like a blade stabbed through your heart.

"next time, y/n, just leave the hunting to neteyam and i. at least we know the right amount to bring back." it was lo'ak before he and your twin had to go hunting for more food for dinner a few weeks ago.

"you know, sister, your jewelry hasn't been the same recently. i've had sooo many of your friends coming back to me saying you messed up the pattern they asked for. just try and pay more attention when you're beading." kiri said as you walked into your home. she was re-beading the necklace you gave to your best friend yesterday. 

the one she told you was perfect and that she loved it.

"how could you leave your sister unattended like that y/n she could've been killed?! why can't you be like neteyam? you’re twins, for crying out loud, y/n. do you not care for your sister's well-being?" your father scolded you outside your grandmother's hut. you could hear her cries inside the tent, along with your mother's gentle words of comfort, as she tried to calm her youngest daughter down. 

you were being compared to your twin for the millionth time in your life, and as used to this as you should be, it still hurt just as bad as the first time your father had said it. 

"she only sprained her ankle. it was an accident sempu–" you tried to defend yourself, but you were cut off. 

"NO. it is, sir. do you understand me?" jake yelled at you. in your 18 years, your father had never raised his voice at you, let alone for you calling him 'sempu.' he used to love it when you called him because you were his ite and he was your sempu. but right now, to him, you were just someone who had hurt his child and nothing more than that. you hang your head, eyes falling to the floor in front of you as you didn't want your father to see you cry. 

"sorry, sir." was all you said before walking away. you don't know where you walked, but you found yourself at the abandoned shack. you knew this area was forbidden, so when you realized where you were, you immediately crouched. you were just gonna walk back because your father would kill you if he found out you were over here, but then you heard voices. you looked through the bush to see a group of 3 or 4 avatars. you knew you couldn't escape now, so you pressed on the collar of your neck.

"sempu– sorry. sir, i need help, i wasn't paying attention to where i was walking, and i can hear avatars speaking english and–" your father cut you off.

"where are you?" he, your mother, and your two brothers were patrolling around your land's territories when they heard you through their earpieces. 

you let out a heavy sigh, praying to eywa that he wouldn't chew your ass up for being here, before pressing the button again and saying, 

"i'm at the abandoned shac–AHH! OWW, LET GO, YOU ASSHOLE!!" you couldn't finish as one of the avatars found your hiding spot, grabbing you by your queue.

thankfully your family had heard enough. your twin telling his father he knew a shortcut, they all flew as fast as they could to you. honestly, this was their last straw. everyone was fed up with you constantly making things hard for everyone.

your mother, though, was worried. you were caught by those skydemons all by yourself. who knew what they would do to you?

as you waited for your family, you were roughly held by your queue as they poked and prodded at you like they had never seen a native before. 

"let me see your hands." the man with a buzzcut spoke. 

"why don't you look at my feet instead?" you said. they all gave you a confused look until you kicked quaritch right in his face. you don't know how, but it caused the avatar behind you to loosen his grip, so you tried to make a break for it.

unluckily for you, the female avatar grabbed your arm, pulling you back into her form. she gripped you by your neck, unaware that she had pressed the button on your communicator. you hissed at her. the man you had kicked was only laughing as he wiped the blood dripping from his nose. "she must be one of his. she's defiant. grab her hands, let me see." he said

the avatar behind you grabbed your hands, holding them both out. 

"hm… four fingers. maybe she's not one of his." were they gonna let you go? wishful thinking.

"fine. she may not be one of his but if one of their people go missing they're bound to come for her. keep her." his words made your heart sank. were they gonna take you? away from everything? your home? your family? if you could even call it that. 

but then you thought about it. you really can't call it that. you don't remember the last happy memory you had with someone, anyone, in your family. it clicked to you that it had been about 10 minutes since you had radioed your father, and he wasn't here yet. were they even coming for you? you knew it was a stupid question. they weren't coming for you. why would they when this was the easiest way to get rid of the weak link of the family? it's not like your blood would be on their hands, and their life would be way better without you.

"they're not gonna come for me. i have no family. you killed my family in the last war, you dickhead." you lied to the man you had kicked earlier. 

hearing you say this confused your family. what were you talking about?

"dammit you're an orphan? i didn't know the na'vi had any of those. then what do we do with her. she's useless. nobody will notice she's gone." the woman behind you asked her superior. 

"hmm.. i have a better idea. kill her. use her as a warning to the sullys. this is what we're capable of now. it'll be a threat. give us jake sully and nobody else will die. but this one… this one is our lab rat. we're gonna make you bleed out nice and slow little one." he said as he grabbed his pistol off his waist, pressing it below your jaw. the nickname made you internally gag, but you held your ground. 

these people had no real idea how tired you really were. you were exhausted. you were ready for life with eywa. you wanted your deity to hold you close, keep you warm, and protect you from the harsh real world. the world that your parents didn't adequately prepare you for. the world that you were ready to leave. 

"kill me," you said as you grabbed quaritch's wrist and moved his gun from under your jaw to right above your heart. "and make it quick. nobody will come for me anyways," you said in a monotone voice.

the avatars all looked at you in awe. they had never once seen a na'vi so willing to give up their life. the natives they had all met were vicious, hissing and armed, always ready to kill. but you. you were the opposite.

you were fed up and ready to die. but not for your people. for your own inner peace. 

"no," quaritch said, putting his gun down. that shocked everyone. like he shocked his soldiers and your family, who had been listening the whole time. they were trying to get to you as fast as possible.

hearing how you really felt was a wake-up call for your family. and when they heard bullets moving within the chamber of quaritch's pistol, they all flew their ikrans as fast as possible, weaving through trees and around mountains, trying to get to you.

you looked at the man like he had just betrayed you. 

"DO IT, YOU COWARD! FUCKING DO IT! NOBODY WILL COME FOR ME!! THEY DON'T CARE!! THEY DON'T FUCKING CARE!!" you don't know what came over you, but you tried to wrestle quaritch's pistol out of his hands. your family was only 2 clicks away and could hear you struggling. everyone landed at the same time. the sullys, excluding tuk and kiri, who had stayed with mo'at, caught quaritch's attention, which distracted him enough for you to pull the gun from his grip. 

you distanced yourself from everyone, and looking around, you realized you were surrounded by everyone. your family and these random avatar people. everyone could read you. you were a ticking time bomb and the only person in control of the trigger was you. one of the avatars took a step forward slowly, but you saw him move and point the gun at him. it didn't stop him from moving, but you heard screams of protest when you pointed the gun at your own head. that's when everyone froze. the avatars. your family. nature. time. eywa. you. everything was frozen.

"babygirl…" the nickname made you snap your neck to the man who was the root of your problems. 

"NO! no, you do not get to call me that. if i can't call you ma sempu, don't bother referring to me as your daughter." you said. your energy was depleted, and you knew you would only be able to stand here for a couple more minutes before you opened your own doors and walked to your great-mother. jake tried to take a step closer to you, which only caused you to tense up and pull on the trigger a little bit. everyone immediately backed up, your mother hissing at you through her tears. "MA ITE, PUT THE GUN DOWN," she screamed at you.

"sa'nok…" you whimpered, not even being able to look her in the eyes. 

"sa'nu… i can't" you sobbed. you could barely breathe and your tears were coming down in waterfalls at this point. you couldn't see anything clearly. your tears had blurred your vision. 

you knew your mom loved you. she and tuk were the only ones in the family who had never uttered a harsh word in your direction. though she was busy taking care of tuk, so it wasn't like you got much attention from them either. but there's no way you would blame her or tuk for that. if anything, you're sorry that you have to leave them, but this world isn't for you. you turned on your heels, looking at the man whose gun you took.

"you are a coward. you should've pulled the goddamn trigger. you're fucking pathetic. are you happy now? now everyone here gets to experience what they've waited so long for." nobody had ever heard you speak to anyone like that. honestly, they couldn't tell if your words were directed at quaritch or yourself. 

you inhaled, looking up at the eclipse, your bioluminescent freckles glowing brighter than they ever had in the nighttime as tears cascaded down your face. 

"goodbye," you said as you squeezed the trigger, hearing a loud bang and tons of screaming. you felt no pain, though. you opened your eyes, not realizing you had closed them, and looked around. you noticed your pistol was stuck in the tree in front of you with an arrow clean through it. you turned to your twin with hate in your eyes. he lowered his bow as he read your expression. 

"now you wanna save me?" your voice was weak but filled with venom. 

"why didn't you save me when you noticed i stopped hanging out with you guys? hm? why didn't you teach me when i was younger? huh? why didn't you talk to me other than when you were chewing my ass out for something that was A FUCKING ACCIDENT, GODAMMIT. WHY?!" you felt like your tears were endless. 

"WHY DIDN'T YOU LOVE ME?! ANSWER ME YOU FUCKERS!! WHY DON'T YOU LOVE ME?!" you screamed your frustrations at your father and brothers. none of them could look you in your eyes, save for your mother. "you only want to save me because you know how much i don't want to be saved anymore but it's too goddamn late," you said.

you turned to the female avatar who was holding you from before. you noticed her gun earlier and hoped you looked threatening enough for her to use it as you ran in her direction. she didn't know what to do. she didn't know you were a barely trained warrior or that you wouldn't have put a scratch on her. she didn't know you were harmless. all she knew was that you were a native, and the natives were hostile. 

so she pulled her gun out and fired two shots into your chest.

the momentum of the bullet was enough to stop you from running. you felt the searing pain start to blossom in your chest area. falling to your knees, your eyes met the woman who had shot you. you looked at her shirt, reading her name. it was a funny name to you, but you didn't care. she had fulfilled your wish without even knowing it. so you used your last breath to speak.

"thank you, z-dog" you slumped over on your side, as everything started to go slow. your vision was starting to darken, and you let it consume you, not wanting to fight for your life anymore. 

cue the screams and cries from your family and the fleeing steps of the rda soldiers. your chest stopped rising and falling, and your breathing had ceased. your family surrounded your body, trying to stop your bleeding and preserve the life that had already left your body. still, you had been shot twice, and both bullets had exit wounds. it was no use. nearby, na'vi had heard the screams of distress and had called over some hunters and scouts to investigate the scene since they knew the area was near the forbidden old shack.

the hunters and scouts arrived at the scene armed and ready to defend their people, but what they were met with was the last thing they expected to see. the eldest sully daughter was lying on the floor, motionless, with two bullet holes in her chest and her blood sinking into the forest floor. her family leaned over her body, screaming and crying for her to be okay and to return to them. they whispered how sorry they were. they whispered to her how if she came back, they would treat her right, teach her, hang out with her, and love her like they were supposed to. but it's too late.

nobody knew how to react. the eldest sully daughter had died, and nobody but her family knew what had happened. 

“ma ite, oel ngati kameie. i see you. i'm sorry, i'm so so sorry. you don't have to be your brother. being you was just fine." your father cried as he cradled your head. brushing your hair away from your face, getting blood on your cheek since his hands were covered in it. 

neteyam and lo'ak were each holding one of your hands. they cried as they watched their tears pool in your palm and then fall off the edge to drip into the soil below your body. they couldn't believe they treated you like anything less than their sister. they treated you like you were a stranger, a burden to deal with. and now that you were gone, they could not tell you how sorry they were for how they treated you.

neytiri was inconsolable. her firstborn daughter had just died in front of her eyes. willingly. she wanted this. her own daughter wanted to take her life. and she couldn't do anything to stop it. how could she not know? how did you go 18 years hurting in silence? how did she not know you needed to be saved? 

"ma ite. my baby. ma y/n." neytiri's heart shattered when she saw those bullets go through your chest. she cried over your body for what felt like hours, but it was only a few minutes until the male healers came so they could carry you to the healing tents to prepare you for your burial ritual. 

as jake pulled his mate from your body, she started to push against him trying to get him to let go of her so she could return to her daughter. 

eventually, jake lets go, unable to keep his mate from her child. he joined her and just asked the healers to give your family a minute with you. 

they just nodded in understanding, leaving your family to grieve. 

two pairs of footsteps rushed towards the clearing, where the family mourned one of their own. 

kiri and tuk had heard the news and came as fast as they could. tuk screamed, running up to you and curling herself into your chest as she sobbed into your neck. she didn't care if she was getting blood all over herself. you were her older sister, and she didn't even get to say goodbye. she felt nothing but sadness and loss. tuk felt terrible because the last time she had seen you was earlier when you brought her back from the stream because she had sprained your ankle. and now you were lying on the forest floor dead? how did this happen?

"HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?! SISTER, PLEASE!!" kiri begged you to wake up as she placed herself where her father was earlier. she rested your head in her lap, looking into your lifeless yellow eyes. you were her elder sister. as much as you didn't know, kiri looked up to you. she knew how hard you tried for the family, and though it wasn't your fault that you would mess up a necklace every once and a while, she couldn't help but feel guilty for the words she said to you in those moments. she knew she could've should've been nicer about it. 

when it was finally time for the healers to take your body, once again, neytiri tried to fight against them. this time everyone in the family had to hold her back as the healer walked you away in a leaf big enough to cover your entire body from the eyes of those around you. once you were gone from her view, neytiri fell to the floor again, sobbing into the ground, 

"GREAT MOTHER, WHY?!!" their mother's screams felt like a knife in their hearts. the sully family felt nothing but guilt and grief upon your death. nobody got closure because there is no closure for this kind of thing. they were the reason you wanted to die, and now that you got what you wanted, they had to live with that guilt. 

you were high in being held in eywa's embrace as you cried. looking down on your family. you did not regret your decision, but you just had one question for your deity. 

"did they really love me, great mother." eywa heaved a sigh before answering you. 

"my ite, your mother and youngest sister loved you everyday, they were just very poor at showing it i'm afraid." you nodded your head, asking a follow-up question, 

"what about the others?" you knew by her face that you wouldn't like the answer, but it was too late. the question was asked. and the answer is precisely the reason why you did what you did.

"they loved you just a little bit too late, my child."

[theflamecrystal]

Flowers masterlist

Summary: A sunflower brings the end. What have the other flowers up their sleeves?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, strong reader, Dot hate, arguments, more to be added in separate chapters.

A/N: Be aware of the symbolism/meaning of every flower.

A/N2: This is a collection of drabbles.

Flowers (1) - Sunflower

Flowers (2) - Snapdragon

Flowers (3) - Soapwort

Flowers (4) - Daisy

Flowers (5) - Honeysuckle

[theflamecrystal]

August Masterlist

What if Will and the boys weren’t enough to stop JJ from pursuing Spencer?

From the moment that you met Spencer Reid, you knew that he was the love of your life. You are faced with the harsh realization of your unrequited love whenever a heart wrenching confession is dropped during a hostage situation and derails all of your fantasies.

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

[theflamecrystal]

Say “Don’t Go”

matt murdock x reader, matt murdock x karen page (high school au)

extremely angsty, heavily inspired by personal experience, i hate living fr

You, Matt, Foggy, Marci and Karen had become friends over the first semester. Everything was going great, until you got a weird hunch, which turned out to be spot on.

I’ve known it from the very start, we’re a shot in the darkest dark, oh no, i’m unarmed

“I seriously cannot believe our Philosophy teacher, she gave us a 100 item examination to be finished in 45 minutes? Has she gone insane? 100 Philosophy questions in 45 minutes?”, Matt rants as he angrily took a bite of his lunch. You try your best to keep your laughter in but end up snorting. Matt glares at you, “What’s so funny Y/n?” “Oh chill out Matt, it is a rather silly situation”, Marci states. “Yeah Matt, besides, at least you’re not the one stuck studying Physics”, Karen adds, referring to you. Matt pouts as he rests his head on your shoulder, making your other friends laugh, making your heart flutter. It has been like this for awhile between the two of you, hugs and cuddles, holding hands. Matt had been touchy with you since the day you two started interacting, a part of him probably couldn’t help it, he always had to hug you, to pat your head, to hold you close. Such actions slowly had you falling for him, til’ you finally fell in love, the moment he saved you from being hit by a truck. It happened so fast, and you weren’t thinking, you happened to step in the way of the truck that was backing up, luckily for your ass, Matt was walking with you and quickly grabbed you. Since that day you found yourself clinging onto Matt, seeking his touches.

Although these past few weeks, you couldn’t help but notice Matt giving Karen similar attention, he wasn’t as clingy to Karen as he was to you, but he certainly was more talkative with her. Probably because they had more shared interests than the two of you do. You felt a sharp pain in your chest the moment Matt started looking for Karen more compared to you. He never messaged you, but he’d hopped on calls with Karen several times, discussing their course and playing games you weren’t familiar with. You kept telling yourself that he’s probably just being friendly, he tends to be, right? There’s nothing to worry about, Karen’s not the one whose hand Matt holds, she’s not the one Matt kissed, it’s you.

It’s not fair, ‘cause you kiss me and it stops time, and i’m yours, but you’re not mine

After eating lunch with your friends, you bid them goodbye as you headed to class, you took a different course than all of them, they often ridiculed you for being the only STEM student amongst the group, but you always retorted with ‘I am a proud woman in STEM, you Humanities students wish you were me!’, a ridiculous statement, ridiculous enough to stop the teasing. But as you were about to enter the STEM building, you feel a hand grab you from behind. You turn around to see Matt, breathless as he just ran after you from the other side of the school grounds. “Oh, Matt… you okay?”, you ask, heart fluttering. Your mind flew to all directions, is he going to confess? is he going to say something that’d break my heart? or is he just going to borrow a pen? “Y/n, I… need your help with something”, he said, your heart sank, you had a bad feeling, this wasn’t going to end well for you. “Uh, yeah sure. What can I help you with?” “It’s Karen, I like her, can you help me confess to her?” There it was, the words you’ve been praying to not hear, the words that filled your nightmares. You stood there frozen, until luckily, the bell rang. “Oh my gosh, I’m gonna be late. Let’s talk about it later, okay?”, you said as you hurriedly ran away from Matt, rushing not towards your classroom, but towards the comfort room. There you started crying, endlessly, your sobs filled the room. How could I have been so stupid? I should’ve known. He would never want me, not over Karen.

Why’d have to lead me on, why’d you have to twist the knife, walk away and leave me bleeding?

After that day, you couldn’t bring yourself to talk to Matt and the rest of your friends again. You left the group chat, ignored them for 2 weeks. Until one day you found yourself conversing with Marci, you quickly ended the talk before it got any deeper. But that conversation led Marci to adding you back to the gc. There you saw a flood of pictures of Karen and Matt being all sweet together, being more than what you and Matt ever were. Your heart had now sunken completely. Anger, remorse and hatred flooded your brain, causing you to lash out in the middle of class, towards your favourite teacher. Luckily you also happened to be his favourite student, so instead of reprimanding you, he took you to the school park and checked on you. You poured your heart out to him, every single detail of the affair with Matt you told him. You were at your lowest, too hurt by the fact that the person you wanted the most, wanted your best friend instead.

Why’d you have to make me love you? I said ‘I love you’, you say nothing back

5:30 pm on a Friday, you were at the campus bus stop, waiting for one that’ll take you away. You couldn’t bear to see your friends anymore, so you decided to move to a different campus, still of the same school, but in a much farther place, same place your favourite teacher was headed to for his transfer. Just then, Matt was headed your way, with his walking stick, holding a bouquet of flowers in one hand. You stood there, thinking, maybe they were for you, maybe he’d beg you to not leave, to stay, to stay with him.

I would stay forever if you say “don’t go”

But reality hits you once again, the flowers were most definitely not for you, he didn’t come to beg you to stay. He simply walked past you, not even noticing you, the fact that he was no longer familiar to your presence evident in his actions. He couldn’t recognise you just by aura anymore, you weren’t anything to him anymore.

but you won’t

Your bus arrives, you pick up your luggage and head inside. You find a seat, plug in your earphones and rest you head on the window. You took one last look at academy you’ve grown to love over the past few months, sighing as music starts playing in your ear. Just then your teacher whom you talked with the other day sits next to you and taps your shoulder. “Hey Y/N, it’s going to be alright, you’re going to love the Annex Campus. What happened was for the best okay?” You simply nodded and increased the volume of your earphones. The bus soon departed, with tears streaming down your face you told to yourself, I’ll find someone better I’m sure, this is all for the best.

the end !!! that was the saddest fic i’ve written so far, i hope you guys understood it, likes and reblogs are highly appreciated !! see you guys in my next fic 💋

© castle–archives 2023

[theflamecrystal]

Avoidance - Bucky Barnes

Authors Note: Clearing out drafts and found this puppy, there is a part two but I have to edit it.. Enjoy!

Word count: 3833

Warnings: Angst.

Enjoy!

This was weird, and by weird you mean absolutely outrageous. You honestly had no clue when it started, but you had racked your brain for the past month to try and see where you had gone wrong. Something you might have said or done to make things this way. 

You had to have done something. 

Because a month ago Bucky Barnes had been your best friend on this earth, stuck together at the hip. A month ago your friendship had been forged by steel, you would rarely see one without the other. Dinners and sleepovers and missions together. It was Bucky and Y/n, Y/n and Bucky. 

It had been a friendship that had started off a little rocky, since Bucky had been stuck to Steve’s side, quiet as ever. You had been a bit too much when he came to the compound, excited to welcome him and show him the best the new world has to offer since you yourself had been a victim of Hydra as well. 

You had once been an excited scientist ready to change the world of medicine and instead had come out a mutant that could talk to plants. Years of pain and finally you were meeting someone you might be able to help. 

But Bucky had not enjoyed your help, in fact he didn’t seem to enjoy you at all. When you first met years ago he would all but leave the room whenever you came in. 

At first you felt pathetic, and a little bit annoying, but Bucky finally opened up. He apologized and explained that he was nervous, nervous to be around you and nervous that you would have recognized him. 

Soon after that he came to you for cooking advice and movie nights, you showed him the plants and best healing herbs. You told Bucky everything….. Well almost everything.

You had never told him how you truly felt. How your heartbeat through your chest everytime he looked at you, or the way your lungs seemed to expand for easier air when he spoke to you. Never admit to the heat that filled your body every time you touched him. 

You never admitted to loving him, but that was because you were sure that he would start avoiding you again just like he had when you first met. 

Not that it mattered because he started avoiding you again anyways. 

You think about the day you met him  as you shuffle about your apartment in Stark Tower, barefoot on the cold floors as you try to let the nail polish dry easily and clean up the living room. 

- 

The compound smelled of heavy lemon cleaning solution and you couldn’t decide if you loved or hated the smell, but that didn’t really matter now as you dashed through the halls. Your shoes clapped against the freshly cleaned floors as you did your ebay to fix your lab coat and hair. 

You were supposed to meet Steve and Nat at the quinjet landing pad 30 minutes ago, but had ended up taking a few more patients for the day before Mr. Stark had reminded you to clock out. 

You were leading his new medicinal lead, a program that would offer access to better medicine to the people of the world. And though he loved working in the lab with you he often had to remind you not to overwork yourself. 

You just wish he had reminded you a little sooner today since you were desperate to make a good first impression. And that wasn’t going to happen if you were late. 

“No running in the halls!” Clint calls in a teasing manner which makes you punch his arm as you pass, nearly tripping yourself up since you weren’t paying attention but finally you were hopping up the stairs to the rooftop exit, covered in sweat as you hear the thunderous sound of the quinjet wings starting up again. 

You push the heavy door open and gasp in surprise when Steve and a brunette stranger lean back with wide eyes, the door barely skimming the blonde’s nose. 

“There she is, dangerous as usual.” Nat smiles, coming around to hug you as you shut the door quieter this time. 

“Hey, I’m so sorry I am late-” You start, hugging your best friend before moving to hug Steve who lifts you a little when he hugs back, kissing your hair line before letting you go and backing up so you could see his friend.  “You must be Bucky.”

You move to hug him, realizing your mistake a second too late when he backs up, his fists tightening at his sides while his arctic blue eyes widen like a caged animal, his jaw tenses. He had been prepared for a fight, so you take a step back, even out your lab coat and try to smile. “Sorry, I don’t know why I did that. I’m y/n.”

He nods, the quinjet taking off in the back which makes you and him both flinch, the wind whipping your hair around before Steve is pulling you by your arm as softly as he can to lead you both inside. 

“We were just talking about getting something to eat-” Steve begins when they finally close the door. 

“Oh, we could take him to that diner that you like Stevie. The one that has the old school food-”

“Maybe just us tonight.” Nat interrupts, casting a nervous look to where Bucky stands in the corner, jaw still tense. 

You read the room easily, Nat must know Bucky doesn’t want to be near you right now so you simply nod, giving them one more smile before reaching your hand out to him. “It was great to meet you…..”

He ignores your hand and you have to awkwardly shove it back into your pocket before nodding, taking your leave as Nat mumbles to him in russian. 

- 

When you are sure your apartments are clean enough you leave for your lab shift a little early so that you could stop by Bucks apartment, nervous as can be when you make it there. 

Reaching a hand up to knock lightly and wait, your feet shuffling on the floors as you rub at your eyes from the lack of sleep, trying to keep yourself awake. When the door creaks open the tiniest bit you pull your hands down quickly and try to act cool when you make eye contact with Bucky. 

“Hey Buck.” You smile, doing your best to act happy. He stares for a moment, blue eyes flashing in excitement that gets your hopes up as he opens the door a little wider. 

“Mornin’.” He grunts out, looking back to check the time before turning to you once more. “A bit early isn’t it?”

“Yes. Sorry. I was heading to the lab but I wanted to see if you still wanted to have dinner tonight? I get off at 5 but-”

“I’m a bit busy tonight, sorry Do-Y/n.” He clears his throat, using his flesh fingers to comb his hair back. 

“You sure? It’s pancake night at the diner-”

“Not tonight. I will see you later, Y/n.” He sighs, giving you one last smile before shutting the door softly. 

You stay there a moment, trying to calm your nerves as you hear a small thump on the other side of the door and assume he must have locked it so you simply sigh and walk to the lab where Tony is chugging a large cup of coffee. 

“Morning dork.” He greets, smiling a bit as he nods his head to the box of donuts to the side. “Since you have been down lately.”

You didn’t want to admit to Tony that you had ‘been down’ because you missed Bucky, that would be embarrassing and might clue him in to your crush. So you give him your best smile, and kiss his cheek before moving to your station to begin working. 

But you can’t get Bucky out of your head. All you can think is ‘what did I do? Why is he mad at me? How can I fix this?”

Anxiety claws at your nerves, and you are too far into your thoughts to notice the chaos that your anxiety is ensuing over the lab. That is until you hear both Tony and Bruce curse and jump back, glass shattering. 

Your head snaps back to where they are both trying to regain their footing and find that the small houseplant Pepper had given Bruce for his birthday had grown tenfold. The vines covered most of the lab. 

“Apparently the donuts did not cheer her up.” Bruce sighs, both of them turning to where you are standing with your hands clenched around a beaker and a pen as tight as they would go. 

“I’m so sorry guys-”

“Can you undo it?” Bruce asks gently and you scoff.

“Can you undo damages to buildings when you-”

“I know I know. I’m sorry.” He laughs, waving his hands. “Hulk smashes, poison ivy grows plants-”

“I’m not-”

“She’s not poison ivy.” Tony snaps in your defense and you feel a wave a love for him before he ruins it. “She’s itchy oak.”

“You are so dead!” 

- 

Bucky was screwed. So unbelievably screwed.

This whole plan was tearing him apart, and he didn’t think he could hold out much longer, even smelling your shampoo this morning had him ready to crack. Pull you into his arms and never let you go. 

But he couldn’t, Natasha had told him not to. 

This started the day he met you, the day he fell in love. 

He had been standing on the quinjet with Steve and Nat, trying to pretend as though he wasn’t losing his mind at all the commotion. The sounds of the Quinet queuing up behind them, the wind nipping at his cheeks and neck as he thought of all the spots snipers could be hiding in the buildings by them though Stark Tower stood tall enough no one should be able to shoot him. He just couldn’t help it; he was a soldier. 

Nat seemed to realize his tension, pushing both men forward to the door before it swung open, a hair's breadth from Steve’s face. He hears Nat giggle and the quinjet start up again as his eyes finally land on you. 

There you were, perfection in human form. Sunlight and warmth and…..just everything he could ever want. 

His brain barely registered you moving to hug him before he moved back, tensing and letting the fear control him. 

“Sorry, I don’t know why I did that. I’m Y/n.” You had said and he saw what looked to be nervousness covering your face as his heart lurched. Two seconds in and he was already ruining you. 

All he could think was ‘monster. Monster monster monster.”

It took weeks for Steve to convince him to talk to you. 

And he was so grateful he did. 

- 

The lab was bright, and there was not a speck of dust in sight. And yet, somehow, the room that should have reminded him most of Hydra didn’t feel like it. Rather than a cold brightness it was warm lights from the glass windows and the desks were decorated with plants and photos. Little knick knacks strewn about that showed that the people who worked in here were human, good and warm humans. 

And then his eyes landed on your desk, where you currently concentrated on something he could barely comprehend, a beautiful cactus in a decorated pot on the shelf by you. 

Wiping the sweat on his pants, and taking a deep breath in before he moves up to where you were. 

“You don’t have to water cacti.” He blurts, gasping out when you shout in shock , the back on your head hitting the shelf. 

“What?” You gasp out, rubbing your head. 

“I read…” He takes a second to breathe in. “I read somewhere that you don’t have to water them everyday. They are self-sufficient.”

“Oh! Yeah, they like water every 2 weeks and of course sunlight but….” You trail off, turning to the small cactus that seems to stand taller at your attention. Then you turn back to him with a nervous smile. “What are you doing? Are you feeling ill?”

“Me? No. I was…. I was actually wondering if you would show me that diner you had talked about the day I came-”

“YES!” You blurt, jumping up and taking your lab coat off. “I am starving.”

He spent the next three hours with you at the diner, talking about everything in the new world that he had found. 

- 

Weekly dinners turned into hanging out every day. Which was amazing because Bucky felt like he could truly breathe when he was with you. 

There was no Winter Soldier, there was no Soviet Soldier. There was no World War 2 sniper. With you he was Bucky. 

But he fell in love with you, and he had no clue how to talk to you about that. He was terrified that you would never talk to him again. 

Which lead him to this. 

“Maybe you just need a break.” Nat suggested last month, watching him try to climb off the sparring mat and catch his breath. 

“I do.” He snaps. “I don’t know how you are never out of breath -”

“I meant from y/n.” She corrects. “Just take a breather. You both are so wrapped up in each other that you forget to breathe without each other. Codependency hurts more when it’s forcefully torn rather than willingly.”

“What do you mean?”

“Take a break on your terms. Just a breather Barnes. You are tearing yourself apart.”

“So what do I do? Just not hang out with her? I can’t breathe when I’m not with her-”

“That’s my point..” She sighs. 

- 

“I don’t get it… why are you mad?” Bucky asks, craning his neck to watch you shuffle around behind the couch, snatching the snacks you brought over and climbing over the couch before you are cuddled into his side and near his warmth. 

“I’m mad, Buck, because you just admitted to an actual sin.” You mumble, allowing him to wrap you in the blanket and pull you closer. “How have you not seen it yet? Everyone has. Hunger Games is a national…..”

“National?” He asks, eyebrow lifting as he waits for you to finish your sentence, reaching a hand up to rub his thumb over your cheek, lovingly. 

“Well I don’t want to say treasure because that just feels wrong since it’s a bunch of kids fighting to the death but everyone needs to see it once.” You gush and he can’t help but smile as you snatch the remote and start the movie. “I brought twizzlers so-”

He cuts you off by snatching the twizzlers and moving you both around so your head was laying on his chest and your legs intertwined with his own. “What’s with that guy's beard? And why is the other guy's hair blue?”

“Just you wait……”

- 

“Did I say something to upset him?” You ask Steve, following him around the kitchen like a lost duck while he cooks dinner for the team tonight.  “What did I do Steve?”

“I don’t think you did anything.” He sighs, giving you a pitious glance, before he starts chopping tomatoes. “Buck practically worships the ground you walk on, trust me I would know if you did something wrong.”

“I just don’t underst-” Before you could finish your sentence Steve watches as your phone rings and Yelena’s face pops up. You give him an apologetic glance before leaving the room, and right as you leave one door his best pal comes in another. 

“Need any help?” Bucky asks, with Sam slinking behind him with a bag of chips. 

“No junk food before dinner.” He snaps, snatching the bag and tossing it to the side which makes Sam groan out and move to grab a drink, stopping at the sight of the shriveled plant. 

“Someone get rid of that before Y/n sees it.”  He laughs, making the other two look to it. 

“I watered that plant 30 minutes ago.” Steve gasps, “it was fully alive before she came in-”

“You mean…. You mean to tell me Y/n drained a plant?” Sam asks, casting a side eye to where Bucky stands with a worried look. 

“Is she okay?” He asks, walking up and using his flesh hand to touch at the leaves before he picks up the pot and pulls it close to himself. “I’m gonna get rid of this before she sees what happened to it.”

“You should talk to her, Buck.” Steve sighs. “She’s worried that she did something.” 

- 

The rain beat against the window harshly, thunder rumbling in the distance as the smell of the spearmint candle you lit earlier fills the air. 

Bucky wakes up slowly, exhaustion still filling his body as he swipes a hand to rub his eyes, lifting his head ever so slightly to see what had managed to wake him up. Vision blurry as he surveys the room for threats only to find you curled in on yourself with vines covering your arms. 

Panic claws at him, moving forward to push the hair out of your face and wake you slowly, kissing at your forehead. 

You open your eyes slowly, and he whispers to help ease your anxiety, kissing the corner of your lips as he rubs at your arms. “What’s going on?”

“Bad dream…” You mumble out, shoving your face in his chest. 

“What were you dreaming about?” 

“My cell.” His spine tightens as he remembers what you had to go through. The damp and moldy cell they kept you in, the years of abuse and torture. Of course the rainstorm would draw these memories out. 

“Come here, doll” He whispers, pulling the blanket tighter around you both and keeping a tight hold on you. “Just stay with me, yeah? We’ll be alright together.”

You both fall back asleep, keeping a tight hold on eachother. 

-

Three mornings later you find yourself prepped and ready to go for the mission, nerves racking through your body as you walk to the loading bay of the quinjet. With your duffel bag strewn over one shoulder and your gloves in your hand as you try to smile at Bucky. 

“Hey Buck.” You start, watching everyone else in their suits. “Are you ready for the mission?” 

“As ready as I can be…. Did you sleep last night?” He asks, stepping closer with a worried expression before thinking and stepping back. 

“Not really. I was actually hoping to talk to you before the-”

“Alright Barnes. Are you ready?” Natasha asks, coming up behind him. “We need to talk about-”

“Wait, what?” You interrupt, heart clenching. “Are you…..wait are you guys teaming up this session?” 

You truly didn’t want to seem lame when you asked this, but you were so confused. “Buck, we always pair up.”

Why did you feel like a middle schooler again? 

“Well, sometimes things change. And Nat is down a partner since Clint is with his family.” Bucky blushes, looking between you and Nat as she narrows her eyes. 

Feeling your eyes fill with tears you rush to go into the quinjet, dashing past Steve to find a spot. 

The blonde narrows his eyes and marches to his friend, where Nat is already digging in. “What was that?” 

“What was what?” Bucky asks nervously, eyes casting everywhere else. 

“I told you to take a break, Barnes. Not cut her off.” Nat snaps.

“Why did you tell him to cut her off?” Steve asks, hands on his hips as he glares at the two of them.

“I didn’t say to cut her off. I said to take a break.”

“Why?!” 

“Because he loves her!”

“Still not catching up.” Steve sighs. “Why take a break if he loves her?”

“Because she is never gonna love me back!” His friend snaps, “She controls plants and I’m a monster.”

“You’re not a monster-”

“We’ll talk about this later.” Bucky snaps and storms off. 

- 

The waitress at the old school diner recognized you and Bucky by now, smiling at you both as you walked in with your hands entwined. She nods her head to your normal booth and Bucky leads the way. 

You eat dinner, listening to Bucky talk about his day before the waitress comes by with a sunday. 

“The older couple sent this for you guys.” She smiles. “They said you were an adorable couple.”

Your face goes beet red, blanching out before you rush out. “We’re not a couple.”

Bucky gets embarrassed by this, the blatant rejection. Meanwhile you were worried about the fact that Bucky would realize your crush. 

“D-Did you still want to watch Star Trek tomorrow?” You ask nervously. 

“Actually I have to train with Nat tomorrow.” He sighs, ears going pink as he blushes. 

- 

The rain outside the quinjet was alarming, your nerves were beginning to get the best of you, but you were trying to remain cool as you avoided looking in Bucky’s direction. 

With your leg shaking and Sam prattling off different codes you tried to focus on anything else but the rain, anything, just so long as you didn’t lose your cool right now. 

You were nervous, because of the rain and the fact that you would be the only one without a partner, but most of all you were angry. 

What had you done to Bucky to be cut out this way? 

A five year friendship completely cut off with no explanation as to why. Treated like the scum on a shoe and for what? What had you done and why couldn’t he just talk to you?

“Y/n?” Sam calls, snapping your attention up to him as he peers at you. “You okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” You fake a laugh, hands fisted into your sides as you hear a flash of thunder in the distance, thoughts going back to that moldy and cold cell they had kept you in. You could still feel the vines leaching across your body in an attempt to keep you warm, using all your strength just to grow them. 

“Because Steve has been calling your name for three minutes.” Sam whispers which makes you turn to where Steve is standing with a deeply concerned look. Bucky and  Nat sit together behind him, both of them holding concerned looks of their own. 

Making eye contact with Bucky, watching his blue eyes melt at you, before an angry vile feeling loosens in your chest. You didn’t want any of their pity. 

If he didn’t want to talk to you then so be it. 

So you simply turn away and nod to Steve, turning to the front so you don't have to look at any of them. 

If Barnes wanted to cut you out then so be it. You would cut him out as well.

Part Two

[theflamecrystal]

-ˏˋ Regulus A. Black.ˊˎ

-‘๑ Selfless — Angst.

-‘๑ Fixed — Fluff.

-‘๑ Bondage — 18+, smut.

𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚖𝚢𝚖𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚘𝚗 ® 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟸.

[theflamecrystal]

This is how it feels {part one}

PAIRING: king!steve Harrington x fem!reader Billy Hargrove x Fem!reader WC: over 3500 CW: Minors do not interact!! No use of y/n, use of she/her pronouns, slow burn, lots of angst, smut, foreplay, m and f receiving, p in v, unprotected sex, modern based so mentions of mobiles and streaming services etc, mention of smoking, heartbreak, king steve. SUMMARY: After you give yourself to Steve, he never returns your messages and avoids you in the halls. As it becomes apparent that he's used you, you find yourself seeking comfort in another and the tables turning. AUTHOR NOTES: Here is part one of my fic, Yes it kicks off with reader and Steve smut, you're welcome! I hope you like it. I'd love to know your opinions, what you'd like to see happen, etc. I'm hoping to update every Sunday! Thank you to entermxnson for reading it and credit to @cafekitsune for the divider

His fingertips felt like fire, as they ran down your arms. You hadn't expected the night to end like this, it was your third date you'd promised yourself it was too early. But now you were in his room, your body hot because of each touch that King Steve placed on your skin. His lips ran over your neck, causing a strangled whimper to leave your lips. “Does my girl like that?” You could hear the smirk in his voice as he heard your noises. He’d craved this since he first clapped eyes on you in that little thigh-length summer dress, at the start of April.

The courting had been a long process for Steve, frustration mostly because you'd knocked him back again and again. He was the king, every girl wanted to be the queen. But not you, you didn't want that it seemed and it left him feeling incredibly frustrated. You'd only given in and agreed to date him when he stood up on the table in the cafeteria, yelled your name across the room and asked you out. So many eyes on you at that moment, you felt like you were going to throw up. It was one of those high school cliche moments, everyone waiting for your answer.

How could you say no to him, then?

“Yes.” You finally managed to say to him, You did like that, you liked his lips on your neck a lot. You could feel the heat pooling between your legs, as his hand moved to the flimsy strap on your dress and pulled it down. “Steve…” You whispered as he touched your zip.

 “Do you want me to stop?” He asked gently, looking you in the eyes.

 “No… I just haven't done this before.” You admitted, your cheeks flushing red.

 “It's okay, I'll guide you.” His words helped you relax, as did the kiss he planted on your jaw a moment later. His thumb ran over your cheek as he pressed against you, slowly guiding you down onto his pillows. “I promise I'll be gentle.” 

Lying in his bed, you found yourself struggling to believe that you and Steve Harrington were going to have sex. Biting your lip gently, you watched as he took his shirt off and tossed it to the ground. “Do you like what you see?” He asked as he noticed your eyes running over him hungrily like a piece of meat.

 “Very much so.” He grinned, moving his hands around you to pull down your zip.

Your dress hit the floor, the same time your hips landed back on the bed, Steve watched you, sucking in a breath at the sight of you in your lace lingerie. Taking your hand, he pulled you up and looked you in the eyes. “I know you're nervous, I am too. I've not liked anyone the way I like you ever.” He whispered. 

“I like you too.” You replied, causing him to smile. Becoming a little braver, your free hand moved to touch him through his jeans. A hum left his lips, and you found yourself desperate to hear more of it. 

Letting go of his hand, you worked on his jeans needing to see more of him. Finally, you were able to pull them off -taking his boxers too- and found yourself staring, mouth agape. “Suck it.” Steve husked, as he watched you staring at his naked body. Taking hold of his shaft, you looked at how big his thick cock looked like in your hand. You could hardly get your hand around it. Steve lets out a small moan as he watches you slowly lean down and take him in your mouth. 

You start slow, shy almost. Letting the tip into your mouth, your tongue washing over the masterpiece before you. As you inch him further into your mouth, you can't help but glance up, seeing his head leaning back and his hand running through his hair as he lets out a small groan. Looking back down to the task at hand, you take him slightly deeper, feeling his shaft on your tongue. Your tongue glides up the shaft as our head slowly starts bobbing up and down, taking him further each time. “That's it, baby girl, just like that.” He uttered humming once more.

As you move your head up, you taste the salty liquid of precum. A small moan leaves your lips as you focus on his hole wanting to taste it as much as possible. You feel his hand slipping into your hair and starting to grip tightly as he pushes you back down needing to be further in your mouth. “Such a good girl.” He moaned. “Who would've thought you're not as sweet and innocent as people thought.” He told you as Steve started to fuck your mouth, his cock moving faster seeing just how much of him you could take.

You kept yourself relaxed, taking how he wanted you to. Desperate to impress him as well as pleasure him. But then he suddenly pulled out of your mouth, leaving you to whine. “It's okay baby, I just don't want to spill my load in your mouth.” He assured you. His hands found your hips easily and he pulled you down on top of him, his lips crashing against yours as his hands fiddled with your bra and underwear desperate to see the treats that lay under them. As he got them off, he rolled you over onto your back, throwing the items to the ground. 

Nestling himself between your legs, he looked down at you. “You're so beautiful.” He told you as his fingers brushed over your cheek. You couldn't help but blush, a small shy smile on your face. 

His thumb ran over your lips once more before he moved down between your legs, he began to kiss your thighs, biting and sucking on them. Your hand moved to his and gripped his hair. “Steve!” She moaned as your body arched toward him. “I'm going to taste you.” The king whispered against your thigh. Nodding gently you looked at him as he moved between your legs.

You watched him, watched as he licked from your wet folds up to your clit then back again. Whimpers instantly began to fall from your lips, but soon turned to moans as he settled himself on your clit and pushed two fingers inside. Your hand tugged on his now messy locks as he worked his magic with his tongue. “Steve, oh god!” You cried out feeling him smirking as he pumped his fingers in, needing to stretch you out so you could take him.

 “You're going to take me so well.” He told you between licks and sucks of your bean.

Being so inexperienced, and feeling your whole body on fire, it didn't take him long to bring you to the brink. Your stomach twisted and turned in knots, your free hand gripped hard to the sheets below as a flood of pleasure washed over you. “Steve!” You moaned out, his fingers and tongue working faster to bring you to your climax. 

Your hips arched toward him, your body shook with the force of his skills between your legs. He worked you through it before sitting back and licking his fingers clean, his eyes on you the whole time. “You taste amazing.” 

Leaning down, he kissed your jaw softly. Anticipation hung in the air as you both knew what was coming next. “Are you sure?” He asked as he moved his hand to touch your cheek. 

“Yeah.” You answered in hardly a whisper. His eyes stayed on yours as he moved his hand to line himself up with your entrance. Your body felt almost like it was shaking still, you weren't sure if it was still because of the orgasm or what was going to happen next. But you could feel the nerves bubbling in your stomach as you moved your hands to take hold of his shoulders. 

Slowly, Steve pushed inside of you. A gasp fell from your lips. You'd never felt this full before, never felt a feeling like this. You could feel yourself stretching around him, making adjustments for him. “You're so tight.” He moaned looking in your eyes with a lopsided smile. You smiled back, you could get used to this, used to the way it felt as your naked bodies pressed together as his cock twitched inside of you as he gave you that moment you needed to adjust to him. 

His lips pressed against your neck, sucking gently as he began to thrust inside of you. Your hands gripped hold of his back, your nails pressing into his flesh. “Good girl, taking me so well,” Steve uttered against your skin. Steve's hand ran down your body to your leg, pushing it up and lifting it over his shoulder. “Oh god!” You cried out as he thrust in deeper. “Steve!” He pulled back from your neck and looked down at you, the smirk back on his face.

“You like that, you dirty girl,” Steve uttered, biting his lip as he watched the look on your face as he thrust inside of you.

“Yes!” You cried out as he began to move faster, each thrust bottoming out inside of you. Your nails dug in hard to his back, causing the king of Hawkins High to cry out loudly. “Do you like that?” You questioned starting to become a little more confident. He didn't answer, he just nodded his head as he moved his hand to stroke your cheek. His thumb moved down and into your mouth, you instantly started to suck on it as it passed your lips. 

“Good girl.” He whispered, biting his lip between his teeth. 

You couldn't help but stare up at his face, looking at the way his hair bounced, watching the way his jaw went tight, or the desire in his eye, the light Sheen of sweat on his brow. He took his hand from your mouth and moved it down to your breast, his hand kneading it like it was dough. Your eyes started to close, getting lost in the pleasure. But his hand dropped from the breast and grabbed your chin. “Keep looking at me.” He ordered, thrusting hard inside of you almost like a punishment. His hand moved back to your breast, this time rubbing and tweaking your nipple. 

“Steve!” You gasped, your body arched wanting to feel him deeper inside of you. Dropping your leg, he moved his hand either side of you in the bed and started to thrust harder. 

“I'm close.” You announced and he seemingly smirked.

“So am I.” He told you. “Am I okay to...?” You nodded gently as his thrusts became as fast as he possibly could. 

“Yes!” You cried out. Your orgasm hit you a moment later, you couldn't help but let out a loud gasp. Your body arched, and your hands held him tightly. “Steve!” His name came out of your lips in a moan, your body starting to shake as he fucked you through your orgasm.

 “Fuck!” Steve uttered with a thrust, you could feel his cock twitching inside of you filling you with his seed. 

He thrust inside of you a couple more times, making sure he was empty before he pulled out and looked down at you. “Look at you, such a mess,” Steve smirked as he reached down and pushed his cum back inside of you, causing your body to twitch and throb at the feel of him. Moving up the bed, he lay beside you and pushed his fingers into your mouth. “See how we taste together.” He ordered you. Licking and sucking his fingers, he smirked softly. “Such a good girl.” He whispered watching you clean his fingers. 

Pulling them from you he smirked softly and lay back his arm resting behind his head as he basked in the post-sex glow. “Are you going to stay for a while? Or have you got to be going?” Steve asked you, causing you to question if he was throwing you out or not. “Do you want me to go!” You asked awkwardly. “Well I'm pretty tired, but you can stay if you want.” Sitting up, you shook your head. “I’ll leave you to sleep.” You said gently. Steve sat up and pressed his lips to your shoulder. “I'll call you.” He whispered gently against your skin. “I look forward to it.” You whispered glancing over at him before he lay back down leaving you to dress and see yourself out.

By Sunday night, he still hadn't called you.

“You keep staring at that thing, it will drive you crazy,” Robin said leaning on the arm of the couch watching you instead of the shitty horror film you'd put on for your weekly movie night. 

“Why hasn't he called me?” You asked softly as you looked from your phone to her. 

“Because he's an asshole and I told you not to go on a date with him let alone three,” Robin replied as she reached over and grabbed your phone. 

“What are you doing?” You asked as she opened up your contacts. 

“Calling him.” Was all she replied. Panic set in as you grabbed for the phone, but Robin held it out of your reach and hit the dial.

“Robin! No, I’ve already called him three times he never answered!” You cried as she handed the phone to you, the sound of the ringing phone causing your heart to pound hard. 

“Hello, sweetheart.” The phone answered, but it wasn't Steve’s voice. “I'm afraid Steve is busy right now… Carol, what was the girl's name?” You heard him speaking to someone else knowing this was now a public thing. “Right, right. Carrie, Connie, something like that. Anyway, shall I tell him you called?”

Your heart tightened as you listened to Tommy talking, you struggled to keep yourself composed. Robin had noticed and moved her hand to touch your arm, glancing at her, your head shook softly. “No, it's okay. I meant to call Robin, they're next to each other on contacts.” You lied, it was responded with a scoff of course.

“Whatever, goodbye.”

The line went dead and you sat there holding the phone in your ear, your chest aching and tears filling your eyes. Robin didn't need to ask, she took the phone and put it down on the table as she pulled you into a cuddle and held you close to her. “It's okay, you're okay. I got you.” Robin uttered as she held you close as you sobbed. 

“He's with someone else.” You said as you wiped your eyes. “I thought he liked me, he said he did and I believed him… but he never called and was with someone else. I feel so stupid Robin.” You said as more tears replaced the tears you'd wiped away. 

Robin was quiet, she just held you close and hugged you tight. She didn't know what to say to you, she knew how big of a deal for you to sleep with someone. You fell into his arms and fell into his trap like a fool.

A scream on the TV caused you to look up, you found yourself watching as the girl was stabbed again and again. It was how you felt, this was precisely the way you felt. Apart from the person holding the knife was Steve Harrington, and all you could say was ‘I thought you liked me’.

Robin refused to leave that night, It didn't surprise your parents to see she'd stayed over, it never did when you two had unplanned sleepovers, or when she came over for dinner, breakfast, anytime really. Robin’s parents were close with yours, it helped the pair of you become close even if you were in different grades. 

She comforted you until the early hours even though you both had school tomorrow. When you fell asleep on her, she couldn't help but smile at her best friend fast asleep. “At peace at last,” Robin whispered gently as she looked down at you, carefully she laid you down, then lay down to sleep herself. Reaching over and cuddling you in your sleep to give you the comfort that she knew you'd need.

“Get up girls, you have to get ready for school.” Your head throbbed as you opened your eyes, you could feel they were puffy and you couldn't help but feel sick. You wondered if you could get a day off, you didn't want to see Steve let alone share the same area as him. You felt scared, nervous, and still crushed that he could do this to you. King Steve, was an asshole. It was a fact that you'd need to live with for the rest of your life. You'd been played, and now you had to suffer with the pain that came along with it

“I'm going for a shower, don't worry about going to school. I got your back.” You smiled weakly as Robin patted your shoulder, you never knew what you did to deserve a best friend like Robin. But you were glad that you had her. Leaving the room, you went to the main bathroom and washed your face with cold water, hoping to take away the puffiness in your eyes. 

Everything went by in a blur after that, even the walk to school went fast. Before you knew it, you were standing at the door of Hawkins High School. You wanted to turn back, everything told to you too. But Robin took your arm and pulled you through the doors, there was no turning back now.

“You're okay,” Robin whispered as the pair of you headed down the halls. Your heart thumped hard. You felt like everyone was staring at you, did they know you'd fallen for King Steve’s charm? Maybe they did, he told Tommy who probably told Carol who had a loud mouth. If they knew, well they probably thought you were a slut you found yourself wondering if you were really, but you couldn't be classed as a slut, it was your first time.

How long would it be until you saw him? How long would it be before you saw the King and those idiots he called friends? That was what was bubbling in your head right now, your heart thumped harder as you rounded the corner toward your locker. 

Times up.

“Shit!” You hissed out. Steve was leaning on his locker with his arms folded and that cocky, sexy smirk of his, as some cheerleader spoke to him and Tommy and Carol stood beside him laughing at something that was said. Were they laughing at you? You and your stupid gullible nature that trusted him and let him into your underwear? You could feel the tears threatening to spill out as you looked at him, happy and enjoying the attention as always.

Spinning around, you turned to step only to collide with Billy Hargrove causing a scene and for everyone to look up and see you both on the ground papers everywhere. 

“Double shit!” You uttered as you looked at Billy. “I'm sorry Billy, I wasn't looking where I was going.” You said quickly as you started to pick up your papers with Robin’s and Billy’s help.

“It's my fault, I should've planted my feet,” Billy commented with a small smirk as he finished collecting some papers and stood up, looking up as he held his hand out to you, You couldn't help but smile and take it. You knew Billy was the bad boy of Hawkins High, everyone knew it but, sometimes there were nice moments. Maybe he'd had his coffee this morning. 

“Thanks.” 

“Always,” Billy said looking at you with that smolder that caused all the girls to go weak at the knees. Smiling back, he expected him to walk away, instead, he glanced up and noticed Steve watching the pair of you. “He's not worth your tears.” He whispered into your ear, if that wasn't shocking enough you felt his lips touch your cheek before he grabbed his bag and walked off down the hall leaving you standing still, stunned. Turning around, you watched him walk away as your eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

You snapped out of your confusion as the first bell rang, looking toward Steve you found him staring at you. Staring at him for a moment you could feel the knots and pain bubbling in your stomach once more, you wanted to approach him and ask to talk to him. 

For a moment you panicked that he’d think that something was happening between you Billy. But then the cheerleader (whose name you couldn't remember) planted a kiss on Steve’s lips and then ran off down the hall. Of course, you shouldn't care, Steve had already picked his next girl. 

Turning on your heel you walked away, trying to keep your head held high and hide the pain that was ripping your chest apart. 

You knew you'd not be able to escape him today, he had several classes with you. The first was English, walking in, you took an empty seat that was surrounded by other people to avoid having to pair up at all with Steve. Getting your things sorted, you glanced at the door as he walked in. He walked straight toward you, or so you thought he wanted the chair in the back corner of the room, but decided to pass you as he went. 

Keeping your eyes down, you felt him moving past you and saw a piece of paper land on your desk at the same time. Glancing after him, you looked back at the note and slowly opened it.

My Car at lunch. Steve.

tag list: @entermxnson

[theflamecrystal]

SO SCARLET (IT WAS MAROON)

two years ago, eddie munson got everything he’d ever wanted - except you. when fate brings the two of you back together, can he get the answers to all the questions you left him with?

☆ tropes: second chance romance, exes to lovers, modern au

☆ warnings: strong language, angst, alcohol/drug consumption, eventual smut, minors dni

☆ pairings: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader

spotify playlist

ao3

MASTERLIST:

PROLOGUE (the original 'one shot')*

CHAPTER ONE: CLOSURE

CHAPTER TWO: DON’T YOU

CHAPTER THREE: HOW YOU GET THE GIRL [coming soon]

CHAPTER FOUR: BACK TO DECEMBER [coming soon]

CHAPTER FIVE: QUESTION…? [coming soon]

CHAPTER SIX: ‘TIS THE DAMN SEASON [coming soon]

CHAPTER SEVEN: YOU’RE LOSING ME [coming soon]

CHAPTER EIGHT: DAYLIGHT [coming soon]

chapters with smut marked with *

[theflamecrystal]

July (E.M)

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

warning: toxic relationship, yelling, angst, breakup, eddie is a dick, eddie meltdown

summary: based off of the song ‘july’ by noah cyrus

word count: 1.1k

a/n: was in the mood to write some angst so here you go! this is kind of heavy so proceed with caution, also new theme anyone?

“I’m sorry Eddie! Just listen to me please” you plead as he continues to storm through the door of your shared apartment. He’s seeing red and your body is filled with anxiety, this is not how you imagined your birthday evening going.

“How am I supposed to listen to you when that’s all I’ve been doing this entire evening?! It’s like you didn’t even want me there” he cries as he cracks open another bottle of beer and slinks onto the couch. He had spent the better part of the evening making his usual jokes, often at your own expense and you tried to take it with a pinch of salt, but you were so tired of being the butt of the joke.

“I don’t know what you want me to say Eddie, all I’ve asked is that you stop making jokes about me like that-”

“No! what do you did was make me look like an asshole in front of your friends, I’m always the bad guy when you’re around them, even Chrissy see’s it!”

There it is. The entire fucking reason this conversation happened. Eddie was always bringing up Chrissy in your presence, how often could you hear the name of another girl leave your boyfriends mouth before you had enough? The answer? Right now.

“I’m so sick of you bringing up Chrissy whenever we argue Eddie! She is not your girlfriend! I am!” you cry shamelessly as you explode in front of him as he already looks completely over the conversation. You don’t have it in you to keep having these arguments.

“Why am I never enough for you?” your voice cracks and Eddie’s indifferent expression fades when he realises this isn’t your usual arguments, not once have you ever questioned his love for you and his heart drops to his stomach as he realises this just may be your breaking point.

“Wait, wait hold on sweetheart-”

“I don’t think I can do this anymore Eddie” you sniffle, and your hands shake as you wipe your tears. Eddie shakes his head vehemently and tries to reach out for you, but you step away from him. He’s sick to his fucking stomach. He spent most of the argument angry, so sure of himself that you were in the wrong but as of right now, he’s not so sure.

“Let’s just talk this through o-okay? Please let’s just have a conversation” he pleads as he anxiously begs you to listen to pathetic reasons before you decide to walk out on him.

“I can’t Eddie, not when I’ve spent the last 3 months lying in bed alone as you throw back beers watching tv with Chrissy on the phone.” You tell him and watch as his expression turns fearful at your impassive yet pitiful gaze at his trembling form.

 “I waited for you” your voice cracks alongside Eddie’s heart. “I waited for you to climb into bed, tell me you love me, that I was enough for you, and you never did” tears roll silently down your face and Eddie looks close to bawling.

His eyes fill with his own tears at the reality of losing you,, he’s blocked out the noise surrounding him as he purely focuses  on your fragile form, your makeup is smeared and your hands are shaking, he remembers how he used to hold you, be your sense of comfort when the anxiety took over and now he’s become the sole perpetuator of the same monster’s  he swore he’d protect you from.

“Please baby- please just let me fix this okay? Let me fix us!” he probably  looks pathetic on his knees as he tries to pull you into him, you resist but his shaking and sobbing form is enough to let you relent and place your hand on his head as you turn your face to the ceiling, willing the tears to stop.

“Do you remember what you told me when you saw Chrissy at the bar last week?” you whisper quietly to Eddie’s shaking form, he sniffles and shakes his head, looking up to you with red rimmed eyes.

“I asked to leave because I felt uncomfortable and you told me to go, said you’d meet me at home” you chuckle bitterly. Every single comment Eddie had made to you in the last 3 months almost came bubbling out of you, yet you refrained.

“I’ve had my bags packed since then” you confess to him and watch as his face drops, knowing you’ve spent the last week planning on leaving him. “I needed you to tell me to leave, I would’ve stayed if you didn’t say that, and we would’ve carried on being miserable.”

Eddie shakes his head, that’s not true, you two weren’t miserable, right? Sure, you fought but all couples did that, it was normal! At least Eddie thought so, you didn’t really mean that he made you miserable, any minute now you’d hug him and tell him you were overreacting and he’d hug you so tight you’d do that little squeal-giggle you do, then he’d take you to your shared bedroom where he’d lay you down and tell you how much you meant to him, how much he needed you. He would love you right, he promises to make all that true as soon as this is over.

However, that doesn’t happen, in fact, you let go of him with a sad smile and make your way to the bedroom only to return seconds later with two packed duffle bags. Eddie’s ears ring as he tries to shake himself out of his anxious stance. Do something! Say something! Anything! You can’t let her leave like this! His mind screams at him, he stays still.

Watching as you make your way to him and kiss his forehead, he sucks in a sharp breath when he realises this is goodbye. “I truly hope you find someone that loves you better than I did” you whisper, and he winces. Nobody would ever be able to love him the way you did, unconditionally, even when he fucked up, you loved him until he took your love for granted.

Somehow through all of this, you hold no animosity to Eddie, you feel at peace for once as you walk to your car. Finally leaving behind the jail you found yourself in, it feels freeing, and you can’t help but let out a hysterical giggle.

However, upstairs on the couch of your once shared apartment, Eddie lays shaking and crying on the floor, holding your pillow to his chest, chanting continuously “wake up, it's just a dream, she’s coming back. Wake up, it's just a dream, she’s coming back.”

[theflamecrystal]

Goth Boss Series

Pairing: Tony Stark x daughter! reader

The Avengers find out that Tony has a secret teenage daughter and make Tony ask her to visit. But the avengers discover why she was kept secret when they meet her. ( could bucky and Steve be terrified of how y/n looks, since they are from a different time and seeing a goth girl for the first time, scares them) (tony has a strained relationship with y/n as she grew up without him, and he kept her secret)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

Ongoing

[theflamecrystal]

ordinary, corrupt human love. | chapter 2: you get me closer to god.

Summary: John is a manipulator, and she, is the new subject of his obsession.

Warnings: this chapter contains stalking, mentions of large age gap, graphic descriptions of violence, and manipulation.

read the warnings. john is not only a menace, he is evilllll.

Author’s note: and we are back, baby. today, in this chapter, you are going to be witnessing a LOT of fucked up shit from none other than john wick himself. my man’s been doing a lot, god bless his poor soul.

also may i remind you all that the reader here is naive! she is stupid! she is not the brightest! she’s just desperate for attention and affection, so her decisions are always stupid and all of that. (please do not hate her, she is trying her best.)

this took me a while to write because it’s long asf and also because you know me, i always struggle with the english language, but i hope i won’t disappoint you with this chapter!

thank you so much for waiting and continuing to support this fic! really, it gives me a lot of motivation to keep writing, and i really appreciate all your sweet comments and reblogs on my last post.

i hope you also enjoy this new chapter since we’re going to have another peak of what goes on in john’s dark, dark mind. (I PROMISE THE SEX SCENE WOULD BE IN THE NEXT CHAPTER.)

and again, this is not edited so all mistakes are on me! i really do apologize, english is not my first language.

Word count: 10.6k

also read on AO3

In this business, you’d see different kinds of reactions when a man walks into a room.

They all see themselves above everybody else. They think they’re better, deadlier, smarter. That’s the kind of mindset you need if you want to survive. How will you get out of being held at gunpoint when you’re a weakling?

When a man walks into a room, they’ll take a moment to stare.

On the outside, you’d think these people have a lot of respect for one another since they all work in the same circle anyway. But in real life, you’d see the blatant lack of respect these people truly have for each other, because they’ll stare and judge.

When John walks into a room, it’s a different story.

Fear.

John is not like any other man in business they think they could just judge and get away with it, no. John is well respected and feared. He could see it in their eyes when he pass by. The extreme discomfort and alarm to be in the same presence as him. Even if they try so hard to hide it, John sees right through them.

They view him as… something but human. He’s a killing machine. An attack dog. A monster, some would even say. 

Back in the days, John wasn’t exactly fond of the names they’ve been giving him. When he was still new in the game, he didn’t like how he struck fear over these people because he wasn’t quite sure how to handle the power he truly has over them.

But now, something has shifted.

John is a free man. Not the kind of free when he was with Helen, but free nonetheless. Free because instead of getting alarmed with the fact that he’s feared all over this underworld, he’s taking advantage of it. Much to the higher ups dismay. They have been having a very hard time keeping up with his recent activities.

Growing up, it seemed like John got the worst sadistic discipline in Ruska Roma.

All of them did, don’t get him wrong. All of them suffered – blood, sweat and tears. They were all forced to go through extreme discipline, because it’s the crack of the whip that gets the rats going.

But John… John got the worst of it.

He used to take the fall for his fellow students. Fingers couldn’t count just how many times he was belted on the back for someone else’s mistake. The amount of times he was starved, denied of any kind of food or water, and that’s how it’s always been.

John has always been denied for the things he wanted. The things he needed.

Now, he is not greedy. He’s not just going to take everything in his way like a kid that got away from its parents’ grip, because he doesn’t want a lot of things. John already has a house, a dog companion, enough money to last forever.

John already has everything except her.

His most happy moments couldn’t compete with the hot curl within his guts that he feels every time his mind flashes back to that night. That night when she gave in, when she gave herself away to him – willingly. 

John didn’t need to give her a little push to finally get her. She practically offered herself to him, bared her neck and John’s itching to take a bite. To finally make her his once and for all, but really, he doesn’t need to do that to know that she’s his. 

Like he said, he’s not going to force himself into her life. He’s going to be welcomed. By the looks of it, it seems like it wouldn’t be such a hard thing to do after all. Not when she’s already giving up information about herself to John through texts – she’s practically making it easy for him to get her.

So naive. Doesn’t got a fucking clue in the world.

Mine. Mine. Mine. Fucking mine –

John looks at his phone, reading the messages both of them sent each other the night before, and there it is again. The itch in his hands, the need to possess.

13.06.15 11:46 PM

Bambi: hello! this is Y/N from the club the other night

13.06.15 11:46 PM

Bambi: also that Y/N who returned your super expensive looking coin hehe ;) i hope you didn’t forget about me!

John changed her name on his phone. He changed it to something more… intimate. More sweet. 

13.06.15 11:48 PM

John : I could never.

13.06.15 11:48 PM

John : You’re hard to forget.

He remembers – no, saw – how she responded. With a smile on her face, hopeful.

13.06.15 11:49 PM

Bambi : using my words against me, i see :D 

13.06.15 11:49 PM

Bambi : good to know you’re still as slick as the last time we chatted haha

13.06.15 11:49 PM

John : Hard not to. I wanted to impress you.

13.06.15 11:50 PM

Bambi : you already did.

13.06.15 11:50 PM

Bambi : with all your brooding and intimidating look. just my type ;D 

John smiles to himself as he reads the message. He remembers the look on her face when she’s typing, and hasn't got a clue that the man she’s flirting with was observing her just from across her building. John wouldn’t call it invading her privacy, he calls it keeping her safe.

13.06.15 11:50 PM

Bambi : anywho i asked for your number for a reason. i really do want to talk to you again. not just in chat, i mean, but also in real life :) 

13.06.15 11:50 PM

Bambi : maybe we could get to know each other more? what do you say??? meet up again, but this time planned unlike our other previous meetups?? haha

He is not a teenager to be feeling this giddy over reading messages, but she truly brings out something shameful in him.

13.06.15 11:51 PM

John : I should be the one asking you that.

13.06.15 11:51 PM

Bambi : you were taking too looonggg :( 

13.06.15 11:51 PM

Bambi : so what do ya think?

13.06.15 11:52 PM

John : Of course I’ll go. I told you I’d make time for you, didn’t I?

13.06.15 11:52 PM

John : I’m a man of my word.

13.06.15 11:52 PM

Bambi : ok that’s great! i was so worried you wouldn’t say yes.

John had averted his eyes from the phone that night and onto the little lady across the building. She was rolling around on her bed, still dressed in her pink, fluffy robe and her hair was still wet. She looks like a puppy that John wanted to pet; stroke her hair and tell her she’s his good girl.

13.06.15 11:52 PM

John : When do you want to meet? 

13.06.15 11:53 PM

Bambi : aahhhhh let’s see

13.06.15 11:53 PM

Bambi : i have classes tomorrow morning BUTTT we can def meet up during lunch! i get out of school at like 12 and go to work at 3 :D

I know, John wanted to say. I’ve memorized your everyday schedule in the span of two days.

13.06.15 11:53 PM

John : How about I pick you up from your school, we grab lunch, and I drop you off to work?

13.06.15 11:53 PM

John : Or is it too soon? 

13.06.15 11:53 PM

Bambi : oh my god no way REALLY?

13.06.15 11:53 PM

Bambi : nooo it’s not too soon don’t worry! you def could so we have more time to talk and everything! i just hope i won’t be bothering you or anything.

13.06.15 11:53 PM

Bambi : do you have work tomorrow? you look like a 9 to 5 kinda guy :P 

God, she’s fucking adorable. 

13.06.15 11:54 PM

John : I don’t, so you don’t have to worry. I’d love to talk to you more as well.

13.06.15 11:54 PM

Bambi : ok! i cannot wait for tomorrow. i should probably sleep now tho so i wouldn’t look shitty when you see me :D 

13.06.15 11:54 PM

Bambi : here is the address of my school. [Address]

13.06.15 11:54 PM

Bambi : can’t wait to see you tomorrow, john! goodnight, see you soon! x

13.06.15 11:55 PM

John : Goodnight, sweet girl. Have a good sleep.

John hadn’t meant to type that. He felt his heart drop to his stomach, terrified that he somehow scared her away with the sudden affection. But then he saw her read his message, dropped her phone on the bed, and then rolled over again like a lap dog.

She’s too easy to tame, so gullible. John almost couldn’t believe how fast she folded, how desperate she really is. But then again, he could say the same about himself. Lonely and desperate, they were meant to be together. He likes to believe God had put them in this position because of fate, because he has a plan for every single one of us.

John’s never been the one to believe in Him, but he finds himself grasping to that very little delusion that keeps him from going insane.

*

11:55 AM, the students are already making their way out of their designated buildings. 

John is keeping his guard on high alert, eyes scanning the crowd to find her. He’s parked just across the school gate, leaning against his car as he checks the time on his wrist. He’s also holding his phone in the other, waiting for it to vibrate in case she drops a message.

He’s never felt this giddy before. Hands clammy and eyes searching frantically, excited because he’s finally getting to spend alone time with her, but also worried in fear of losing her in the crowd. John doesn’t like it when he doesn’t have the upper hand. When he doesn’t have control of the situation. When she’s not in his line of vision and could be doing god knows what without his supervision.

He checks his phone again. 11:58, where is she?

John knows at this time, she should be out and about already, waiting for a cab to her apartment. His fingers itch, hovering over the screen of his phone. He begins contemplating if he should send a message, but that would make him look demanding and clingy. He doesn’t want to leave that kind of impression on her, or otherwise he’d have no choice but to abduct her and keep her locked away if she thinks about running –

He blinks, sucking in deep breath. 

“Shit,” he whispers, looking up to the school gate again. This isn’t good. What the fuck was he even thinking? 

John tries not to think about it. Tries to convince himself that he is not as fucked up as his mind is making him out to be. He wouldn’t stoop that low, he’s not that cruel –

Are you not?

A certain someone appears in the crowd, standing outside the school gate, already spotting John and waving at him from across the road. Her face is bright, smiling wide. John never wanted to possess something so bad.

He waves back, all his dark thoughts suddenly gone, and everything is rainbows and sunshine. John watches as she crosses the road carefully, looking left and right, seeming small with the people around her. She looks like a lost puppy.

John wants to pet.

“John, hey!” she beams, running up to him to give him a hug which catches John off guard. She’s on her tiptoes just to wrap her arms around his broad shoulders, and John doesn’t want to make her upset for not immediately reacting with her affection, and so he puts his arm around her waist and bends down to place his chin on her shoulder. 

He fights the urge to bury his nose in her neck, then maybe sucks a few hickeys, leaving a bite mark to show that the big, bad wolf has already marked his mate.

She’s so fucking easy to get, John thinks.

When she pulls away from the hug, John tries not to look disappointed. Her cologne lingers in his nose. “Sorry. Force of habit.”

“You don’t ever need to say sorry for that,” John says, faux stern as he places a hand on her waist subtly. She looks like she doesn’t mind, that’s a good thing.

“Okay then,” she smiles politely. “Oh, and I’m sorry if I look like a mess. Just say the words and I would totally change to more appropriate clothes before we go somewhere.”

“You look beautiful,” John says smoothly, standing up straight. Even though she looks underdressed next to John who’s wearing a three-piece suit, she is still heart-wrenchingly beautiful. In fact, John likes the contrast.

“T-thanks.”

“Should we go?”

“Sure! I’m excited,” she giggles, the sound practically dancing in his ear. “I’m hungry. Where will we eat?”

“Hm, what do you like?” he asks.

“Dunno. Burger and milkshake.”

“Sounds unhealthy.”

“The only thing I can afford, unfortunately,” she jokes, though John doesn’t answer, only opening the car door for her. “We should eat in a diner. I know a good one! Also cheap, so you won’t have to worry about the price.”

“I never worry about the price, darling,” John murmurs, but still loud enough for her to hear as she gets inside the vehicle. He swiftly walks to the driver’s seat and starts the car, glancing at his little bambi who’s observing the interior intensely. “You like it?”

“It’s so cool. I’ve never been in a car like this.”

“You’re going to have a lot of firsts when you’re with me.”

As John starts driving, the girl beside him babbles. Not that he minds, of course. He listens and nods, so obsessed with her voice that he could listen to it forever. It’s amazing how John could easily hide the fact that he was just stalking her from across her apartment the night before in the back of his mind, like it never even happened. It’s amazing how he could act like he wasn’t just thinking about kidnapping her and locking her away from the public forever.

But then again, everything about his little bambi would make anyone risk it all for her.  It’s not just John. Anyone would do the same if they were in his shoes.

“How was school?” John asks, averting his eyes from the road for a moment to look at her.

“Eh, it was alright. Classes always drain me, no wonder I’m so hungry now,” she answers politely. One of the few things John noticed about her. How she doesn’t run out of things to say, how she can get the conversation going. “How about you? You going to work after our lunch? You’re dressed up for it.”

“I took the day off today,” he replies vaguely.

“What? Why?”

“I have a date with you.”

She seems to be shocked by John’s choice of words, but she’s more concerned with the fact that John took the day off for her. “Y-yeah, but you didn’t have to do that. We could just go on a date next time.”

“The sooner, the better,” he explains, feeling another surge of something hot into his veins. She agreed that this is a date. Just how fucking gullible can she get? “Work is no problem for me. I want to get to know you more.”

“O-okay. I wanna get to know you more too.”

When John catches a glimpse of her bright smile beaming at him, his hands tighten around the wheel and he steps on the gas harder.

*

John doesn’t like how his mind isn’t making him remember about Helen.

He should be remembering her. He should feel some kind of guilt for being in a restaurant with another woman, but he doesn’t. Every single day since she died, his mind would always make him think about her. But now, it’s like John completely forgot about her existence at all.

The wedding ring on his finger is long gone. Ever since his unhealthy obsession began, he thought that wearing that while doing something so sinful felt so wrong. Helen shouldn’t have to witness all the things he had done in the name of a girl he had only met once that time.

The diner isn’t packed with people. The sizzling of the burgers grilling on the pan and the chatters seem to drown out eventually when his little bambi starts talking.

John gives her a small smile, barely there, just to show her that he’s listening, all his attention is on her.

“Time seems to pass by so fast, huh? I remember when I bumped into you the first time, I really thought I wouldn’t see you again,” she starts the conversation with a bang, but thankfully John’s prepared for this type of talk.

“So you really wanted to see me then?” he smirks slightly.

“Yeah! You’re really good looking and it’s not always I see a guy as handsome as you in my apartment complex and my school,” she says bluntly, though John could see the faint blush on her cheeks when she mentions the word ‘good looking.’ “So of course I had to take my chance when I met you again at that club! God, you were my knight in shining armor. I would’ve been crushed to death if it wasn’t for you.”

“That’s why you should always be careful on the road. You’re small, everyone could look past you if you weren’t careful enough.”

She pouts, placing her chin on her hand as she stares lovingly at John. “You’re exaggerating. I’m not small. You’re just saying that because you’re too big. And I’m always careful on the road – it was only that time that I lost balance and almost fell.”

“Then it better not happen again,” John says sharply, leaning back against the cushioned seat as he stares back at her challengingly. “But there’s no need to worry for the next time. I won’t let that happen again.”

“Next time?” she teases. “So you want to see me again next time, then?”

“Have I not made it clear with my actions and words?” John shoots back, raising another eyebrow. She likes it when he’s being stern like this. All authoritative. She might not know it yet, but her body language speaks for itself. “Do you want to see me again?”

The little bambi smiles brightly, and It hurts. It hurts John to see that smile because she’s just like the sun. But no matter how much she shines, John would do anything just to touch. Just to possess. Just to break.

“Of course! I wouldn’t have gotten your number if I didn’t, right?”

“Good.”

It’s not like she could do much anyways if she says no. Nothing will ever stop John from seeing her again, no matter how bad the procedure would be.

The food then arrives and is served on the table, and John thinks he has never felt anything like this before.

His hands have never felt this itchy before. That desperate, longing feeling to just possess the very thing that’s placed right in front of you. Everything about her is just so captivating, staring up at John like he’s the one who hung the moon, so full of adoration and hope.

Seems like John isn’t the only desperate one between the two of them. He could see it in her eyes. She’s practically begging him to take care of her.

And really, he can’t blame her.

An absent mother and an alcoholic father. No wonder she’s seeking attention from a man like John. A man old enough to be her father – if not older than her own father. John would be more than willing to fulfill the role her father failed to be when she was young. He’d do anything to protect her, morals be damned.

She looks too good to be true sitting right in front of him and he didn’t think watching someone devour a burger twice as big as her face would be so endearing. The way she licks her lips, the way her eyes sparkle every time John would pay attention to the little things she’d absentmindedly insert in her stories. No one must’ve given her this kind of attention before. No one but John.

“Oh, before I forget!” She places a hand on John’s arm that’s perched on the table. A mere innocent touch, yet he can’t help but feel a little giddy on the inside. “We’ve been talking for like, an hour now, and I still haven’t asked what your job is. I’ve been really curious ever since you told me you took a day off just for this. Are you like the boss or something?”

Ah. Of course.

A question like this is inevitable, thank god John came prepared. 

“No,” he simply says. “I’m a book binder. I collect and restore books as both a hobby and job.”

“Wow,” she nods her head, now interested as she leans forward and closer to him. She smells so sweet, John feels like he’s snorting sugar. “I didn’t think book binding could earn you so much money. Considering you’re dressed pretty… comfortably. And you have a nice car.”

“It pays enough,” John replies. Sooner or later she’d find out what he really does for a living, and no doubt she’d be scared. John already has a plan of action for when that would happen, but for now, he’ll try to keep it a secret as long as he can. “Pays enough to let me spoil you in the future. In fact, I think I might just start spoiling you now.”

“You say that to every woman you meet?” She quirks an eyebrow, teasing. 

“Just for you. You’re special.”

John sees the way she immediately turns shy and nervous from the statement. It must’ve felt overwhelming, having someone so much older and with more experience to hit on her like that. But John would say it brings a whole different feeling in him, like ego-lifting of some sort, knowing he just might be the only man that treated her right in her life.

Does killing one of her guy friends and storing him in his basement means treating her right? Does stalking her and watching her sleep from across the building is a way to treat her right? Different story to be told for another day.

“I believe you,” she says, smiling. 

Of course you do.

John diverts her attention from him. “You’re a veterinary student and also part time in a veterinary clinic. What made you want to pursue it?”

“Uh, let’s see. I don’t really have like, a very logical reason for it. I just really love animals and I want them to be part of my job as well,” she shrugs. “As for the part time thing, one of my older friends works there and got me in to gain some experience. I don’t really do much, I help with the paperworks and watch how they do stuff around there.”

I know.

“Your unconditional love for animals is logical enough.”

“I know right. Best job in the world, I might add. I get to pet all kinds of different animals everyday, and mind you I’m not even a real doctor yet,” she giggles, then tilts her head in curiosity. “Do you have a pet, John?”

“I do. I have a dog,” he answers, taking a sip of his own milkshake. It’s sweet, it’s something he’s not used to, but it reminds him of her. “Unfortunately, I haven’t named her yet.”

She frowns. “Why not?”

“I don’t know how to. I’m not good with names,” John shrugs. This conversation with her alone just might be the longest conversation he’s ever shared with someone ever since Helen died. And even with his late wife, he wasn’t as talkative as this. “Maybe you could name her. She’s a large pitbull but surprisingly very gentle for her size.”

“Oh my god, John, I have to meet her!” She beams. “Maybe on our next date, don’t you think? Let’s bring her with us to the park, have a little picnic there or something.”

Next date.

She wants to go on another date with him and she is making this a lot easier for John.

His lips stretch into a rare smile, fingers twitching subtly around the glass as he stares right into her eyes. There’s no hidden intention behind them, just pure adoration with a twinge of hope. Probably hopes that John wants the same thing as her, but he wouldn’t let her know that she is in for a lot more than she bargained for.

“I can’t wait for our next one.”

*

John could still remember the little things that made him feel human. 

Back in the Marines, when he first killed somebody, he felt a tremendous amount of guilt and self-hating that he couldn’t sleep for a week. He’d have nightmares of it; of holding his gun up to somebody’s head and blowing it up with just one single movement. The residue of the flesh splattered all over his face, some of them even went to his mouth. His hands shaked but he didn’t let his crew see it. In their eyes, that wasn’t the first time he had done it.

When he was recruited by Viggo and his little minions, the guilt of killing people was still there, but barely. He used to wish he didn’t feel any guilt or remorse at all every time he pulled a trigger, but looking back at it now, he wishes he could just take it all back. It was only guilt that he felt most of his life, but it made John human.

Now, he doesn’t feel very human as he stands in the middle of an abattoir holding a machete with pints of blood pooling at his shoes.

Back then, he used to kill. Point, shoot, leave. A very short routine he told himself to stick with unless he wanted to get in trouble. But now, he is not only just killing. John is fucking slaughtering people.

His eyes land on the dead body hanging from the meat hook. Naked, gutted alive just a few moments ago. His stomach is sliced open with his own intestines wrapped around his neck, and it fucking stinks.

The raw stench of human blood mixing with the already reeking smell of the slaughtered pigs hanging just besides the one John had slaughtered himself. 

Really, John should feel even just a little amount of remorse or disgust. His client didn’t particularly gave him a specific order on how to fucking kill the target, John did it himself. He didn’t know what the fuck was he thinking when he was doing the wet work, all he knows is that he’s getting worse each day that passes.

The killing part took some time considering the man certainly put up a fight. He was smuggling drugs inside the pigs he was slaughtering. It works on people too, though it’s too risky. Dying with balloons of cocaine up your throat or ass isn’t exactly the way you’d want to die, nor the kind of state you want your body to be in.

John really didn’t mean to go this far, but all the pent up anger and frustration led him to do something so ugly. He feels like a ticking bomb. Every second a little part of humanity just starts fading away, who knows what would happen if all of it were gone. 

This is his first kill since his date with his bambi. That was five days ago. John decided to take another job while he’s waiting for her next decision. He doesn’t want to look clingy and creepy by constantly texting her every chance he gets, so he lets her do it in her own phase. Though, waiting for her texts sure did take a lot of rampant rage on John’s side. Lots of broken furniture and a creepy amount of hours watching her sleep from across the building. 

Just because John is letting her do her own thing for the meantime, doesn’t mean he gets to take his eyes off of her. It’s for the best. 

Their last conversation was yesterday. It was a pretty long conversation, but not long enough for John’s satisfaction. She left it off by saying she’s going to be busy studying for her test and cleaning her apartment, which John didn’t have the time to check if she was telling the truth since he was busy himself.

John is dying to see her again but he knows he’s gonna have to wait it out in the Continental. Or maybe if he’s feeling a little bit insane, he’d ditch having to rest and spend his time sitting on a dusty chair in the same dusty room he’s been staying in for awhile; the building across from her apartment. But until then he’ll have to see where time will take him.

His phone ringing in his jacket is what snaps him from his thoughts. Bringing a bloodied hand to get it, he almost couldn’t press the screen by the slippery liquid covering his fingers. John presses the phone to his ear, waiting for the person to speak.

“Hey, boss. How’s Russia treating you so far? Hopefully not great ‘cause I’ve got some news that will cheer you up.” The deep voice of Alex echoes in the abattoir. It must’ve slipped John’s mind that he had sent Alex again to tail her again while he’s out overseas.

He furrows his brows, curious. “How is she?”

“Hm, let’s see here. Your little pet has been up and about all day with her little friends after they’ve finally noticed the disappearance of that little shit we took care of a while back – speaking of which, how is he by the way?”

“Rotting. Dissolving in my basement,” John replies, hands tightening around the handle of the machete. So this is what she’s been doing and the reason why she hasn’t messaged him all day. “I say the fucker got what he deserved. He’s a creep who preys on women to rape, I’m just thankful we got him out of the way before he got to her.”

“Yeah, well. She doesn’t know that and I doubt she’d even stop looking for her creepy friend unless they’ve found him. What do you want me to do?”

“Give it a day or two. Wait for me to get back and I’ll take it from there.”

“Anything else?” John hears loud chattering in the background, he furrows his brows.

“Yeah. Where are you right now?”

“Uhh, keeping her in my sight like you told me to?” Alex sounds particularly sassy. John doesn’t know if he should be pleased or not. “She’s at a restaurant. I think she’s having a meeting with her other friends or something – she looks upset.”

“Upset because of her missing friend, I assume.”

“Probably. Have you talked to her at all today, boss? Pretty sure I have not yet seen her pick up her phone all day.”

“No,” John simply says. “But she will. I’m sure of it.”

“I see you’ve finally gotten her dependent on you now.”

“Not enough, apparently, since she’s gone a full day without talking to me.”

“Well, you’re definitely getting there,” Alex says under his breath. “I’m going now, boss. They’re leaving to god knows where.”

John doesn’t say anything else, only ending the call and pocketing back his phone. He looks around the area, the coppery smell of blood is stronger than before. He is the reason why it stinks in here, the reason why there’s so much blood and brutality. The body that hangs right in front of him is lifelessly staring with dead, cold eyes. John resists the urge to shove a balloon of fucking cocaine into his stomach, the same thing he’s been doing with these pigs, brutalize him more if that’s even possible, but he knows it wouldn’t help his already worsening mentality.

The thought of someone seeing this body and thinking about how fucked up the person who did this doesn’t concern him as much as it should. 

Instead, John turns his heels and walks away from the scene. 

*

Unsurprisingly, getting her to depend on John isn’t the hardest task to do.

It just might be the easiest.

The moment John arrives at the Continental, he takes his time to message his bambi. It’s only reasonable, he wouldn’t come out as a clingy creep since it’s been a full day since his last message, he has every right to know what and how she’s doing despite already getting enough pictures and updates from Alex.

He asks her how she’s been, waits for approximately ten minutes before he finally gets a reply. In those ten minutes, John takes his time scrolling through the pictures Alex had sent him. Pictures of her bundled up in large, colorful sweaters and wearing a frown on her pretty face. She looks rough, but she makes looking rough look good.

Bambi : hi, john :(( sorry i didn’t text you all day. was busy with something 

John : That’s alright, I understand. I’m just glad you replied. Did something come up? Was it about school?

Bambi : kind of. my friend from school is missing and we don’t know where he is. we’re worried because he hasn’t answered any of our calls for a week and his apartment is practically empty.

Reading that almost makes him resist an urge to sickly smile to himself. His fingers hover the screen, careful of what his next words might be. 

John : I’m sorry to hear that. Have you gotten any updates from the police? What did they say?

Bambi : nothing yet unfortunately. no one saw him the night he went missing :( 

John : I’m sure you’ll find him soon enough. I hope nothing extremely bad happened to your friend.

He sounds… manipulating. There aren’t any more words that could describe what John is doing to her. He doesn’t even know if he can still make up excuses to tell himself that everything is completely fine and normal.

The girl that he likes is currently sharing about the horrifying tragedy her ‘friend’ is facing, the horrifying tragedy being John’s fault, and he’s fucking lying about it. And what truly terrifies him the most is not about the fact that he’s manipulating her, he’s terrified because it feels normal and just… fine.

Normal, normal, normal–

Can John really win her over by going this path? If not, would it really matter?

He will still have the upper hand if this doesn’t end well. But then again, there’s a very small chance that it wouldn’t – if not none at all. John just needs to play his cards well and there wouldn’t be a problem. 

Bambi : thank you john. really hope that too. it doesn’t feel the same without him

John’s jaw ticks.

What do you mean it doesn’t feel the same without that fucker? I killed him for you! He was a creep who only wanted to fuck you and take you away from me and–

A dangerous feeling suddenly surge into his veins that he wants to put back together all the pieces of that fucker just to destroy it in his hands once again.

Maybe mutilating him and dissolving him in pure acid just isn’t enough. Maybe he deserved more. Maybe John should’ve took his fucking time torturing that little shit instead of killing him instantly.

John : And how are you? I hope you’re not too worried about this matter that you start to forget about taking care of yourself.

Bambi : i’m doing fine, but a bit sad bc of it. i also miss you and i wish u’re here so i wouldn’t be too sad

And just like that, it’s like all his resentment and rage just one minute prior vanished in a snap of a finger. A small smile makes its way to his face and a surge of ego soars into his chest. She has no idea she’s got a dangerous assassin wrapped around her finger and the consequences it’d bring her.

Bambi : are u still overseas? when will you be back?

John : Tomorrow, hopefully.

John : And I miss you too, sweetheart. I promise I’ll be back as soon as I finish work.

Bambi : can’t wait to see you. do u want me to pick u up at the airport? :D

John : Thank you, baby, but that won’t be necessary. I don’t want to keep you busy when you already have too much in your hands.

Bambi : mkay. but call me or text me when u arrive, ok?

John : Of course.

*

John is not stupid.

If he ever noticed a man following his every step, he didn’t once care or say a word.

It’s one of Winston’s men, obviously, following him around throughout his business in Russia up to boarding the same plane as him back to New York. Considering John had managed to catch on pretty quickly at the fact that Winston sent someone to trail him, this poor guy is not doing a particularly good job.

At first, John thought about taking care of the guy himself and bringing Winston a souvenir of his dog’s fingers or even one of his eyeballs, but decided that he is not that cruel.

He could be, but knowing he holds all the power over several people under The Table makes John wants to play the game a little longer and just fucking shiver in excitement.

Obviously Winston had noticed that John is up to no good. Not that it’s any of his business, he’s more likely just scared for his own life. He’s probably thinking it was a bad idea to bring John back into the game now that he’s living up to the horrors of his reputation and giving people exactly what they wanted.

When John first returned to the field, it was only to avenge his late wife and nothing more. But now that a bigger monster has grown within him over the course of his stay, he’s now also looking for the fuel to his fire.

And boy did he find it.

The fuel being in the form of a young woman who’s unaware of how much power she has over John. It’s only a matter of time before all hell breaks loose. 

*

10:56 PM.

“Hello.”

“Hello? John?”

“It’s me, darling. How are you?”

“Doing fine. Studying for my exam and all. Why are you calling at this hour, though?”

“Just wanted to let you know that I just arrived back in New York and see how you’re doing.”

“Oh, John, it’s so late. I was thinking earlier that you would arrive tomorrow morning or afternoon, you didn’t tell me you boarded a flight.”

“I wanted to be back as soon as possible and wanted to surprise you, but my flight got delayed so I only just arrived now.”

A soft laugh rings in his ear.

“You’re so cheeky. We can just meet up tomorrow if you’d like, go on a picnic at a park or something. I really, really wanna meet your dog.”

John hears a sigh, then the sound of paper rustling in the background. He counts – one, two, three – here it comes.

“I miss you, John.”

He pushes the curtain aside with two fingers, peering his eyes in the small opening as he watches the figure at the other side of the building. She’s sitting on her study desk in front of a laptop, freshly showered and wearing specs that John can’t help his heart to ache.

It’s been so long.

“I miss you too, sweetheart. Couldn’t stop thinking about you when I was away.”

“That’s very sweet. I hope you brought souvenirs for me, though, or otherwise I will be very sad.”

“How can I forget? I bought everything that reminded me of you when I was there.”

“Now you’re just spoiling me.” Another laugh, then John sees her getting up from the chair and laying on the bed. “I’m happy that I’d get to see you again tomorrow, John. Everything that’s been happening is just so… I don’t know. Stressful, I guess. From my friend missing and school work, I don’t even know where to start. I just wanna be with you again.”

The mention of her friend Jay ticks him the wrong way, but he can’t also help but notice the longing and desperation laced in her voice as she said the last part. John knows it wouldn’t be too hard for her to be dependent on him, he just didn’t expect it to be this easy. They’ve only met once in real life, but their constant texting and calling through the phone makes it up for it. 

“Don’t let yourself worry too much on matters that don’t concern you.”

Silence, then John watches her bite her nail anxiously. “What do you mean by that, John?”

He doesn’t particularly like the way his name just rolls off her tongue like that – like she’s his age, the same way Helen used to call him. He doesn’t want to be reminded of Helen when he’s with his little bambi, it just makes him feel even shittier with the situation. It sorta reminds John how much he truly changed when he lost Helen.

“Don’t worry about your friend too much. I know it’s hard that he’s missing, but don’t put him first before your own well being,” John advises, manipulation just dripping off his tongue like it’s the easiest thing in the world. He doubts she would notice, though. “I’m sure the police got it covered by now. I’m more worried about you.”

John could still see her expression through the window despite being far away. She’s thinking about it, letting herself get swayed by his lies and persuasion. She’s too easy, she just doesn’t know it herself, but John does. And he’s going to take advantage of it as much as he can. 

He counts again – one, two, three – and she’s dropping her hand to the bed and sighing softly. There she is.

“Okay. You’re probably right, I worry too much.”

John doesn’t reply but gives a silent hum that indicates he’s agreeing. He sees her taking off her glasses and putting it on the bedside table, suddenly the itch in his hands is back.

There’s a voice nagging at the back of his head and asking him just what the fuck is he doing, that he should stop this madness before it gets out of hand, but would that really make a difference? Even if John did stop, he’d still continue to live with the fact that he was a monster who stalked a young woman out of sheer obsession. He’d already got her dependent on him, he’d already laid out the plan on how this would turn out, why is he suddenly questioning now?

He had done stuff that was worse than manipulating. He didn’t feel a single drop of empathy when he was slaughtering people and shooting them in the head, but why does he feel guilty manipulating her?

“John? Did you already fall asleep on me?”

Soft voice snaps him out of his thoughts, then it’s followed by a soft giggle. John feels butterflies exploding in his stomach. 

“Sorry. I was just–”

“It’s okay, John, you can sleep. You’ve probably had a long day since you’ve been on a flight and everything. I’m going to sleep now too, we have a date tomorrow, remember? Don’t forget.” The faux strictness in her voice makes him smile, then he sees her smiling just as big through the window; giddy and excited. “Goodnight, John. It’s really nice talking to you again. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, darling. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She hangs up first, smiling to herself before putting the phone back to her nightstand. She settles on the bed comfortably, tucking herself into her blanket, unaware of the fact that there’s a monster lurking on the other building, watching her every move like a hawk.

He catches a glimpse of himself in the old mirror on the dusty wall, dressed in black and predatory, reminiscent of the devil himself. 

Might as well live up to the name.

*

John is aware of how dead he looks in people’s eyes. He barely smiles, he’s always dressed in black, and he always has trouble showing emotions through his face. He makes sure that he gives off that aura that shows how much he dislikes everyone in the fucking room. How much he just wants to pull out his gun and shoot every single one of them in the head.

John despises the way they look at him. Like they pity him for losing his wife, for getting dragged back to the life he had already left. Though, he can’t really blame them, really. He used to pity himself too, even now for letting himself get even worse, but he wouldn’t really call it pity. He doesn’t know what it is, but it’s not pity.

The next day is interesting, to say the least.

He couldn’t get a minute of sleep the night before, the image of her sleeping so peacefully without a worry in the world bored into his mind. It’s extremely fascinating to him just how careless and… dumb she is. Dumb in a way that it’s benifiting John – the both of them, actually – and not in an offensive kind of way.

It was around two in the morning when he returned back to the hotel, managed to sleep for an hour or two before ripping off the blankets and had a drink the first thing in the morning. John didn’t bother taking a nap after that, just walking around the room making sure all is well and everything will be according to plan.

At 8 AM, she texted John a good morning and said it would be better for their date to be at 4 PM. John then replied that it was perfect, though he doubts he can wait that long.

12 PM, for a man as calm and collected as John, he sure as hell can’t fucking sit still in one place.

He’s paranoid. No amount of texts from his bambi is enough to keep him calm. The time is ticking too slowly for his liking and he has no other things to do in his free time. Except be paranoid.

John grabs his coat, kisses his dog goodbye and decides to stop by a grocery store to prepare for their date. He should at least make them both a sandwich and buy drinks, knowing that the little gesture would be enough to put a smile on her face.

1 PM, John comes back with shit ton of paper bags in his arms. He’s doing too much, he knows it, but too much is still better than not enough.

John goes to the kitchen to prepare. The orphanage taught him how to cook – well, not really. John taught himself how to cook, because if he’s not going to cook for himself and half of the kids back in Ruska, they’d all be dead with no survival instincts to save them from starvation. Being an assassin who could withstand any form of torture all while not knowing how to cook would be the greatest joke of the century. John’s not the one to be laughed out.

2 PM, everything is settled and in place, his little bambi texts him to let him know that she’s getting ready and cannot wait for their date. John then takes his time to get ready too.

3 PM, John is dressed in a nice white t-shirt with a brown leather jacket on top. He looks civilised, no one would know a damn thing that he’s one of the most feared men in the underworld who slaughters people for a living.

His dog is quiet in the corner, chewing on her bone toy until John puts a collar and leash around her neck. Her eyes perks up in excitement, already knowing they would go outside to play. John always takes his time making sure she gets to socialize with other dogs, whether it’s in a park or just down the street.

“You’re excited, baby?” John murmurs, petting her ears softly as he kneels down to her position. “You’re gonna meet someone special. Want you to be nice to her, alright? She’s gonna be your mom.”

John hauls everything into his car in a matter of minutes. The picnic basket, the blanket, his gifts for his little one that he got from Russia, also including his dog. She’s behaved yet excited as she peeks in the mirror watching her owner work.

He slides into the driver’s seat and locks his seatbelt, starting up the car and driving away from the hotel. Earlier, John had seen a couple of his co-workers loading up his trunk dressed like he’s going on a date – because he is – no doubt they’re snitching and would tell Winston. He couldn’t care less.

He arrives outside her apartment after thirty minutes, parking his car right by the entrance. He can’t help but grimace as he looks around the place. He remembers meeting her here, the day after he killed that good-for-nothing junkie. He wonders if she ever got the news, how she reacted when someone got killed the same day John was visiting her area.

It won’t be long before she wouldn’t be living in this area no more. It’s too dangerous, filled with a bunch of goons who get themselves tangled up in petty gang wars. John knows a gangster when he sees one, and it looks like every single man who lives in these crowded apartments are either pushers or gangsters with no sense of direction in life.

She doesn’t belong here. She should be in John’s house, locked up and isolated where she’s safe under his supervision. He would treat her like a princess, give her the things she deserve.

John gets out of the car, pulls out his phone and sends her a message to let her know he’s outside her building. He leans against the car as he waits.

A minute passes and a very happy bambi appears in the elevator, dressed in a pretty sundress and a white tote bag with a text John can’t see. She’s beaming up at him as she exits the building, and John hasn’t got the time to react before she’s lunging herself forward and going on tiptoe to wrap her arms around his neck.

“Whoa easy,” John murmurs, immediately wrapping his arms around her waist for support, placing his face in the crook of her neck and inhaling her scent; it’s sweet, not a surprise. “You miss me that much?”

“So much, you don’t even wanna know,” she murmurs in his chest, not quite reaching his neck despite being on her tiptoes. “I hope you miss me just as much.”

John pulls away, gives her a look as he places her large hands on her hips. “I might’ve missed you more than you missed me.”

She giggles, John could see her eyes through the heart-shaped sunglasses she’s wearing. It’s cute. “That’s not possible, I will fight you for it.”

“Hm,” John hums, eyes wandering down her lips to her dress. It stops just above her knees, John has to mentally prepare himself for the worst. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she says sheepishly. “You like it? I think it’s the perfect picnic outfit.”

“I love it,” John clarifies. “Looks perfect on you.”

“You look gorgeous yourself,” she giggles, eyeing John up and down teasingly, catching her bottom lip between her teeth. He isn’t so sure how to react to that, hopefully his dick wouldn’t take the liberty to rise from the dead at this moment. “This is the first time I’ve seen you not wearing any suits. Domestic looks good on you.”

“What can I say, I’m a changed man.” John means both good and bad. “And before we go, I want to introduce you to someone.”

Before she gets a chance to ask, John slides out of the way from his position of covering the car window and reveals a very happy pitbull waiting to be introduced to her mother.

Her smile is wide when she spots John’s pet excitedly wagging her tail inside the car. “Oh my god, she is beautiful! John, open the door, hurry, hurry, hurry–”

“Okay, okay–”

The moment John pulls the door open, the dog comes rushing out to jump and starts licking her face.

“Oh, lookie here, baby! You’re such a cutie! What’s your name, hm? Don’t got a name yet? Your dad can’t think of a name to give ya’?” 

Her giggles are like music to his ears.

The sound of paws pattering on the concrete and her high pitched voice talking to the dog fills the empty street in a matter of seconds. When she isn’t looking, John begins looking around the area, his eyes landing on the apartment building where he preys at some nights. 

There’s a person at the front desk, staring at him like he knows something, and like a switch that goes off in his brain, John recognizes this man as the same one who bumped into him a few nights ago in the hallway in front of the abandoned room where he’s staying.

They meet eyes, John flashes him a knowing look, then the man immediately looks away.

John’s jaw ticks. He’s gonna have to deal with that later.

He turns his attention back to where it’s most needed. She’s still playing with the dog, crouching beside the car while the puppy just drowns in her affection. John really hates to break the moment.

“Shall we get going?” He interjects, voice deeper than usual, still feeling a little on the edge from that man by the front desk earlier.

“Sure. She gonna be in the backseat?”

“You bet.”

John opens the door for the both of them and lets her help the puppy get inside. Before he slams the door close, he makes sure to take another look at the apartment, seeing the man already staring back at him.

Yeah. He’s really gonna have to deal with that later.

*

They arrive at the park around 4:25 and John is the one to set up their spot while she and the puppy play in the empty field. It’s empty, totally empty, and John couldn’t be more thankful than that since he really doesn’t want to be around other people besides her. She’s the only one that matters.

John notices that she brought her own dog toys, probably the ones she keeps to herself since she does work in a vet clinic after all. The sight of her happily running around the grass with his dog is enough to bring him to his knees, he is only but a man.

John calls her to eat and the two of them come running towards him and plops down on the soft blanket next to the basket full of fruits.

“Had fun?” John speaks, sitting beside her on the ground as he watches her get a plate of pasta for the two of them. She insists she gets to plate their food, John lets her.

“Very. Didn’t know she’s quite energetic, luckily for her I can match her energy extremely well.”

“It comes with being young, I guess. Can’t really relate,” he jokes, receiving the plate full of pasta she gives him while she snickers at the statement.

“Come on, John. You’re still fit despite being old.” John watches her take a bite of the food. He’s not subtle, he’s straight up staring at her lips as she wraps her mouth around the fork, savoring the flavor with closed eyes. “Hm, this is delicious. Where did you learn to cook like this?”

“By myself,” he shrugs, taking a bite of his food to keep him from taking a bite of her instead. “I’m surprised you aren’t creeped out.”

“With what?”

“With my age,” John makes it clear. “You’re young with a bright future ahead of you–”

“Yet here I am having a date with an old man?” she interjects, wiggles her eyebrows, teasing clearly with the way she emphasizes the last part. “I can’t believe you thought I’m gonna get creeped out. You’re a grown man with a stable job and not to mention very hot, I find that very sexy.”

“You think I’m sexy?” he raises a brow.

“Yes, I think you’re very sexy. I haven’t once encountered a guy my age who has the same status as you,” she sets down the plate on her lap for a moment. “You know, experienced and mature.”

“I see,” John nods. It’s very clear that she’s always found the people who contrast her so well attractive. She wants a savior that would save her from everything, luckily John fits in the description quite too well. 

They delve in a normal conversation after that. John makes sure to steer away all questions regarding him and his life, a way to learn more about her other than the pictures and videos and information he’d been sent by Alex.

John already knows a lot about her, it wouldn’t hurt to learn a little more.

Ten minutes go by, a bottle of wine has been pulled out of the basket and she’s spilling her whole life to John in a matter of moments. From lttle memories from childhood to how she moved from her hometown to New York to get away from her father. How when she was younger, she begged her toys to talk to her and she wouldn’t tell anyone. How their family pet back in the days impacted the choices she made to choose her career path – to become a veterinarian.

John listens. He’s always been good at listening instead of talking, so he listens. 

5 PM, the two of them play with the dog and she decides to name her “Blue.”

“Is it because she has blue eyes?” John asks.

“Yeah. Not really original, I know, but it fits her.”

“Blue is perfect.”

It’s already 6 PM when they decide to head home. She’s still talking the moment they’re in the car and John is still listening. There’s something about her voice that just… pulls him in. It’s so sweet and soft.

When they arrive outside her apartment complex, it’s dead silent. 

“I really enjoyed our date today, John,” she smiles when he opens the door for her, now standing in front of him and looking up to meet his eyes. “The pasta was delicious. I hope I get to eat more of them in the future – and oh, I really, really enjoyed playing with Blue! I’m so thankful that you let me name her even though it wasn’t really special–”

“Hush,” John jokingly interrupts. “The night might be over, but I can assure you that I will see you soon again.”

“How soon would that be again?”

“Eager to see me already?”

“Maybe.”

“You know I always make time for you, sweetheart,” John croons, placing a large hand on her chin and staring deeply into her eyes. “Is it too early for me to kiss you?”

She laughs, then wraps her arms around his waist to pull him in closer. John looks at her and falls in love for what to be a millionth time today. She never fails to take his breath away. “Not too early, I promise you. You should’ve done that sooner.”

“Well, I’m gonna do it now.”

Before she can add another word, John leans down to smash his lips against hers, his large hand finding its way on the small of her back to deepen the kiss that she can’t help but whimper into his mouth.

Fuck.

Her lips are so, so soft. John can still taste the lingering sweetness of the wine from earlier and being so close to her that her scent is shutting off his entire brain. If he won’t stop, he might just end up fucking her on the hood of his car until she can’t walk straight.

Their lips move in tandem and she’s following his head like she always does. Her small hands are gripping his leather jacket for support, so pliant and vulnerable, already trusting him enough to kiss him on their second date. 

This is a sudden shift in his universe, John knows he’s already won.

He’s the first to pull away and their lips are wet and connected with saliva. She’s flushed and out of breath like expected, John wants nothing more but to break her and make her his.

Oh wait, she already is.

“How was that?” John asks, voice deep.

“I wanna do it again.”

He chuckles, rubbing his thumb on her cheeks while she’s busy avoiding his eyes. “Let’s save it for next time.”

He’s gonna control himself.

“That next time better come by fast,” she threatens jokingly. “I’m gonna miss you.”

“Don’t talk like you’re not gonna see me for days, baby,” John whispers. “You know I won’t let you go that easily. You’re mine now.”

He doesn’t miss the way her pupils dilated and the way the clutch she has on his leather jackets becomes tighter. She’s already fallen deep into his trap, John wants to push his claws in even deeper.

“Say it again,” she mutters, leaning in against his warm large hand as she closes her eyes. “Say it again. Please.”

John smiles when she isn’t looking. He really won.

“You’re mine.”

*

That same night, 4 AM, John is back in his work clothes and arranging something in a dark room.

The stench of metallic blood hitting his nose, and he stands in the middle of the room to inhale that scent – god, does he truly miss it.

The sight of a man in front of him wakes something dangerous within John’s veins. Hands tied up behind the chair, head dropped forward, lifeless and cold. His lower stomach is open, guts hanging off the floor as the other half is used to gag him in the mouth. His eyes are missing, John took the liberty to take them out for staring at him too much, and he couldn’t be any more relieved when he did.

“What do you know?” John had asked as soon as the man woke up from his head concussion.

“Y-You!” The man had yelled, John didn’t bother finding out his name. “You fucking creep –”

John’s hands twitched beside him. He remained silent.

The man went on a rant about how he’d seen John around lurking outside the apartment complex and using the abandoned room on the fifth floor and that’s all John needed to know.

He didn’t need another pair of eyes to tell him what’s right and wrong. Winston is already enough.

The next morning, John receives a text from none other than his bambi. A picture of numerous police cars outside her apartment and an ambulance, and another picture of a dead body covered in white blanket getting pulled out of the building.

Bambi : there was an accident that happened near me, john :(( 

Bambi : the police said somebody was killed and i’m scared

Bambi : they said he was gutted alive 

John is smiling to himself when he types his response.

John : What kind of a sick person would do something like that?

He is not a sick person. He’s just in love.

Taglist: aerangi starrgir1 heluvsvalefr danika1994 fraisejoon doggodorime ohmytate

[theflamecrystal]

Famous daddy series master-list

okay hiii so ik you must be tired of writing angsty stuff but i feel like this is a good idea💀anyway so 39, 17 and 21 for the angst prompts and 19 and 16 fluff prompts pls (so like angst with a happy ending) where eddie starts going out with reader because their dad or brother or whoever owns some record label but he actually ends up falling in love with them and ends up getting famous after this but reader finds out why he started to talk to her in the first place and yk bam angst

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Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

@lolz-0110 @gaysludge @hmcmlfcyy @omgvirtualcupcakecollection-blog @bibieddiesgf @holyheadharpies99 @bakugouswh0r3 @cloudroomblog @emma77645 @ali-r3n

tags

[theflamecrystal]

and people say women don’t have hobbies 🙄

[theflamecrystal]

Perfume.

Main masterlist

Part 2

Summary : your husband Eddie buys you perfume.

Warnings whole lot of ANGST!

Author's notes: look I'm telling you to back away right now if you don't want to get your feeling hurt 🫣

Im warning you!!

.

.

Eddie came home from work with a gift for you. you got all excited because he rarely buys you anything. You kiss him all over his face thanking your sweet husband for your gift.

"well open it babe." Eddie said to you wrapping his arms around your body .

"purfume?" You asked looking back at Eddie.

"yeah its the newest scent ,I know how much you like to collect perfumes." He said moving your hair away from your neck as he leaves little pecks of kisses on you.

"aww Eddie you didn't have to do that, but thank you baby that means a lot."

" Hey, your my wife I should be allowed to buy you things"he joked taking your face into his hands as he caressed your cheek

"But you gotta promise me one thing." He said he said kissing the tip of your nose.

"And what's that?"

"I want you to wear this perfume every single day ,you got it?"

You giggle at Eddie request." For you, I'll do anything.

You did as you were told, you used the purfume everyday and it just seemed to put a smile on Eddies face.

You were getting ready for bed as you could hear Eddie turning on the shower faucet, you decided to continue reading your book from where you left off on.

Eddies phone goes off .

Multiple times.

You reach over to eddie side grabbing his phone as you used your fingerprint he didn't know you had to unlock his phone.

His phone goes off again showing a text message from one of his co-workers, you giggle at the little memes him and Eddie sent back an forth to each other. You get out of conversation taking you back to his main contacts.

Your eyes caught a women name. Amelia?

You didn't know an Amelia.

You let you curiosity got the best of you as you tap on their messages. Their was only one message from Eddie To Amelia that was sent 35 minutes minutes ago.

Hey baby I forgot to tell you,but I brought the same perfume as yours for my wife so she could smell just like you. I miss you so fucken much,I can't wait to see you Friday♥️.

[theflamecrystal]

To Being Mrs.Barber | Prologue

Summary: Being with someone isn’t always easy. Some people don’t know nothing about dating and being married. Sometimes being all about image and being in the public is a whole different situation but what happens when being involved with the mafia king and eligible bachelor Andy Barber become your new everyday life

Pairing: Mafia! Andy Barber x Female Reader

Warnings: mention of divorce, slight angst, a few cursed words

Author note: This was supposed to be a one shot in the beginning when I posted this but I end up love writing this into a full series. I decided to rewrite this series and make it something a bit different. The edit in the banner of Andy tattoo is by @randomagnes0210​. Hope you like it and enjoy reading!

Prologue

The bottle of red wine dropped to the floor as Andy presented you with divorce paper. You didn’t realize the bottle slipped from your hand and shattered onto the floor.

This was it

You grab the broom from the supply closet and begin to clean the shattered glass with the broom. “I um–” Andy cleared his throat as his eyes were on you. “I signed it already.” You put the shatter glass in the garbage can and then put the broom with the dust pan back to where it was.

You walked over to the diner table and sat down taking the paper from him. You read the paper and saw his signature on it.

Continua a leggere

[theflamecrystal]

Cold

Warnings ! ~ Angst (a lot tee bee hach) | Possible grammatical errors |But there is comfort at the end and more to come

Steve x Eddie x Reader

y/n used briefly

Request Something ! {} Masterlist !

You couldn't have been happier in your relationship with Eddie and Steve.

They were so sweet and caring, always knowing when you were having a bad day, not to mention the sex was amazing.

But as of late you couldn't help but have a slight change of heart. Because the boys, your boys, have been hanging out a little bit too much with Chrissy Cunningham.

It was infuriating really.

Every 'Stevie can we go out today?' was met with a 'Gotta take a raincheck hun, Chrissy wants to go see a movie'

Or

'Eddie? Do you think you could come home? You haven't been home all day' was met with 'Sorry sweetheart, Chrissy isn't doing too well.'

This has been going on the last three months, you had no idea why you were still around at this point. And no, you haven't been fucked in three months.

And yes, you did have suspicions of your boys fucking Chrissy but you soon found out that Eddie and Steve were too busy fucking each other.

You had spoken to Robin and Nancy about it, about moving out of your shared apartment slowly.

And slowly you moved into their apartment, and you noticed that as you moved out, it seemed like Chrissy was moving in.

Most nights you cried in the cold sheets of your large bed. A bed meant for three people.

You blew a piece of hair out of your face as you dumped the final moving box into Nancy's car. Trying to supress the tears that had built up over the past hour.

The past hour of you packing things into a box without Eddie and Steve noticing because they were too busy watching a movie with Chrissy.

Your body shook with a sob as Robin rubbed your back soothingly, helping you into the car.

You were thankful that Robin and Nancy had a two bedroom apartment, so that you did have a bed to sleep in, rather than a couch.

And as you lay in that bed, you couldn't help but curl in yourself, crying because you knew that the boys wouldn't notice you're gone for at least a couple days.

Chrissy fucking Cunningham, with her bouncy blonde hair, strands falling effortlessly but in a perfect way. She always had a smile on her face, her cute personality making you want to vomit.

You woke up the next morning, going into the bathroom, feeling bad as Nancy and Robin glanced at you pitifully, clearly having heard you crying last night. And you tried your best to rub away the dark and puffy circles under your eyes, but to no avail.

'Swear, that dingus isn't my dingus anymore' Robin said, shoveling cereal into her mouth.

'I cannot believe them, they're head over heels with you and then they don't notice your moving out? AND they haven't even called?' Nancy added, stirring her coffee a bit more aggressively than usual.

You prodded at your cereal, agreeing with them before Nancy continued.

'I think I'm just gonna go back to bed, thanks for breakfast Nance' you smiled softly before retreating back into the dark room, being once again enveloped in a numbing cold.

Robin was at the local grocery, picking up a few things, groceries of course but also some snacks and treats for you to hopefully make you feel better.

Robin mumbled to herself, trying to read Nancy's cursive, she turned a corner, shopping trolley making an awful squeak.

She looked around for something that looked like 'tovato suuce' and saw three people she really didn't want to see right now, knowing her temper would get the best of her.

The fucking trolley wouldn't move, Robin always had to get the trolley with the broken wheel.

'Robin!' shit.

Robin pretended she didn't hear Steve's voice, trying to find what she had figured out to be tomato sauce.

'Rob' Steve said, clearly closer.

Brave face.

Robin turned around to see Steve, Chrissy and Eddie, as said, three people she really didn't want to see. Especially when Chrissy was wrapped around Eddie's arm giggling at something he said.

'Jesus, looks like you're going through a breakup' Steve chuckled looking at Robins trolley, currently filled with chocolate, chips, and ice cream.

'Oh my God' Robin gawked. Steve seriously was dumb.

'What?' Steve asked

'You know what, nothing. Just know, you and Eddie are real fucking assholes' Robin said, finally pushing the trolley away, ignoring the protests of Steve and Eddie.

Nancy knew the look on Robin's face. She'd seen it during their arguments, she winced slightly when Robin shut the door a bit too hard.

'Are you okay?' Nancy asked delicately.

'Saw the fucking assholes at the grocery store, and Chrissy was with them! Clinging onto Eddie like she was his girlfriend' Robin seethed.

Nancy had never seen Robin so mad, her face red, breathing heavy.

'Alright, it's okay, they'll realise their mistake soon. Trust me' Nancy comforted, Robin nodded her head slightly, feeling horrible for you.

It was three days until they got a call from Steve.

Robin had picked it up at first, before promptly slamming it back into the receiver. To which Nancy ushered her out the kitchen, knowing Steve would call back.

'Nancy! We can't find Y/n! She's missing! Oh my God! Eddie's freaking out, I'm freaking out, have you seen her?' Steve shouts into the phone.

'She's with us. She's fine' Nancy responded simply.

'Oh thank God! We'll be there soon'

'No Steve, you won't. You aren't coming near her' Nancy said, the rage she felt starting to bubble, only calming slightly when Robin rubbed her neck.

'What? Why? We have to bring her home!'

'Fuck me Steve, if you really paid any fucking attention you would realise that your apartment isn't her home anymore. She's been living here nearly a week and only now you're realising. God she was moving her stuff out of your apartment for weeks! Weeks Steve! And neither of you two noticed' Nancy grumbled.

'Nance I-'

'Goodbye Steve' and the line cut, Robin putting it back into the receiver, rubbing Nancy's shoulders.

You hadn't left the room. Only eating every once in a while. Your sobs being heard from the living room and kitchen.

It was a day later the boys showed up at the apartment.

Frantic knocking could be heard on the door, Robin answered it, thinking it was one of the kids, before promptly slamming it shut. It was only recently that Nancy realised how much Robin loved to slam things.

Nancy ushered Robin once again out of the way, opening the door, faced with a red eyed Steve and Eddie.

'Can I help you?' Nancy asked

'We need to see her' Steve said, it was pathetic the way his voice cracked mid sentence. Nancy full well believed that Steve had no right to be as upset as he seemed.

'Sorry, she's not here right now' Robin intercepted.

'Come on Robs, we can hear her crying' Eddie said.

The girls rolled their eyes, and Nancy pointed at the boys.

'You say anything wrong, do anything wrong, even look at her wrong, you two are out of the here' she warned, and the two nodded, before rushing into the apartment and into your bedroom.

Your body jolted when the bedroom door burst open.

'Oh sweetheart' Eddie said softly.

All the sadness quickly escaped your body, being replaced with white hot anger.

'Don't you dare sweetheart me'

'Come on honey, we're sorry for whatever we did' Steve mumbled, moving closer to you, to which you shuffled against the headboard of the bed.

'For whatever you did? So you two don't even know what you did?' you asked. Unbelievable.

'Just tell us what we did wrong so we can fix it' Eddie offered.

'Oh my fucking God you two are such assholes! For the past three months it's been Chrissy this Chrissy that. You two haven't touched me sexually in three months, too all over each other probably thinking about Chrissy' you scoffed.

'Hey, that's not fair-'

'Oh it's not fair Steve? You know what's not fair? Being sick and having neither of your boyfriends notice because their new friend was having boy troubles. You know what's not fair? finding her stupid scrunchies everywhere. A constant reminder of the fact that she's always around'

You could see the look on Eddie's face, he was getting more frustrated by the second. Unbeknownst to you, he was mad at himself and Steve. He felt like a total fuckwit, he was infuriated with himself and Steve. mentally punching himself.

'Yeah? Well maybe if you actually put a smile on once in a while, we wouldn't be with Chrissy so much. You would wake up, go to work, come home, me and Eddie would try and cheer you up but oh no, you just had to be in a shit mood all the time' Steve seethed.

'Fuck you Steve'

'She's probably a better fuck than you anyway'

'Alright that's fucking enough. Get out' Nancy said, walking in.

You stared at the disbelief on Steve's face, and the hurt on Eddie's.

'This is between us and her-' Steve tried to interject

'No, out. Get the fuck out' Robin said.

Steve scoffed and walked out of the room. Eddie following close behind, but Robin and Nancy saw the hesitance, but also the look of pure anger.

'Who does she think she-' Steve was cut off by a left hook to the cheek.

'What the fuck is your problem?' Eddie growled.

'You know how shitty I feel? I feel horrible for making her feel like that. She's the love of my life, and you are too Steve. But you aren't going to be if you keep up this shitty attitude' Eddie continued, staring down at Steve on the floor.

'God we are such cunts' Eddie huffed. Dragging a hand down his face.

Steve was about to say something, before seeing the look Eddie gave him. It was nothing he had ever seen before, something that struck a lightening of fear throughout his entire body. So instead he scrambled off the floor and left the apartment. Leaving Eddie breathing heavily.

Eddie calmed himself down, feeling the piercing glare that Nancy and Robin were giving him, unaware that you had opened the bedroom door slightly and were watching him.

He walked over to the kitchen, grabbing the phone and dialling Chrissy's number.

'Hello?' you heard her sickeningly sweet voice say.

The apartment was dead silent.

'Chrissy. It's Eddie'

'Oh Eddie! Hi! Are you still coming over later with Steve?'

'I don't know what Steve's doing, but I'm not coming. In fact I'm not going to be talking with you again, it's really affecting my relationship and I put my partners above anything else. So, we can't be friends anymore. And I'm not sorry.'

'What? Eddie! No wait!'

And the line went dead.

You watched as Eddie composed himself, Robin staring at him rather than glaring. Seeming somewhat happy with what he did.

You shut the door carefully, crawling back underneath the covers, feeling a small bit of joy crawl back into you, knowing Eddie still cared.

The bedroom door creaked open slowly, and you heard the familiar thumping of Eddie's boots, and then the mattress dip.

'Sweetheart I know how upset you are, I'm so fucking sorry. I don't agree with what Steve said at all. I just, I just love you so much and I don't know why I was such an asshole, and I know that's not an excuse, trust me. And I don't know if you heard but I kinda punched Steve, I'm sure he didn't mean it honey, you know he talks before he thinks, just like his asshole dad. And I'm not excusing him either-shit this is not coming out how i wanted'

'I forgive you' you mumble

'really?'

'Well telling Steve and Chrissy off is a start'

'I don't know what's wrong with him' Eddie mumbled

'Me either, but I think I'll find forgiving you a lot easier'

You rolled over and really noticed how disheveled Eddie looked.

'Eddie?'

'Yeah sweetheart?'

'When-when did you realise I was gone?'

'Soon as I heard that door close, I knew if I tried to go after you that it would make things worse, so I let you be for a while before basically yelling at Steve after running into Robin at the grocery store'

'You seem to be doing that a lot lately-yelling at Steve'

You watched him smile, a breathy chuckle escaping his chest.

'Robin-Robin said that Chrissy was holding your arm and laughing at something you said'

'Yeah, she thought I was joking when I told her to let go of my arm'

'Oh'

'Yeah, I'm really sorry sweetheart'

'I know, can tell by your hair' you smiled into the pillow

'Oh! You wound me! Not the hair!' Eddie pretends to be shot in the heart, falling back and into you.

You laugh at his antics and shove him under the blanket with you.

'You owe me hugs Munson, I haven't slept properly in nearly a week'

Eddie smiled, trying to ignore the pang of guilt that flooded him.

You felt his arms wrap around you and smiled into the pillow, faintly hearing Nancy yelling at somebody before falling into a deep sleep

Part 2 !

Oh boy Bozos have I had a rough day, as in I didn't have a rough day I just forgor to take medication and couldn't figure out why i didn't feel right!

Steve being a cunt instead of serving cunt </3

btw guys I love Chrissy's character, I just made her bitchy because I have the power to do that ig

cough its coming out later tonight aka 9th of april aka 8th for yall americanos

ANYWAY PART TWO SOON TEEHEE IM GONNA GO SLEEP !