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syoddeye · 3 days

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consequence / snowball

price x f!reader | 2k words series directory | ao3 tags: exes, angst, cheating, references to depression. a/n: good things come to those who wait. ☕

it’s strange to think there’s a man in the living room.

by invitation. you’d extend it further and lure him down the hall to your room, but he might not appreciate it, considering you shit the bed by crying like an infant in front of him.

it’s the beer and ben. you should’ve arranged for delivery or left his things on the street. would’ve been less personal that way, safer, but you had to know—if you’d feel anything, if he’d ooze regret. you came out two for two, slapped with clarity. not only was ben unrepentant, he was happy. happier without you.

you gaze at the hyacinths above your bed. they remind you of john’s eyes. soothing.

~~~~

there’s a weight on john’s chest when he wakes.

cece purrs contentedly. she butts into his chin as he stretches, one hand stalling her advance to his face and the other scrubbing over his eyes. he tucks her to his chest as he stands and scratches under her chin while staring at the door at the end of the hall, pushed open to the width of a cat. not a sound.

he starts the kettle. it’s only polite.

in her cupboards, he finds the coffee and a collection of novelty mugs. he settles for ‘not paint water’ and ‘black coffee’ in the style of black flag.

she can’t meet simon. he’d steal her.

john refills cece’s water, then tiptoes around the living room. with the added context, he examines the decor and art in a new light. he wonders if she looks at them with pain or contempt. if any inspire positive thoughts, or if they’ve been stripped of them. if she, like him, keeps tokens regardless of sentiment. monuments to his own failings, shortcomings, and triumphs. and, if she does, how he’ll drown out the bad with good.

she startles him.

“morning.” she stands at the mouth of the hall, in sweats and a t-shirt, voice thick with sleep. “did you…?”

“hope you don’t mind.” he watches her shuffle languidly. “i don’t know if you prefer coffee or tea, but figured the kettle’s necessary either way.”

she hums and retrieves a glass pour-over from a cupboard. “i’m just impressed you’re here at all.”

you of little faith.

“not the type to flee a woman’s flat without a proper goodbye.”

“no? you often stay over at women’s flats?” her back is turned, but he hears the smile in her voice. “what constitutes a proper goodbye?”

his gaze lingers before he joins, ignoring the questions for his own sanity. “sleep well?”

after pouring water over the coffee grounds, she turns and leans, the picture of nonchalance, save for the puffy and still somewhat bloodshot eyes.

it’s not right to burn paintings, but he’d set fire to her ex’s studio, gallery—wherever the rat held his collection—if he believed it’d make her feel better.

“yes, actually. last night was, um, cathartic.”

he tilts closer, laying a palm flat on the counter beside her hip. “i assume there’s more to the story, but it’s your choice. i won’t pry any further. just say the word.”

“no, no. i want to tell you.” she sighs, focusing on the drip. “you’re right. i didn’t get to the best part.”

to that, he has no immediate answer. no inclination to rush her into conversation when she’s barely awake. in the brief silence, her dejection and shame seep into the space like the water filtering through the grounds.

john pulls out his phone, tapping through screens. “gonna need somethin’ to eat, sounds like. you been to…hm. ‘for goodness bakes’ bakery?”

she frowns over her shoulder. “john, i’m not suitable for public consumption.”

he lifts a brow. “debatable, but i mean to pop out and pick up breakfast. do you have a preference?”

slipping from his place beside her, he weaves around cece and heads for his shoes and jacket.

“you don’t have to–”

“i know. preference?”

across her flat, she fights back a smile and he fights his impulses.

“raspberry-filled doughnut.”

sweet. suits her. “rog. lock the door after me, shower, and i’ll be back before you know it.”

~~~~

the water feels hot, no matter how low you turn the temperature.

such a complicated influx of thought. flirting with john is effortless. talking is easy. he cuts through your guilt and grief like an icebreaking ship with none of the force or command. and he listens. really listens. you could stare at the divot between his eyebrows all day, the way his face grows serious, and his eyes somehow warmer.

for the first time in months, you genuinely fuss over clothes and skincare beyond moisturizer. are you pathetic? is this pathetic? you ask cece, she slow blinks and slaps the tie to your robe. inconclusive.

a knock at the door. you yank a shirt over your head, assess, and force yourself to walk calmly from your room.

don’t rush this.

~~~~

she smells faintly of citrus. coffee, too. though that may be the steaming mugs set between them.

“good?”

“the best,” her cheek bulges with a bite. her eyes don’t stray from the pastry, its fruity entrails spilled onto a plate. “thanks.”

they eat in relative silence, but he catches her staring at his bicep twice.

“rethinking your compliments?” he flexes the mermaid’s tail, dusting croissant flakes off his fingers.

her turn to ignore a question. she asks her own. “y’know, i never asked. do you live far?”

“across town.”

“and yet you come to the shop, what, three times a week when you’re in town?”

four, if he’s lucky. “good coffee. decent service.”

“right.”

she finishes and licks sugar off her thumb. john tears away to clear the table, ignoring another protest. last thing he wants to do is turn a lovely morning into an awkward one. he joins her on her couch, taking what feels like is quickly becoming his spot and prompting cece to sit on his lap.

“where did i leave off?” she asks rhetorically, staring into her mug. “ben’s big break. right. he was only originally supposed to be away for two weeks painting a mural for an architect’s office. well, midway through the job, the architect introduced him to a friend who happened to own a gallery.”

“the snowball.”

“yes. of course, ben’s gifted, but like i said, he’s got personality. the, uh, hustle. i can’t blame him for seeing an opportunity and taking it. at least that opportunity.”

john hesitates to address the continued self-deprecation with how her voice wraps around the very telling ‘that’. he bites his tongue and picks his battle. another day, he’ll help tear that veil of doubt from her eyes.

“anyway, his two week long trip spun out into six.” she winces. “he didn’t end up coming back once. not to grab more clothes or anything. he just had me send some along with selected pieces. he said there was no time.”

“and hannah?”

“neck-deep with the final school exhibition.” she goes quiet, lost in her barely-touched coffee. swallowing, her gaze lifts. “she was…busy.”

john sets his mug aside out of concern for the ceramic’s integrity.

“things became difficult. ben said he wanted to try long-distance before, so i thought six weeks was a decent trial run. i wasn’t well, but texting and calling him kept me afloat. then he started getting busier, and couldn’t text or call every day. one weekend, he didn’t answer at all. he did apologize, though, and sent me flowers—not as nice as yours, though. yellow somethings. kind of garish.”

he mirrors her small, sad smile, dropping it when she looks away. it’s deeply selfish and painfully juvenile to revel in that detail, but he does.

“eventually, his trip ended. things improved, rapidly, like he was eager to make up for lost time. dates, gifts, love notes. it was nice. he booked more work, but he bought a car, so he’d stay home during the week and travel on weekends. i couldn’t tag along often, since weekends are the busiest days at the shop, but he promised he’d be home for our anniversary.”

cece migrates. the ball of warmth leaves him for her mum, tucking her purring self into his girl’s lap. she sets her coffee down and idly strokes the creature, leaning hard into the cushions, holding her cheek with a palm. her focus drifts elsewhere for a minute.

he knew the story would inevitably reach this point. the crash. it’s difficult to believe he was so angry over a stupid dent.

“you don’t have to continue.”

“no, i want you to understand, john.”

his name’s enough to shut his mouth.

“at dinner, ben gave me his phone to show the photographs that a local paper was going to publish alongside an article about his work. i didn’t think anything of it, other than i thought he looked handsome. so i kept swiping.”

a gear turns in his head.

“and in the background of the last picture, ben and hannah were attached at the mouths.”

his blood boils. it is good his hands are empty.

“you know, i think he wanted me to find out like that. in public, where he didn’t think i’d make a scene.”

~~~~

ben called you crazy. crazy.

he’d taken his phone back with this look on his face and immediately demanded you lower your voice. you asked him point blank—how long?

he muttered something. months.

you’re not proud that you tossed a glass of wine into his face. knowing him, he was going to turn the breakup into a fucking piece. when he shot back from the table, he had the gall to act surprised and embarrassed. you contemplated throwing your glass, too, as he stormed out.

but he wasn’t worth it.

you’d lose your job. which you’d need, since you were definitely on your own now.

the bottle of wine you drank that night couldn’t cover the bitter taste in your mouth, nor could it erase the fact that ben won.

and you lost.

~~~~

outside, john loiters at the top of the stairs. the cooler air helps mellow his temper.

“sure i can’t sort him out for you? i know a man or two who’d help. there’d be no connection to you.” he smiles. if only she knew the sincerity of the offer.

“i’m sure, john. i’ll let you know if that changes. walk you to the corner?”

he shelves his anger for later. when her arm slips through his without asking, it’s swiftly shoved to the back. he squeezes her hand against his ribs.

“i’m curious about something.” john admits. “earlier. you insisted on tellin’ me everything so i’d ‘understand’.”

she hums.

“it’s not as though i didn’t follow. i did. i do, but i’m not entirely sure what you meant by that.”

at the corner, she withdraws and shoves her hands into her pockets. “i needed you to hear all the, uh, gruesome details. so you know what you’re getting into.”

“getting into?” his chest tightens.

a look of resolve falls over her face. her voice is the firmest he’s heard outside the shop, calling customers to pick up their orders.

“i made the mistake of rushing things before. i’m not keen to do it again. if you like being around me, john, which i think you do,”

more than you know.

“you should know i want to take whatever this is slow and steady. i don’t want to screw up again.”

he grasps for the right thing to say. slow and steady. he can do both. he’s laid on his belly for days waiting for a shot and knows the consequences of missing. to seize opportunity when it’s in front of him.

and this one’s finally wandered into his crosshairs.

#i swear to god do NOT junk this up again tumblr #john price x reader #john price x f!reader #price x reader #price x f!reader #loser barista

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bellaxgiornata · 3 days

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Half of Forever [Three]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!Reader Word Count: 4.8k [Series Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: break up, pining, idiots in love, angst with a happy ending

a/n: This is the final part of this little mini series. Enjoy the angst and the happy ending you've all been waiting for! Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

Stepping off the bus, you were immediately hit with the onslaught of rain heavily beating down on you from above. Ducking your head, you dashed across the sidewalk towards the nearest overhang for temporary shelter. As you darted towards the bodega, your dress shoes splashed water up onto your slacks as you ran through puddle after puddle.

Breath coming in hard once you'd reached the brief refuge, you took a moment to collect yourself. The rain continued to fall past the overhang, loudly pelting the sidewalk all around you. The handful of passersby toting umbrellas had you instantly wishing you'd grabbed yours before leaving your apartment for work today. But you’d foolishly forgotten to check the weather this morning.

Leaning up against one of the shop’s windows behind you, you heard the crack of thunder far off in the distance. A shiver ran through you, the chilled fabric of your drenched clothing clinging to your skin. Wiping a hand across your wet forehead, you let out a quiet groan as the weight of your predicament hit you.

What a horrible day this had turned out to be.

While you’d been on the city bus making your way home from the office, a storm had rolled in and a downpour had begun. Now standing here and looking out at the large puddles forming along the sidewalks and in the streets, you realized you had a long walk just past the outskirts of Hell's Kitchen and back to your apartment in this mess. All because you'd accidentally missed your actual bus stop, having been too distracted thinking about the reprimand you'd gotten from your boss just before you'd left work today.

Glancing down at your purse, you began to unzip the main compartment before reaching a hand inside. You pulled out your cell phone, your finger desperately holding down the power button as your eyes stared at the black screen and willed it to turn on. Except you knew it wouldn't because the battery had long since died. You hadn't properly plugged it into the charger when you'd gone to sleep last night, so by the time you'd gotten to work this morning and realized the battery was quite low, it had been too late to do anything about it. Your phone had tragically died in your purse some time before lunch.

Though realistically it didn’t matter that your phone was dead. It wasn’t like you could have afforded using one of your apps to set up a ride home even if your phone was working. Because unfortunately for you, you'd had the misfortune of falling ill two weeks ago and the unexpected doctor's bill along with the medication you’d needed had wiped out your measly extra bit of emergency cash.

“Goddammit,” you whispered.

Tears building in your eyes, you watched the rain continue to pour down around you as your chest steadily grew tighter and tighter from the stress of the day. The last thing you felt like doing this evening was spending a half an hour walking home in a storm, but you couldn't just stand here waiting beneath the shop’s overhang for it to end, either. You didn't exactly have a choice.

With a sharp exhale, you reluctantly accepted your fate. Pushing away from the window, you grudgingly stepped out from beneath the safety of your covering and straight into the downpour. You willed your legs to move at a speed faster than your usual pace as the rain once more drenched you. Though despite your increased pace, you certainly weren't tempted to run home because you knew it wouldn’t have mattered anyway–you were already soaked to the bone in a matter of seconds.

Ducking your head to avoid the rain drops from further attempting to blind you, you made your way down the sidewalk. Jaw set firmly, you couldn’t help but internally chastise yourself for having missed your stop before internally berating yourself for forgetting to at least grab the small umbrella you usually kept in your purse. You hadn't put it back after the last rainy day when you’d left it out to dry by your front door.

You’d only managed to make it two blocks while silently fuming to yourself and steadily growing colder in your drenched work clothes before you’d finally become completely overwhelmed. Once more you felt the tears threatening to fall as they welled in your eyes, steadily blurring your vision. This time you didn't think you could hold them back. Gritting your teeth, you rushed towards the nearest overhang on a building up ahead before turning your back to the sidewalk, not wanting the rest of the city to see you publicly breakdown. Burying your face in your hands, you let yourself finally cry.

It felt like things had not been going well for you for a while now–for years if you were being honest–and it felt like today had been the culmination of it all. Your job was awful and barely paid your bills. You hardly had any free time to spend with your friends anymore, and your dating life had only increasingly grown more depressing and lackluster. The apartment you'd once loved you had eventually grown to hate because it held the ghost of Matt everywhere you looked–at your kitchen table, on your couch, in your bed, beneath the spray of your shower.

You should have never come to the city. You should have gone anywhere else instead of giving into your dreams of some brilliant, happy life out here. Some fantastic life full of excitement and love. Because that wasn't the reality of your life in Hell’s Kitchen. Not anymore.

The tears continued to stream down your cheeks, your face still buried against your palms. Biting your bottom lip, you at least attempted to keep your sobs to a volume softer than the rain heavily falling around you and the distant rumbling of thunder. You felt pathetic standing here on the sidewalk crying in a storm in the middle of Hell’s Kitchen.

The sound of your name being called suddenly registered in your ears between your quiet sobs. Your body tensed instantly; you hadn't anticipated anyone approaching you out here let alone someone who apparently knew your name. But when they said your name again, the voice coming from just behind you this time, you knew exactly who had spoken.

Hunching further in on yourself, you felt your heart drop to the ground by your soaked feet. As if your bad day needed to get any worse, now it had. He was the absolute last person you wanted to see right now, the one who haunted your dreams most nights. Roughly wiping the heels of your hands over your eyes, you tried to dry your tears. Because of course if you were going to run into your ex, it had to be when you were embarrassingly at your lowest. Trying to brace yourself for whatever this encounter would do to your already battered heart, you swallowed the lump forming in your throat before cautiously turning around.

If you thought you'd been prepared to see Matt standing there soaked from the storm, you were certainly wrong. The sight of him in his fitted suit with his hair a damp, dark mess clinging to his forehead hit you like a tidal wave. Beads of rain were sliding down his cheeks, just past his red glasses. The corners of his lips were downturned among a darker scruff of beard than you ever recalled him having back when you’d both been together. Both of his hands were squeezing his cane tight between his fists, his dark dress pants wet and clinging to his thighs that had grown far thicker over the years.

With trembling lips, your eyes slowly traveled back up to his face, once more meeting the harsh crimson of his lenses. Teeth clamping down harder on your bottom lip, you fought back the sob threatening to spill forth as more hot tears slid down your cheeks. A sharp pain twisted in your chest, right where your heart resided. He’d grown more handsome with age, though that shouldn’t have remotely come as a surprise to you. He'd always been beautiful.

“What–what are you doing here?” he whispered, his dark brows sinking beneath his glasses. “Is something wrong?”

Your own brows dipped together in confusion before you finally looked around you, taking in your surroundings. It didn’t take long for you to realize where you’d accidentally ended up. Turning your head over your shoulder, you spotted the address on the familiar-looking building. It was Matt’s apartment building. Eyelids slowly lowering, you exhaled a sharp, frustrated breath.

“Are you in trouble?” he asked again, concerned. “Did…you need help?”

How utterly embarrassing this whole situation had become. He thought you’d come here on purpose . For his help as Daredevil most likely. Wincing, you slowly returned your attention to his beautiful, worried face. That sharp pain seared straight through you at the sight of him.

“No,” you whispered, an embarrassed heat burning up your neck. “I didn’t realize exactly where I was.”

Matt’s head tilted curiously to the side, his eyebrows still furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?” he asked. “You didn’t come here intentionally? You weren’t looking for me?”

Wincing once more, your eyes dropped down to your wet dress flats as you shook your head. Why couldn’t you have paid more attention to where you were going? Hell’s Kitchen was such a small area and it wasn’t like Matt would have ever left it. You should have been navigating your way home better in the rain so that you wouldn’t end up crying in front of his apartment building.

“No,” you awkwardly admitted. “I was distracted on the bus. Got off on the wrong stop. I wasn’t exactly paying attention to where I was in the storm, I was just trying to get back home.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Matt’s shoulders visibly drop at the information. Not entirely sure what to make of that, you kept your gaze averted as a chill ran up your spine. Your wet clothes certainly were not helping this situation.

“Oh,” he breathed out. “I’m sorry. I thought I recognized it was you standing here and I thought that you…nevermind.”

“No, it’s my fault,” you muttered, shaking your head. “Sorry. I–I didn’t mean to bother you by showing up like this. It was entirely an accident.”

An uncomfortable silence fell between the pair of you, that nauseating feeling you remembered from the night when he’d ended things with you years ago rising to the surface and uncoiling in your stomach. After this unexpected encounter, you knew you’d be trying and failing to move on from him all over again.

“I’m just–just going to go,” you stammered. “I should get back home anyway.”

Gripping your purse straps like a lifeline, you turned in the direction back towards your apartment. Though you’d taken two more steps before Matt called your name over the roar of thunder. You paused, eyes falling shut at the sound of his cane tapping along the sidewalk as you kept your back to him.

“You can’t possibly walk home in this,” he stated. “It’s not safe.”

“I don’t exactly have a choice. My phone’s dead and I don’t have money for a cab anyway,” you confessed awkwardly. “Faster to walk home than anything else at this point.”

You could feel his presence just behind you before you even heard his voice, the hair on the back of your neck prickling at his proximity. Your heart was beating in an agonizing rhythm in your chest with him so near after years of you both being apart. It had been so long since you’d last seen him, since you’d last heard his voice. Every second of this was sheer torture.

“I’ll call you a car,” he offered. “I can pay for it. I can’t have you walk home in this. How much do you need?”

“No, Matt,” you declined, sharply shaking your head.

Turning back towards him, you were surprised to see he’d already pulled his wallet out of his dress pants, his fingers running over the differently folded bills. A surge of emotion welled up within you at the sight, the feeling becoming almost too much to bear as the tears pricked at your eyes again. He never had much but he was always eager and willing to try and help everyone he could. One of the many things you'd always loved about him.

“I’m not taking your money,” you told him, fighting the tremor in your voice. “It’s fine. I’ll be fine.”

“Well I can’t let you walk home in this,” he stated again. “I won’t let you.”

A small, sad smile tugged at your lips as you watched a frown form along his own. As a few tears once more snuck their way from the corners of your eyes and burned warm trails down your cheeks, you saw Matt’s hand grip his wallet tighter in his fist.

“What’re you going to do, Matty?” you whispered. “Hold me here against my will?”

His lips thinned out along his face, his dark brows once more pulling together. Ever so subtly you saw him shake his head. With the sad smile still on your face, you nodded slowly.

“Yeah, exactly,” you murmured. “I need to head back home now before this storm gets worse. Goodbye, Matthew.”

Feeling your heart break for a second time, you turned around and stepped out from beneath the overhang on his building and back into the downpour of rain. Ducking your head, you continued down the sidewalk, not even bothering to wipe the tears from your face as they mingled with the drops of rain racing down your cheeks.

What a horrible day this had turned out to be.

Biting down sharply on your lip, you tried hard to muffle a sob now that Matt was here. But as your heart brokenly beat in your chest, you knew you couldn't hide a damn thing from him behind you. You never could.

As you took another step forward, something caught your elbow and tugged you backwards. Stumbling in a half turn, your right foot splashed into yet another puddle as you came face to face with Matt. His eyebrows were still tightly knit together, partially lowered beneath his lenses. His mouth was twisted in uncertainty as you stared back at him, your breath catching in your throat.

“Come up to my apartment,” he offered quietly, releasing your elbow. “You can get out of this storm and I can dry your clothes while you warm up in some blankets.”

Shaking your head slightly at his offer, you knew you'd never be able to accept it. This brief encounter was already painful enough, you didn't want to prolong it any further.

“No, Matt, I can't just–”

“Please,” he pleaded, cutting you off. “Please just come up.”

You stood there with your lips parted in surprise at the earnestness in his voice. Droplets of rain continued to travel down his cheeks, and you saw one bead of water currently clinging to the tip of his nose, mere moments from falling.

“Matt, I can't,” you repeated.

“Why?” he demanded, taking another step towards you. “Tell me. Tell me why you can't come up with me.”

You grimaced, your heart clenching tight in your chest as he continued to drag out this encounter. Tears continued to spill forth from your eyes as you stared back at the desperate expression now spread across his handsome face.

“Why are you doing this, Matt?” you whispered. “Can't you tell how much this is killing me right now? Just standing here talking to you? Now you need me to explain why I can’t just go up to your apartment, too? You really need me to–”

“Because it's killing me, too,” he confessed in a rush before you could finish.

For a second you swore your heart stopped beating at what he'd just admitted. Blinking the rain from your eyes, your mouth fell open in shock. You weren’t entirely sure what to make of that truth, but a part of you began to hope for something right then that you knew you probably shouldn’t.

“Wh–what?” you breathed out.

“I've thought about you,” Matt began, emotion thick in his words. “Over the years, I've thought about you. I can't–can't stop. I've tried, I really have. But I just…I sometimes feel like your presence is still there,” he continued, gesturing his head towards his apartment building behind him. “On occasion I can try to trick myself into thinking that you are–by ordering your favorite takeout or using that soap you always loved. The one with sage and citrus.”

A hesitant smile spread on Matt’s mouth, something melancholic in the way his lips had only marginally curved upwards. Swallowing the lump that had started to form in the back of your throat, another chill raced up your spine as you stood there in your soaked clothes. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you fought down the shiver that was beginning to lightly run through you.

You’d quite literally often dreamt of this moment with Matt. You'd often hoped that one day you’d run into him again somewhere and he would apologize, tell you that he still thought about you. That he still wanted you. But now that he was saying things you’d always wanted to hear, you didn’t quite know how to react. This moment still felt like one of your many dreams.

“It never works for long, though,” he continued softly, voice just louder than the rain. “Because the scent always fades too fast. And I can’t fake the sound of your heartbeat. I can’t–can’t recreate your scent on my bed sheets or the warmth of your body next to me when I’m trying to fall asleep at night.”

You closed your eyes, pressing your trembling lips together as you tried to staunch the flow of tears. You couldn’t believe what he was telling you. A few years ago he ended the relationship–a relationship that had been going so wonderfully well. Sure, there had been issues, but overall you two had fit so perfectly together and everything had just felt right. You’d talked about a future together–moving in, getting married, and whatever might come next. Until one day, seemingly out of nowhere, he’d just walked away from it all.

“Then why, Matt?” you whispered, opening your eyes and focusing back on him. With the tears filling your eyes, he’d grown a bit blurry standing there before you. “All those years ago, why did you end things? If you’ve been here all this time feeling exactly like I’ve been feeling for years then…what was the point?”

Matt ducked his head almost shamefully, one hand releasing his cane before rubbing it across his mouth. Nerves swirled in your stomach as another crack of thunder tore through the distance, the rumbling sound accentuating the pause that felt agonizingly long.

“Because I was scared,” he finally confessed, his attention seemingly fixed on the sidewalk–though you knew his senses were fixed on you. “I’d never quite felt how I did for you for anyone else before. One time I thought I did and she…left me. But it wasn’t just a fear of you leaving…”

Matt trailed off for a moment, growing silent as the rain continued to pour down. Your heart was in your throat as you waited for him to finish his thought.

“It was a fear of who I felt I was becoming when I was with you,” he finished softly. “Of what I thought I was losing.”

Eyes narrowing in confusion at Matt, you squeezed your arms tighter around your shivering body. “What do you mean?”

He raised his head, his rain speckled lenses focusing back on you. “We spent a lot of time together, remember? Specifically in the evenings? Before things ended?”

Gaze averting to the ground, you tried to recall the end of the relationship. He had in fact stayed in more frequently. You remembered sharing meals together after work and taking walks at the park. Scheduling date nights on the weekend and staying up late beneath the sheets. It hadn’t been every night, but he had significantly begun to spend more time with you just before he’d ended the whole thing–which had only added to your confusion at the time.

“Yeah,” you answered, glancing up at him from beneath your lashes. “I remember. But what does that have to do with anything?”

“I feared I was changing into someone else,” Matt answered slowly, taking a hesitant step towards you. “I thought I was losing the other half of myself in our relationship because I had begun to spend less time as Daredevil. So I–I pushed you away to try to prevent myself from fully losing myself. And I used that as an excuse to run from my fear of you leaving me.”

"T hat's what you meant by not being able to be yourself with me?” you asked, everything finally beginning to make sense. “Oh Matthew,” you breathed out, shaking your head. “You were never losing Daredevil. Not at all. You never once stopped helping the people who needed it. The nights someone was in danger or something was happening, you still put on the mask.”

Licking your lips as you paused, you could taste the salt of your tears among the droplets of rain. A flash of lightning streaked across the sky behind Matt, just above the tops of the buildings. Seconds later, another roar of thunder punctuated the silence.

“What I think you were doing was learning balance in your life,” you told him. “Learning to be both Matthew Murdock and the Devil.”

“I know,” Matt agreed gently, nodding his head. “But I realized that three years too late. And I'm–I'm so sorry for that.”

Swallowing hard, you felt your heart hammering beneath your arms still wrapped around your chest. “And I never wanted to leave you,” you added, voice cracking as you spoke. “You were my forever, Matty. I told you that.”

A muscle visibly jumped in his cheek, the corners of his mouth twitching as if he couldn't decide on a smile or a frown. Taking another hesitant step, Matt closed the gap between you both. Gazing back at his red lenses, you felt your breath begin to come in sharper now that he was right there .

Without warning his hand reached up, timidly coming to cup your cheek in his palm. As if on instinct, you leant back into his warm touch, the feel of it sending a shudder through you for a reason other than the contrast from the cold. His thumb softly swept outwards, gently brushing away a few teardrops from your cheek. You felt like you couldn't breathe as the pad of his thumb afterwards began to affectionately stroke a line along your cheekbone.

“Please come up,” he begged. “Let me help you.”

Eyes closing, you tried to focus on formulating a thought. But it was hard to think with him touching you, with him pleading for you to let him help you. Inhaling a breath, you'd been about to respond, but then you felt him lightly press his damp forehead to yours and your eyes flew open.

He was so close. His hot breath was falling against your lips as it left his own parted ones. The sensation was dizzying, making it hard to focus on almost anything else. Beneath the arms still tightly wrapped around your chest, you could feel your heart accelerating to a worrying speed.

“We can talk,” he told you. “About everything. I have more to apologize for, I know. I just–just want to fix the mess I made. If it's not too late.”

Exhaling a slow breath, you let his words wash over you like the rain itself, cleansing the years worth of pain that lingered in your heart. Gradually you nodded against his forehead, catching the way he sucked in a sharp breath at the little movement.

“Okay,” you whispered. “I'll come up.”

With the way your eyes had been fixed on his lips, you caught the faint smile that slipped onto his mouth the second it did. Something shot through you like a bolt of electricity at the sight of it. Matt's nose affectionately and timidly bumped yours, a small gesture that brought a rush of feelings straight to the surface along with a confession that bubbled right out of your mouth.

“I missed you,” you whispered. “So much.”

“I missed you, too, angel,” he murmured, thumb brushing away another tear along your cheek. “I've never stopped missing you.”

Matt shifted his head, his lips accidentally grazing yours as he did. A soft whine you had no control over snuck out of you, the sound drawing another sharp inhale from Matt as his nostrils flared. Your hands curled into fists against your body as he leaned in, just barely touching his lips to yours. Eyelids slowly falling shut once more at the feel of his breath washing over you, you sighed in frustration when his mouth still remained at a distance.

“ Matt .”

You breathed out his name like a plea, your fingernails digging into the palms of your hand. It was quickly becoming far too difficult not to touch him.

“Tell me you haven't thought about this, too,” Matt nearly demanded. “Tell me you don't want me. Just one ‘no’ and I won't–”

Losing control, your hands flew away from your sides and landed on Matt's soaked suit coat, balling the wet material in your fists. “Yes,” you answered him. “I'm telling you yes , Matthew.”

There was a moment, a brief one, where Matt’s face hovered in the space just before yours. Your breath was coming in sharp and hard as you watched him, aware he was probably reading your body for whatever he needed to hear. You knew the exact moment he'd found what he was looking for because his expression shifted just before he launched himself forward at you.

Stumbling backwards into the wall of the building behind you at the force of Matt's enthusiasm, your eyes snapped shut the second his mouth was on yours. Hands snaking their way up his chest, you wrapped your arms around his neck and tangled your fingers in the damp strands of his hair. You pulled him flush to the front of yourself with a faint gasp, his soaked body deliciously heating the front of your freezing and drenched one.

Matt's hand on your cheek held you in place against the brick wall behind you, tilting your mouth to the exact angle for him to easily connect his lips to yours over and over in a heated passion. The pair of you struggled to catch your breath each time he pulled away, your gasping breaths loud in your own ears despite the storm still raging. His other hand landed on your hip, roughly grabbing it as he kissed you. You could feel the way it shook against you, as if he was struggling not to do more than just hold you there.

“I’m so sorry, angel,” he whispered against your lips.

His mouth was immediately back on yours, relentless in his determination to make you feel just how apologetic he was. Your own mouth was hungrily matching his pace, the rain forgotten as you tried to express the longing you'd been tormented by every single day since he'd left you.

Fingers gripping his hair, you took advantage of the seconds in between kisses. “Don’t you dare–” you broke off as his mouth slammed back onto yours again, “–break my heart again, Matthew,” you finished when he pulled back.

Matt paused at your words, breathing hard as he gazed back at you, the rain continuing to wash over the both of you. Nearly out of breath yourself, you couldn't help but admire how perfect he looked standing there completely soaked with his flushed cheeks and the small smile gracing his swollen lips.

“Never,” he promised. “I hate myself for ever hurting you like that. And it’ll never happen again, I promise you that. The pain of those last three years was torture. Punishment. And I promise we'll talk, angel, we will, but…”

His voice trailed off and your eyes darted back to his lips. The lips you missed, the lips that brought you comfort in a way nothing else ever had. In that moment you understood him completely.

“But not right now,” you agreed.

Yanking him back towards you with the hand still tangled in his hair, you swallowed the resulting soft growl of his down, kissing him with all the longing that you'd bottled inside for the past three years. Matt didn't hesitate to match your passion and enthusiasm as he pressed you further into the brick behind you, your back arching into him just as another rumble of thunder tore through the night.

What an unexpected day this had turned out to be.

Matt Murdock One Shot/Shorts Tag List: @pazii @shouldbestudying41 @kmc1989 @ebathory997 @yeonalie @shiorimakibawrites @xxdrixx @wkndwlff @leikelle @pinkratts @lazyxsquirrel @1988-fiend @marvelcinematiquniverse @carstairswife @stilldreaming666 @kiwwia-wiwwia @willwork4dilfs @will-delete-this-later-probably @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @theetherealbloom @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18 @ladywholikesreading @millennial-birkin @tartbeanpuzzles @harleycao @sunflower-tia @gamingfeline @juskonutoh @kezibear @ninacotte @withyoutilltheendoftheline @justanerd1 @scriptedmoon @ardent-crow @lucienofthelakes @sarahskywalker-amidala @flowher @loves0phelia @a-half-empty-g1rl @zomtart @justvalkyrie @steve-chandler @islayhawkin @slyregg

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock angst #matt murdock x you #matt murdock #daredevil

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zepskies · 22 hours

Text

Lost on You - Part 9

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader

Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who’s the predator, and who is prey.

AN: The great escape…

Song Inspo: “Running Up That Hill (A Deal With God)” by Kate Bush

Word Count: 7.2K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Blood and violence, death, angst, trauma and PSTD, smut, hurt/comfort and feels.

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Part 9: Free to Be You and Me

Free me, you compelled Eisenstein’s mind.

He obeyed you with a vacant look in his eyes. He unhooked your straitjacket and opened the door. After you grabbed up his cattle prod, you still didn’t release your psychic hold. You ordered him forward, and for the first time you walked freely out of your cell without restraint.

Take me to Soldier Boy.

Eisenstein walked forward. Any time you came across a guard, you tased them long enough to touch whatever scrap of skin you could, usually their face or their neck. You added them to your collective control.

Now you had literal bodyguards protecting you as you made your way through the compound. You hadn’t used your powers in so long. It felt good, like stretching an aching muscle.

Once you reached Ben’s cell, Eisenstein stopped in front of it. When you peered inside the small window on the door, it looked misty as hell.

Clear the gas, you ordered.

The doctor pressed a key of numbers on a pad beside the door, and the gas receded into the vents.

Open the door.

He did as you commanded, then he stepped aside for you. You ordered the guards to stand watch outside the open door before you hurried inside. Ben was lying on the floor, mostly on his side. He was still very naked, though your face warmed as you tried not to focus on that part.

It made you sad more than anything. They’d been keeping him in here like an animal, worse than you, and after what he did for you…you could no longer find it in yourself to hate him.

You took his face into your hands and tapped his cheek.

“Ben… Ben, wake up,” you prodded.

His brows twitched. He made a sound of waking, and you swept his hair out of his eyes. Before they even opened all the way, his hand shot out and grabbed you by the throat. It choked a gasp out of you as you scrambled to grab his wrist.

“Ben,” you said with difficulty. “It’s me…”

Though if you thought about it, after the last things you’d said to him, maybe he did really want to kill you. Maybe he regretted saving you after all.

As he blinked more awake, this time he actually took in your face. His hand relaxed when he recognized you. You panted in relief to see it dawn in his eyes. His thumb slightly brushed across your jaw, and your name fell from his lips, almost in wonder.

“Yeah, it’s me,” you said with a smile and tears in your eyes. “Come on.”

You helped him up the best you could. His frame was bigger and heavier, and he was still a bit unsteady on his feet. He slung an arm around your shoulders and let you guide him out of the room. He tensed at seeing the guards in their green uniforms and Eisenstein standing there, but you held a hand to his chest. His skin there was hot to the touch. You frowned.

Must be whatever the serum did to him.

Dismay pulsed inside you, but you’d think about that later.

“It’s okay, they’re with me,” you told him with a smile, before you looked at one of the guards.

“Give him your clothes,” you ordered.

The man was compelled to set down his gun, take off his hat and the rest of his uniform, even his underwear, socks, and boots. He gave them all to Ben, who raised a brow.

“I’m good without the briefs,” he said with a grimace, tossing the used underwear to the floor. You flickered at a smile.

“Guess you’re going commando,” you said.

Ben scoffed. He muttered, “Yeah, what else is fucking new.”

A sliver of sadness once again pierced you, but you stayed quiet. He released you so he could get dressed. Biting your lip, you glanced away to give him some privacy.

Another guard turned the corner and noticed you all in the hallway. He raised a pointed finger and shouted something in Russian, then he raised his gun. You ordered your guards to shoot the man, but the damage was done. A red alert was sounding overhead.

“Let’s go,” Ben said. After lacing up his boots, he guided you with a hand on your back.

Eisenstein and three guards formed a pack of protection around you and Ben as you moved through the compound. You slowed to a stop at what looked like a laundry room.

“I need something else to wear,” you said. “Once we get outside, I’m gonna stick out—”

Ben eyed your thin gray gown and socks. He grabbed your arm and led you inside.

“Find something in here,” he said, as if that wasn’t your idea.

Instead of wasting time picking an argument, you just nodded in agreement. You looked around and picked through the large clean bin of clothing. It held several mixed bundles of faded green men’s shirts and pants. Finally, you managed to find a dark red tracksuit. It was a men’s size, so it wasn’t going to fit you, but maybe you’d look a little less ridiculous. Ben tossed you the smallest pair of boots he could find, and they were still huge. They would have to do.

“How do we get out of here?” you asked as you got dressed. You turned around for a semblance of modesty, but it didn’t stop the man from glancing over, checking out your ass, bare legs and back.

“We fight,” he replied. There was a dark note in his voice that you understood, and you agreed with him.

“I know. I mean a little more specifically,” you said. When you were dressed, you turned around and met your companion’s grim look. Together, you two returned to the hall and focused on Eisenstein.

“What’s the best way to get out of here?” you asked him. Your hold on his mind forced him to answer honestly.

“The compound is three stories underground. You must take the elevators up to the top,” he responded, almost like a robot.

“Show us,” you ordered.

The doctor complied. He led the way, and the guards covered your back as you hurried through the maze of hallways. Finally, he led you to the main laboratory. Inside were the rest of the doctor’s team trying to filter out and evacuate, while the rest of the security guards formed a line against you. You saw where the scientists were headed, to a large elevator along the far wall.

“There!” you pointed, grabbing Ben’s arm.

He held you to him quick when the shots fired your way. He protected you with his body as the bullets bounced harmlessly off his skin, though a few of them tore through his clothes. He turned around but kept you behind him. His hands curled into fists, and he rooted his stance. You weren’t sure what he was doing, but you hid yourself behind his broad back.

Ben charged up the power that had already been building in his chest. It had started from the moment they injected him with that goddamn serum.

Now, he knew what it was. It felt like lava inside his chest—a nuclear force that he unleashed throughout the lab. It destroyed everything in its path, from desks and beakers to walls and support beams, to the men screaming and trying in vain to get away.

When it was over, Ben heaved for breath but remained standing. You peered around him in shock.

“Oh my God…”

There wasn’t much left of the lab, just a ruins, and a meager group of survivors, limping, moaning, struggling. Your face evened out, akin to stone. You had no sympathy for any of them. You endured their studies and were forced to hear their thoughts. You knew that these men weren’t men at all.

You decided to finish the job.

“Cover your ears,” you told Ben. He shot you a questioning look, his brows furrowed.

“Just trust me,” you said.

Then you opened your mouth, and you sang. Your eyes glowed with power, and the force of your siren song gripped every man still alive in the room. They soon began screaming anew, holding their heads as tears of blood streamed from their eyes. That included your guards, as well as Doctor Eisenstein.

Ben was forced to cover his ears, gritting his teeth. It didn’t affect him as badly, but even he yelled in strain.

You released your hold on the room and stopped singing. By then, all the normal humans were dead.

It was your turn to catch your breath. You’d used up a great deal of energy in a short span of time with your powers, and your body was still weak and undernourished. You took an unsteady step forward and nearly fell.

Ben caught you around your waist. He gathered you up against his chest, and you tried to grab onto his arms and keep your head raised.

His gaze flit over your face. “Can you walk?”

You closed your eyes to try and clear the dizziness and black spots from your vision.

“Uh, yeah. Just give me a minute,” you said.

Ben made a sound of impatience. He hefted you into his arms easily. You gasped and held onto him, and he made his way across the ruined lab.

The elevator doors were fried, but the compartment still worked. Without dropping you, he wedged his hand in between the fused metal doors and ripped them open. Then he stepped inside with you in his arms.

You felt the heat still emanating from his chest. You glanced up at him. There, he met your stare. There was so much you wanted to say, and yet, you had no idea how. You wondered if he felt the same way.

He faced forward again, and you did the same. You two rode the elevator all the way up in silence.

You asked him to set you down on your feet when the elevator finally reached the ground floor. It was merely a lobby area with some thick double doors at the end. You practically ran to it, regardless of your unsteady gait. You just wanted to breathe fresh air and see the outside world.

And it was beautiful. You teared up at seeing the gray sky and the expanse of snow-laden mountains in the distance, even though the air was freezing. A gust of wind shoved at you. You held yourself with a shiver and a gasp as you stared out at the expanse of snow ahead. You weren’t dressed for a cold snap in Siberia.

Ben wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you back. You doubted he felt the cold much with his invulnerable skin. For once you were jealous.

“Come on, there’s a car over there,” he said, pointing to a small parking lot.

The only scientist who escaped the lab was trying to thrust his key into the door lock of his gray sedan. His hands were shaking badly, but he managed to get the key in. A heavy hand fell on his shoulder.

The scientist slowly looked up, and he saw Ben’s grim reflection in the window.

It was the last thing he saw.

You and Ben bickered over the navigation to the closest airport. You had the map in your hands, not that you could read it very well in Russian, but he claimed his instincts were leading him south. You once again wanted to throttle him.

You eventually figured out the way to the closest international airport, thanks to the small image of a plane on the map. You didn’t have luggage, which made things easier, but you still needed to compel several people into giving you a pair of tickets (in coach, as to not be suspicious—through security and Customs before you could board the next flight to New York. By the time you and Ben actually sat down in your shitty seats on the plane, you were exhausted in every way.

“You can have the window seat,” you offered. “I’m probably just going to sleep the whole way.”

Ben tacitly agreed and slid in first, but he watched you lower down into the middle seat with a tired sigh. You glanced over at him.

“How’re you feeling?” you asked.

“Fine,” he answered, his voice deep and stoic as always. He opened up the bag of snacks he’d snuck onto the plane and started chowing down on some beef jerky. He offered you some, and you took a couple of pieces.

It was hard to tell what he was thinking. You felt a bit of anxiety coming off of him with your abilities, though you supposed that could’ve been from the plane gearing up to take off, finally getting you guys the hell out of here.

Or maybe, like you, flashes of the past decade were still filtering through his mind, making this moment seem unreal.

We actually did it. We made it out.

Even so, you weren’t sure what he saw when he looked at you. The last time you two had truly spoken, you’d said a lot of hurtful things, even though many of them were hard truths he’d needed to hear.

“Yes! It is your fault. Because you’re too much of a mean, callous, arrogant, entitled, selfish, fucking asshole to see that everybody hates you!”

“The only thing I really wanted from you was what you could do for my career.”

You remembered the sound of his voice, not even angry anymore. Just resigned.

“It was all an act, huh?”

“Yeah, it was,” you said. “I fucking hope I never have to see your face again.”

The memory of it made your chest sting. It also filled you with questions you were almost afraid to ask.

Did he resent you? Hate you? Was this Bonnie and Clyde escape plan just for convenience’s sake, or…did he actually care about you, deep down?

As you thought about what happened yesterday in his cell, the way he’d saved you from Eisenstein’s experiment—the serum that created the damn nuclear bomb in his chest—you had to wonder…

If he didn’t care about you, why else had he saved you?

The question continued to revolve in your mind, like discordant notes on a stanza’s refrain, until your exhaustion claimed you.

Flashes of memory scored through your subconscious. They filled your dreams with echoes of pain and the sound of your own voice giving out.

You woke with a start, heaving for breath as panic rose high in your chest and throat. Your heartbeat was pulsing in your ears, and you felt clammy and wrong.

Ben whispered your name sharply. His grip on your arm broke you out of the haze, but it startled you as well. You blinked fast, as if you could clear the nightmare from continuing behind your eyes. He glanced over his shoulder at one of the flight attendants passing by. Ben soon returned his attention to you though.

“Calm down. You’re going to blow our cover,” he said.

You nodded shakily, but you couldn’t help it. Tears welled up in your eyes and made your lips tremble.

“What if they come after us?” you whispered. You were even trembling in your distress. “What if they find us—”

“That’s not gonna happen,” Ben said sternly. “We Kentucky fried all those Commie cocksuckers.”

“I can’t. I can’t go back,” you said, shaking on every word. Your fear, your panic was rising, making your hand clutch at the front of his shirt.

Ben’s frown deepened. He turned toward you and took your face in his big hands, earning a gasp from you. Your watery eyes met his firm ones.

“You’re not going back,” he said. “That shit’s over, you understand me?”

Tears continued to slip down your cheeks, but you gave a jerky nod. He didn’t seem satisfied.

After a moment of hesitation, he pulled you in for a hard kiss. Your breath hitched…but your eyes fell closed. You didn’t care that his scraggly beard rasped against your chin. All you could do was focus on the familiarity of his lips moving against yours.

He pulled away slowly, with him seeming to try and gauge your reaction. Your eyes slid open and met his. Your fingers tangled further in his shirt, and you tugged yourself closer, your lips nearing his in askance.

He answered you, kissing you again.

Landing in LaGuardia Airport was even more of a shitshow than it used to be. A mess of people and traffic and tourists and resident commuters, it didn’t matter that it was at one in the morning. Cars honking and people jabbering and the clanking of suitcases rolling across the ground as airport staff droned instructions on the overhead speakers; it was all discombobulating for you, after having spent so long alone and in the dark, with minimal interactions or stimulation.

You had a feeling you weren’t the only one a bit overwhelmed. You noticed Ben’s tense expression and tight shoulders. His head turned at every sharp sound…and even sounds that weren’t there.

You stayed close to him as you two found your way outside the airport. You watched out for him silently, while he kept a hand on your lower back. Neither of you seemed to want to lose each other in the throng. He managed to hail a cab, beating out a businessman who was busy talking on some kind of cordless phone.

You and Ben shared a bewildered look on that one.

Once you were in the cab, sitting beside Ben, you let out a breath of relief. It was still cold in April, and your overlarge tracksuit wasn’t cutting it.

“Where to?” the cabbie asked. You glanced at your companion and gave him a raised finger, imploring him to follow your lead. You had an idea.

“Take us to the nearest department store,” you said.

“At this time? All the stores are closed,” the cabbie replied.

“Just do what she fucking said, all right, pal?” Ben said, none too gently. He was already on edge from the long flight and antsy to get somewhere comfortable.

“Okay, man. Jeez,” the cabbie muttered. He drove off, peeling away from the curb and merging into traffic.

You couldn’t fault Ben; you felt the same way. You laid a comforting hand on his thigh. He glanced at you and calmed, somewhat. He raised his arm and draped it over the back of your seat. You tentatively took it as an invitation, so you scooched over a little to rest against his side.

Let out a long breath through his nose, he looked out the window at the passing scenery of the city. The nightlife all flashed by in familiar colors and sounds of cars honking and music playing in the distance. Meanwhile, his fingers brushed along your shoulder absently. As the car’s warmth seeped into your bones, you tried your best to stay awake.

You and Ben broke into Sears via the backdoor alleyway, next to one vile smelling dumpster. There you veered off into separate ways in the department store.

You chose to grab a cart before you went into the women’s section. You started with the bras and panties and pulled things off the display tables and hangers, regardless of their price. Dear God, I’ve missed real underwear. You even grabbed a few silky, lacy things in the lingerie section, with a secret smile over your shoulder.

You grabbed a razor while you were at it, along with some other toiletries, shampoo and conditioner, a generous pile of makeup, and some other hair and body products.

You later perused with a half-critical eye at the rest of the women’s clothing. Apparently, jeans were a lot baggier in the ‘90s, and you were finding too many crop tops and overalls.

What the hell is this decade? you thought, but you managed to find a few outfits you liked that were still versatile enough to mix and match. You didn’t know when you’d be able to do this again.

Within the hour, you met back up with Ben, who was carrying all of his clothing finds piled up in his arms. You smiled in amusement. Typical man.

He dumped it all into your cart—a few pairs of pants and shirts and jackets and shoes, and even a men’s electrical shaving kit.

“Good call, lumberjack,” you said, eyeing his beard. Ben shook his head and ran a palm over the sheer length of it.

“Let’s just get the fuck out of here,” he grumbled.

“Ooh, wait,” you said, pointing at a row of suitcases. “That’ll make this easier.”

He agreed. Soon, you had each picked out your suitcases and packed them with your finds. Then you literally rolled out the way you came.

You paused at the door when you heard a clicking sound, followed by the handle turning. A security guard was just as surprised to catch you and Ben as you were to see him. But before he could even raise his gun, you stepped up and touched his face.

Sleep, and forget.

Within seconds, the man’s eyes rolled up into his head, and he slumped to the floor in a heap.

Ben had the next idea of where to go, after hailing another cab. You went along with it, but you thought he could’ve picked something a little more…inconspicuous.

Your eyes were bright, however, when you stared up at the beautiful building of the Plaza Hotel. You had never stayed here before, but it was also the home of the Oak Room. Ben had taken you there for dinner a handful of times, including on your first date.

“Why here?” you asked, glancing up at Ben. He shot you a knowing smile.

“Was feeling a little sentimental, I guess.”

His hand came to rest on your lower back again, and you ventured with him inside to the hotel lobby. It was pristine, as always, with its polished tile floors and vaulted ceilings. It wasn’t check-in hour, so the place was mostly empty, save for a single front desk clerk on the night shift.

That was in your favor though. You two might’ve raided Sears for new clothes, but you definitely didn’t look like the Plaza’s typical guests. With a quasi-flirtatious hand over the young man’s wrist, you were able to compel the clerk to book you and Ben into an entire suite with a king-sized bed, indefinitely, and all complimentary of the Plaza Hotel.

“Enjoy your stay,” he said robotically as he gave you the room keys. You gave him a smile with the glow of your eyes.

“Thank you. I’m sure we will.”

You were run down. You felt it in what seemed like all of the joints, muscles, and sinew in your body when you and Ben got into your suite. The place was lavish and beautifully decorated in soft yellows, crèmes, and beiges, with dark wood furniture, vases full of pink roses, and fine art on the walls, but all you cared about was dumping your suitcase on the floor and dropping face-first onto the bed.

“Oh my God, a real fucking bed,” you said into the clean, soft cotton. It actually brought tears to your eyes.

You managed to turn yourself onto your back as Ben rolled his suitcase to a stop beside yours. He watched you in bemusement.

“You did good, sweetheart,” he said, briefly grasping your arm as he passed by. It warmed a smile and a blush onto your face.

“What do you feel like eating?” he asked. “I’m gonna order some food.”

You shook your head and gave a dismissive wave of your hand.

“Anything. I’ll eat literally anything.”

He went to the phone on one of the nightstands and dialed Room Service. He ordered enough food to feed three of him (and one of him could be a whole dinner party). Satisfied with the promise of fast service, he hung up and started unpacking his suitcase for a change of clothes.

You sat up with a groan. “You can take the first shower. I need a minute to get situated.”

More like, gather your strength. Using your powers so much across the course of your journey back to the States had taken it out of you, beyond what you’d expected. You needed at least a few of days of solid R&R. Make it a year.

Ben eyed you as he began to unbutton his shirt.

“Or, you can join me,” he said.

You turned to face him more fully at that. Your mouth parted to reply, but you hesitated. His offer took you by surprise, even though it probably shouldn’t have.

He saw your uncertainty. What surprised you even more was that he didn’t press it. He just nodded slightly, and went into the bathroom to finish undressing. Within a few minutes, you heard the showerhead turn on.

What do you want here? you asked yourself.

It should’ve been a simple question. Somehow, it wasn’t.

But you made a decision. This time, you weren’t thinking three steps ahead. You weren’t thinking about consequences, or what people would expect of you. You just thought about what you wanted, here and now.

Slowly, you got up from the bed. You took a breath to steady yourself, and you went into the bathroom. The mirror was already fogged up with steam. Behind the shower curtain, you could hear Ben scrubbing and humming some tune to himself, making you smile.

You shed the ratty old jumpsuit from your body with slightly shaking hands. From anticipation or nerves, you didn’t know which. After stepping out of the heap of fabric, you called his name softly. You knew he heard it, because the humming stopped.

Ben pulled back the shower curtain to find you standing there, gazing up at him while biting the inside of your lip. His eyes drew down your form, over each and every bare curve. You wondered if he remembered it all with the same clarity as you did, the way his body used to fit against yours.

He reached out his hand, and you took it, letting him guide you into the shower. He slid his free hand around the back of your neck and drew you into a passionate kiss, hotter than the spray from the showerhead beating down on you both. His arm came down around your waist and he turned you around to press you against the wall.

You gasped at the cold impact of the tile, but you welcomed the heat of him. You met his each and every demanding kiss in kind, sinking your fingers through his wet, longer hair and dragging your nails against his scalp. Meanwhile, his hands were everywhere, sliding possessively up your sides, up smooth skin to squeeze your breasts, rolling your hard and sensitive nipples under his thumbs.

You arched into him with a pleased moan. It had been so damn long since you were touched. Perhaps it was a poetic form of irony that he was the last man to have ever fucked you.

Ten long years. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about his hands, his mouth, the memories and the feeling of his cock inside you, stretching you, filling you. The thought had you slipping a hand down between his body and yours, roaming down his chest and abs, just to caress the full risen length of him in your palm.

He groaned into your mouth, instinctively pressing himself into your hand and caging you harder against the wall. His lips veered away to kiss and suck his way down your neck. You panted for breath against him.

“Ben, please,” you pleaded. Your hand pumped him faster, twisting along his shaft and goading him to full mast.

He panted with a nod, nosing along your throat. “All right, baby doll. I gotcha.”

He made his way down your body to lap at your breasts, taking a nipple between his teeth and teasing you there with the scruff of his beard. You moaned, had to release your hold on him when he took your hand and pinned it by your head on the warm tile. His other hand skimmed down your wet body to cup your mound.

You whimpered, instinctively pressing yourself into his hand. You felt his familiar smirk between your breasts, just before his thumb drew down between the slick folds of your pussy. It swept back up to brush your clit, and you jolted against his hand, releasing another moan. You were so damn sensitive already.

Ben seemed to enjoy it. He took his time working you up, strumming along and inside your slit with his fingers, making you clench on nothing in anticipation. Just when you opened your mouth to snap at him to fucking touch you already, he obliged you, slipping two long fingers deep into your channel.

You gasped and shuddered at the invasion, but it was a welcome one. He built up a rhythm, rocking his fingers inside of you while his thumb pressed and circled at your clit. It didn’t take long before your inner walls were clenching around his fingers as you shuddered your release. Your warmth coated his hand down to the knuckles.

Ben kissed you deeply, cutting off your moaning of his name. From there, he grabbed your thigh and helped you hike your foot up on the soap dish on the wall, so he could make room for himself between your legs.

He used the remnants of your slick to coat himself, before he sheathed his cock deep inside you with one push. Both of you groaned at the feeling, a sweet relief and a tight fucking fit. It was like your body remembered the shape of him.

“You still take my cock just right. Fit me like a fucking glove,” he said, sliding out of you with ease. He eased back in with a snap of his hips, inching you up higher on the wall. You clung to his arms tighter, with your nails biting fruitlessly into his flesh.

“God, yes,” you uttered.

But just when he started picking up a rougher, delicious set of thrusts, Ben faltered as his body locked up on him with the force of his orgasm. He came quickly, too quickly, for him. His brows furrowed as he caught his breath. You picked up on his surprise, and then his frustration—at himself.

“Fuck!” he growled, fisting a hand against the wall.

You were a little stunned yourself, but quickly you had to try not to laugh. Biting your lip, you reached up to stroke his cheek.

“It’s okay,” you panted. “It’s okay, baby. It’s just been a long time.”

After a few seconds of continued seething, Ben met your gaze. Seeing that you weren’t judging him, he reluctantly settled down.

“Still think I’m an asshole?” he asked.

The question caught you off guard, but you softened into a smile.

“That remains to be seen,” you replied.

He almost huffed. He slid a wet strand of hair behind your ear.

“You still afraid of me then?” he said.

Your amusement faded. You tilted your head at him, raising your brows. He was still inside you, and he asked this question?

But if he was asking you that, then he really did want to know. You grasped his chin and made sure he looked you in the eyes.

“Are you going to hurt me?” you asked, in a tone that quietly demanded. “Am I safe with you?”

His eyes held a weight you hadn’t seen before.

“You’re safe with me,” he said.

You felt his sincerity. It rang true in his words, and you saw it for yourself. You believed him.

So you nodded. You let your hand fall to his chest. “Okay.”

He nodded as well. Finally, he untangled himself from you and turned off the showerhead, the water now run cold. He stepped out of the shower first, but he turned to give you a hand. You accepted his help as you came out and grabbed a couple of towels for both of you. After you had yours wrapped around your body, you reached for his arm to earn his attention.

He had been honest with you. You felt it was time for you to give him the same.

“Ben,” you said, with a sigh. “Back then, I lied to you.”

He snorted. “Which time?”

You gave a wry look, but you were serious. You shifted closer to him. You both stood there, dripping wet, with mere inches in between while Ben looked down at you, and you up at him.

“This. You and me…it wasn’t all an act,” you said, as tears began to well up in your eyes. “I just didn’t want to admit it, even to myself.”

Ben hummed in contemplation. He raised a hand to draw a line down your cheek with his thumb.

“Hmm. Well. Maybe you weren’t the only one,” he said eventually.

Your lips tugged at a smile. He leaned down and met you with another kiss, and this time it was a slow, simmering heat.

Ben took his time in the bathroom afterward to shave his face with the clippers and razor he bought. When he padded back into the dining area, by now fully clothed in a shirt and some sweatpants, he found you already eating without him. You were tearing into some chicken parmesan ravenously while watching a show on TV.

“What’s on?” he asked, sitting down across from you at the two-seater table. He grabbed one of the plates with his steak and potatoes and began tearing into his own meal. He intended to hit the chicken wings next, or maybe the burger sliders and fries.

“Seinfeld?” You sounded unsure. “It just started. Supposed to be a comedy, I think.”

You and Ben watched the episode until the credits rolled, but he shook his head, licking his fingers after finishing his fifth chicken wing. You were drawn to the sight—grossed out, and yet, a little turned on.

“Nothing happened in that whole goddamn episode,” he said.

You were inclined to agree. So what if they couldn't get a damn table at a Chinese restaurant?

“Okay,” you checked the pamphlet TV Guide. “Let’s try…Friends. It’s on next.”

“The One with the East German Laundry Detergent,” was the name of the episode, according to the TV Guide. You actually enjoyed yourself throughout the whole thing. Even Ben laughed at some of Chandler’s lines. You hadn’t heard that rich, boisterous laugh of his in so long, it made you laugh just by proximity.

By the end of the episode, he was finally done picking at the leftover food. You had finished a long time ago, but you liked seeing him sitting more relaxed in his chair, less on edge.

“Now that one was funny,” you said, when the end theme started to play. Ben balled up his napkin and tossed it on the table.

“At least Rachel’s hot, but don’t tell me she gets with that dopey-eyed pussy.”

“Aw, you mean Ross? I think he’s cute.”

Ben shot you a glance, his brows knitting together. You couldn’t help smiling as you sipped at your glass of wine. He got the feeling you were teasing him. (And you were.)

“Come here,” he said, hooking his foot around a leg of your chair. You yelped as he dragged you close enough to take you by the arm and tip you over, into his lap. You allowed it with a laugh and wrapped your arms around his neck. His hand slid up your thigh in your little pajama shorts, while you caressed his cheek and explored the new beard he was sporting. It was nice and trim, along with the smoother sweep of his hair.

“I like this, by the way,” you said. Your nails scratched through his beard playfully. You kissed his cheek. “Very handsome.”

Ah, there it is, the reappearance of that smug smile of his. You decided to take it down a peg.

“I didn’t mind the lumberjack though,” you teased. “I knew no one would recognize us with that shag carpet on your face.”

Ben’s face fell into annoyance. He stood, picking you up along with him. After he brought you over to the bed, he fairly dropped you down onto it, making sure to smack your ass for good measure. You squealed with laughter.

“You wanna fucking sass me? Fine,” he said, raising a brow. “I’ll just have to punish you.”

“Nooo, don’t do that. I’ll probably like it,” you said, with both amusement and desire glinting in your eyes while you slid your arms around his broad shoulders. You slipped your legs around his waist as well, guiding his hips down against your already pulsing core.

Ben broke slightly, his amusement peeking through.

“I don’t remember you having such a smart mouth,” he said. You trailed your fingers across his cheek.

“I think you’ll learn to like it,” you said, shortly before you lured him into a kiss.

He fucked you well into the early morning, where you two finally got some sleep. Around mid-afternoon, you woke and ate and showered and continued to relearn each other’s bodies. You spent the entire day and night in that hotel room, recuperating and healing in your own ways.

Late that night, you rested in the crook of his arm while he smoked a blunt. You’d compelled one of the bell men to find some reefer. You knew it would help Ben sleep better, and it served to calm you down when anxiety threatened to choke you again.

It was never as bad as it was on the plane ride over, but sometimes it hit you at odd moments.

Are they coming after us? Does Vought already know we’re here? Will they try to ship us back?

You knew you had been careful, but anything was possible.

You extended an expectant hand. Ben took one more puff before he handed the blunt over. You puffed a couple of times and passed it back with a cough.

“I still don’t really like this shit,” you said in distaste.

Ben chuckled. “You still don’t know how to smoke it, either.”

You sighed in amusement, stroking a hand over his thigh absently. You two hadn’t bothered getting dressed in hours. Cheers played on the TV—something you both could agree on.

“I need to check in with my family,” you said after a while. You missed your brother especially. God, your nephew had to be close to fifteen years old by now. The thought made your eyes water, but with a deep breath, you managed to taper it down.

You turned to the man beside you. “Do you…do you have family anywhere?”

Ben let out another long puff of smoke.

“Anyone who mattered is long dead,” he said. He looked down at you, meeting your gaze. “You’re all I’ve got.”

You smiled a little sadly, but you grasped his hand and threaded your fingers through his.

“But I’ve got a score to settle,” he said. The hardening tone of his voice concerned you.

“With who?” you asked.

Ben reached over to the nightstand and put out his blunt on an ashtray. He shook his head.

“Everyone,” he said lowly, “in that goddamn Tower.”

You frowned. You released his hand so you could turn over and face him.

“Ben, I know how you feel, but think about this for a second.”

“It’s all I’ve been thinking about since we got out of motherfucking Siberia,” he said tersely. “Those cocksuckers are gonna pay for what they did.”

You took a steadying breath. “Okay, taking on the team is one thing. But Arthur, Stan Edgar, all of Vought? It’s dangerous.”

“And? Don’t try to tell me what I can’t fucking do,” he barked.

You glared at him, sitting up and taking the blankets with you to cover yourself.

“Don’t you fucking snap at me!” Your voice cracked just as firmly as his. “I’m trying to tell you to be careful. Because if not, we could wind up exactly where we were before, or worse. And I told you, I can’t…I can’t go back.”

You began to break down at the end there. Your lips trembled as your anxiety bubbled over, making tears spring to your eyes. They stung hot and escaped the corners of your eyes.

“Ben, I can’t—” you hiccupped.

His brows were furrowed, his jaw clenched, but now, it was less so in anger. He took your face into his hands like he had on the plane, so you’d focus on him.

“Hey, hey,” he said, earning your attention. “That’s never gonna happen. I’mnot gonna let it happen. But I am going to put all those spineless bastards into the fucking ground where they belong.”

He wiped at your tears with his thumbs. After a brief pause, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to your lips. Then another, a reassuring kiss on your forehead.

He pulled back to earn your gaze.

“Then we take it all back,” he said. “You and me.”

It took you a moment to come back to yourself. You were still apprehensive about this plan, but you knew you didn't want him to do it alone. Nor did you want to end up alone, without him. You sniffed and nodded.

You and me.

AN: 😮‍💨 Did you get hit in the feels? If yes, get ready for more of that. But after their long journey back to the U.S., their relationship is shifting now, hopefully in a more positive way (despite the tough road Ben is setting them on).

Also, there might just be a BMD easter egg in there somewhere. Did you catch it? 😉

Next Time:

More heart-to-hearts, more of "the Plan," and we get a bit more into Ben's side of things...

What time is it? It was hard to remember to keep track of that now, even with the digital clock on the nightstand. It was only midnight, but to his body, it felt like morning.

You were dead asleep. Occasionally you let out soft hums, and other semi-arousing sounds. His lips tugged upward. Still moans in her sleep.

He drew down the comforter and sheets slowly from your back. He was greeted by smooth skin, except where some marks had been made permanent. His fingers traced carefully over a rough, scarred patch of skin above your hip, as if you had been tased there repeatedly.

His jaw clenched. He could still remember the sounds he used to hear—your screams through the walls of the compound. He remembered when you eventually stopped begging for it all to stop.

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annwrites · 3 days

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trick or treat one-shot collection.

— pairing: jacaerys velaryon x twin!reader

— type: modern!au | (part of a collection)

— summary: jace purchased for you a fun new toy that resembles a jack-o-lantern.

— word count: 1,573

— tags: twincest, oral (f receiving), use of a vibrator, pillow humping, mutual masturbation, handjob, french kissing, lotus position, cumming on stomach, fingering

— tagging list: @emilynissangtr @aemondwhoresworld @cecestea

Once you’ve come in from retrieving the afternoon mail, Jace is almost immediately in your face about it.

“Anything for me?” He asks, towering over you with an eager expression.

You raise a brow as you sift through a couple colored envelopes that look to be junk mail, a postcard from your cousin Laenor with a boat on the front of it, and then you find what Jace must be after: a small black box, wrapped up with tape that has playful pumpkins and candy corn printed along it.

“This?” You ask, gripping it in your hand.

He nods, but you snatch it away as soon as he goes to grab for it, a grin spreading across your lips.

“What do you say?” You ask in a sing-song voice.

He sighs. “Please?”

You pretend to think for a moment, then shake your head, hiding it behind your back. “What do I get if I give it to you?”

He leans over you, pressing the front of his body to yours—his cock jabbing against your stomach.

“What’s inside,” is his simple reply as he yanks it away from you.

Now curious, you follow Jace back to your bedroom, and he nods for you to shut the door behind you.

You do so, watching as he takes a box cutter from a cup that hangs on the pegboard mounted over your desk, and he cuts the small package open.

He dumps the contents of it onto your bed, and you pad closer, looking it over with furrowed brows.

There’s a small instruction booklet, and another even smaller box.

He opens said box, then pops open plastic packaging before dangling something round, orange, and rubber—or maybe silicone—in front of your face. And then he twirls it around with his fingers, and the face of a jack-o-lantern greets you with a smile.

From the tail he’s holding, you’re fairly sure you know what it is.

“A vibrator, Jace?”

He takes a step closer to you. “What? You don’t like it?”

You take it from him, looking it over. And then you click a small button and it lights up and begins to vibrate in your hand, confirming your suspicions.

You glance back to your twin brother.

He nods to your bed. “Lie down.”

You do as he says and he leans over you, hooking his fingers under the waistband of your leggings before tugging them down your legs.

You get to work on removing your shirt and bra, dropping them onto the floor, then spread your legs.

Jace sits on the edge of your bed and runs his fingers between your folds.

You sigh, throw your head back against your pillows, and he begins to circle your clit with his index and middle finger, and your body jerks in response.

You bite your lower lip, quietly whimpering, and Jace runs his other hand down between your breasts before gripping you beneath one of your thighs. He then grabs your other hip as well, and pulls you closer to the edge of your bed before he kneels on the floor and shoves his face between your legs.

Your eyes flutter closed while you lace your fingers in his curls, pulling him impossibly closer to your hot, pulsating core.

Your twin moans, sucking on your clit, pushing his own pants down to free his throbbing erection.

“Jaaaace,” you drawl, arching your back, grinding your pussy against his mouth and he smirks, kissing your lips before spreading them with his fingers so he can tease you with the tip of his tongue.

It’s when he has you panting and gasping for breath that he finally stops.

Jace stands, and pushes his own pants down his legs before stepping out of them.

He grabs your new toy and rubs it against your dripping entrance before gently easing it inside of you.

Once it’s disappeared entirely—only the silicone tail visible—he grabs the tiny remote that came with it, and he switches it on before adjusting the vibration settings.

He sets it to intermittent, which causes it to buzz for a few seconds before pausing, then pulsating inside of you.

You tangle your fingers in your hair and Jace seats himself on your desk chair, watching you while he strokes his long, weeping cock.

“Oh, God, Jace…” You whisper, keeping your legs spread impossibly wide so he can have the privilege of watching you.

You turn onto your stomach, arch your ass, and shove your face into a pillow while you moan in pleasure.

Jace leans forward, staring at your pussy, pressing the remote again, and the vibration ramps up.

You clench the pillows under you, wiggling your ass, desperate for him.

“You never told me whether you like your present.”

You’re practically drooling when you turn your head and whimper your reply. “I love it.”

He grins. “I can tell.”

You sink down onto the mattress again, shove a pillow between your legs, and you begin to grind against it, wanting for relief, but also wanting to make you and your older brother’s fun last.

Jace lowers the intensity of the toy and you groan in irritation.

You sit up then, keeping the pillow between your legs, and you turn around to him.

You watch him while he watches you, and the two of you can’t help but smile at how naughty what you’re doing really is. But that’s what makes it such a treat.

Curls fall down your naked back while you bite your lip, staring at his cock, before gazing into his eyes.

He stands, padding toward you, and he cups your cheek. “You want to come?”

You nod fervently—your clit now swollen and pulsing from how good it all feels.

He gently pushes you back, tossing your pillow aside, and he lies his body atop yours, rubbing his cum-soaked tip against your pubic mound.

He ramps the vibrator all the way to its highest setting then before pushing the remote onto the floor and crushing his lips to yours.

You reach down, take his cock in one of your hands, and stroke him rapidly.

You wrap your legs around his back, whimpering and whining all the while—kissing him sloppily with plenty of tongue as your free hand roams along his naked form.

He toys with your breasts, runs his hands down your thighs, tugs gently on the tail of the vibrator, then cups your face in his hands while he kisses you passionately before he finally sits up.

He pulls you into his lap and wraps his hand around yours which holds his cock, helping you help him.

Sitting at a new angle shifts the toy inside of you and you gasp loudly, nodding your head while you tangle your fingers in his hair. “Right there. It’s good. So good.”

You press your lips back to his, so, so close to orgasming.

Jace’s cock twitches in your hand and the two of you smile slightly against one another’s lips at the feel.

“Where d’you want me to cum?” He drawls.

“All over me,” you whisper with a giggle.

You bite his lower lip gently, then suck on his tongue, wishing it were his cock buried in your mouth instead—cumming down your throat when he finally reaches his finish.

Maybe you’ll try those new flavored condoms he bought soon so you can happily drool all over him.

You move your lips lower, kissing his neck while he wraps his arms around you, holding you close, and you move your mouth higher, kissing his forehead while you push hair away from his face.

He slides his hands down to your ass, smacking it gently, and you begin to rock your hips, clenching tightly around your brand new toy, knowing you’re nearly there.

Jace’s balls begin to tighten and he pulls away, pressing his forehead to yours. “I’m about to.”

“Me too,” you whisper between wanton whines.

You lie back then and Jace takes himself solely in-hand, stroking furiously overtop of you.

His head is thrown back, and his eyes are closed while sweat beads on his forehead.

You reach down, circling your clit, running your palm down, along the coarse, dark hair that litters his thigh.

“Cum on me, Jace. Please. Please cum all over me. I want it so bad.”

He nods, biting his lips. “Fuck—nearly. God…”

And then he lets out a long, deep sigh and warm, thick cum begins to spurt out the tip of his red cock, landing on your stomach.

You start to giggle happily before throwing your own head back—moaning his name while you orgasm.

You squeeze so tightly around it that your vibrator pops out, landing on your duvet.

Jace quickly kneels yet again, pulling you roughly toward him while he grabs either side of your labia, spreading it apart so he can watch as your cunt contracts wildly.

Once it's begun to calm, he shoves his face back between your legs, licking you, drinking your juices, shoving his fingers between your tight, squishy walls.

You’re only able to bear it for a moment before you ask him to stop.

“Jace, stop. It’s too…too sensitive. Mm, please.”

He kisses your inner thighs lovingly then, his own cock no longer twitching and straining.

He lies down next to you and pulls you into his side.

“At least I know it was worth every penny now,” he mumbles into your hair.

You nod, smiling contently. “It was.”

#fic: hotd (jacaerys velaryon x reader)#jacaerys velaryon fanfiction #jacaerys velaryon x you #jacaerys velaryon imagine #jacaerys fanfiction #jacaerys velaryon x reader #hotd x oc #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #hotd fanfiction #hotd fanfic

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ahedalshaer · 2 days

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✨An emergency🚨📣, please stop for a moment, a story of life and death✨

We all know that winter is coming, and for a year we live in tents. Last winter, we were in our homes in Rafah, but this winter our homes were destroyed, and we have nothing left except a tent made of fabric, which does not protect us from the cold of winter or the heat of summer.

Do you know how difficult it is for a person to remain without shelter for an entire year, without a house, without walls to shelter and cover him? Today I am writing to you and I hope that you will help me and my family under these circumstances. You know that war merchants have raised the price of nylon, shades, and waterproof tents. The price of one tent is approximately $1000, and this is something beyond our capacity, and we do not have the money to buy even one meter of nylon.

So today I am writing to you to help me and my family before the arrival of the winter season to buy a tent to shelter us from the rain and the cold. We want to reach the goal of 10,000€ before the arrival of winter and the bitter cold. Donate even if it is 20€. Every small amount when collected becomes a large amount and we benefit from it and save our lives before it is too late.

‏That summer comes to you and you endure temperatures that reach the point of melting inside a tent made of poor nylon and you cannot stand inside it for more than two minutes? I imagined this, This is what we live and suffer from, but for how long?? No water, no electricity, life is very stressful, it has exhausted us, We don't want a life like this, we want to survive, your help is what will save my life from all this, just please put yourself in my place and if you feel for me just help me By donation, This is my only refuge, you are our only hope in this life

I have no choice but to support you in this difficult time. Dear friends, you can support my family either by donating or sharing my campaign link with others so that the goal is reached sooner, please help us. We are so tired and no one is looking at us. Please help us. If you can't donate, post the account Help us, we need you to spread our story to the world.. Listen to my voice to the whole world .

Verified By:

#butterfly effect project line No. 407

@moayesh @el-shab-hussein

account tag::

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daughter-lilith · 2 days

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❅In Every Life❅

Halsin x Fem!Reader | Modern AU, Parallel Universes Part 4 | Read Part 3 here

Summary: Another day on modern Earth as you finally wind down for the late night in your quiet home. All is as it should be. All is normal as you prepare for bed. That is, until a tall, hulking man with pointed ears shows up at your doorstep claiming to be your lost love from another time and realm. But he’s a stranger. A stranger who forever changes everything you thought you knew about your life.

Explicit 18+

CW (For whole story): Blood, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Tension, Oral, P in V, Shifting, Pain, Love, Halsin is Emotional!

Word Count: 6k

A simmering heat bubbled in your core, hot and powerful. The electric sparks fueled you, firing throughout your body, charging you with an incredible force that waited to be unleashed. You were magic incarnate. The Weave merged and flowed within you. You remember now, the phenomenal power that has been a part of you since childhood.

The echoes of shouting and weapons clashing finally pulled your attention away from yourself. Scanning the area, you gasped as blue and purple nebulae surrounded you, an endless space of brilliant cosmic collections. Floating rocks of various sizes were scattered all around, with the largest rocks nestled in between or on the ancient bones of fallen gods; and the areas with the flattest surfaces were crowded with battle. The Astral Plane.

But what were you doing there? You looked across one way, noticing a large portal where githyanki soldiers occasionally streamed out of, weapons drawn. Above you, red dragons soared ferociously, each flap of their wings like a hurricane. Some had long black streaks painted along their sides, and the others, seemingly on the opposing side, went without a mark. The dragons roared and clawed, battling each other across the Planes.

You noticed a familiar rider on the back of a red dragon with a long black streak, Lae’zel. You remembered what she once told you before battle, that those markings represented the dragons on your side. Even from a great distance, you could see the ferocity in her pose, and the rage in her eyes as she effortlessly directed her dragon in battle. She was always a force to be reckoned with, on the ground or in the air. But if Lae’zel and the red dragons were here, then this was the—

“You will see no ascension!” a mighty voice roared, piercing across the Plane. It sounded ancient and powerful, dripping with hatred. Vlaakith. The glowing, yellow eyes of the Lich Queen glared at Lae’zel, who was flying side to side, dodging various attacks of lightning and thunder.

Your heart heaved, stomach tightening as full awareness was flooding back into you. It was the battle where you, Halsin, and your friends agreed to help Lae’zel with. All but Jaheira had joined you, as she settled into the life of being a grandmother, finally putting up her daggers. But she sent a large band of Harpers in her place, her daughter among them.

You had years of peace after the defeat of the Absolute, but the tyrant queen still lived. It was the one thing that Lae’zel could never truly move past, especially since she was forced to occasionally defend herself over the years, being hunted down by those who still blindly followed Vlaakith. Lae’zel never gave up on her rebellion, itching to help her people once and for all, but she needed the aid of her closest friends. Vlaakith was a threat to the githyanki, and if her reign continued, it wouldn’t be long before all non-gith fell under her control.

A familiar voice reached your ears, frantically calling your name. “My heart! Rise!” You promptly turned towards the call to find Halsin, his bright eyes concerned with how you lingered on the ground, seemingly out of it. He started to move towards you but was cut off by three gith monks who jumped in front of his path.

A flash of golden light raced over his tall body, and the roar of a great bear emerged, large claws swiping at one of the monks. A blaring war cry filled your ears, and you noticed Karlach, who was dripping with fire as she charged towards Halsin’s aid, axe raised high.

Heart pounding, adrenaline surged through your veins as you finally began to rise, suddenly feeling the weight of something heavy at your back. There was a sound of something scraping against the stone as you stood, and you remembered the longsword strapped at your back, eager to be used once more.

“Ooh, glad to see you remembered how to use your legs!” someone near you said, the sarcastic speech you could recognize anywhere. You turned to see silver-white hair and blaring red eyes, stimulated by the heat of battle. Astarion, daggers raised, whirled around four of his attackers with immaculate finesse. “Now, darling, a little help would be lovely!”

You grinned, feeling the crackling energy in your fingertips growing stronger. You ordered him to dash far off to the side as you raised your hands high. Feeling the electricity surging down your arms, you eyed four of your targets who were prowling toward Astarion. Before they could get within dangerous range of him, you threw your arms forward as a rush of invigorating power escaped you with great force. “Perurē!” Streaks of crackling blue lightning sprouted from your fingers, instantly shocking all four giths on contact. All four immediately succumbed, weakened from earlier assaults.

Astarion sighed, dusting off his pants then bowed dramatically in your direction. “Well that’s more like it.”

You smiled, scanning the area to better assimilate to what else was going on and how everyone was doing. You remembered this moment, feeling it like the way you would déjà vu, except it wasn’t some quick fleeting memory. You were simply there. The battle in the Astral Plane was happening all over again.

You felt something behind you, a presence leaping towards you fast. Quickly, you withdrew your longsword, noting the orange flames that danced along the blade. Spinning, you swung the blade in time to lacerate clean through a large gnoll, its eyes glowing deep pink. Charmed, you realized. But now, its gaze darkened, lifeless, as it slumped to the ground, its severed body partially sizzling from the sword’s flames.

Satisfied, your eyes continued to sweep the area, taking in how the rest of your friends were faring. All around you, hordes of allies and enemies clashed. Lae’zel still soared above you, occasionally taking on Vlaakith herself with a few githyanki at her side, but she was consistently forced to evade more than she could attack. For now, though, she held strong while the rest of your allies held on the ground—or the suspended rocks at least.

Your heart pounded in your ears as you searched for your druid, wanting to fight at his side. Karlach was still raging, a hellish force to be reckoned with. And instead of finding the enormous bear beside her, you saw a massive, feline beast biting down on the neck of an enemy gith, two extremely long incisors pulling away from a bloody throat. You could easily recognize the gold in its eyes as your lover, who had apparently shed his bear form for a swifter, fiercer, saber-tooth tiger. Halsin dashed across the rocks, leaping with pristine grace, his jugular strikes always true.

A swell of love and pride spread across your chest as you watched him, roaring and merciless. It had been a very long time since the two of you fought like this, having only faced minor dangers since defeating the netherbrain. The usually stoic, calm elf, who had grown accustomed to long, peaceful days, had not lost his vigor. Blood pumped faster through your veins at the sight, and a pleasurable spark flickered in your lower abdomen. Should you survive this and the two of you reclaimed your solitude, you’d leap for him, wrapping your legs around his waist and lose yourself enveloped in his massive arms, not caring to wash away the blood of battle first.

Halsin seemed to sense your eyes on him because mid-run, he stopped, turning his head in your direction. His chest was moving rapidly as crimson stained his once white, dagger-like canines. He stared at you intensely, golden eyes piercing into yours from across the plane. His long tongue swiped slowly over one of his blood-soaked canines and you gasped at the sight, certain he was detecting your thoughts.

“Halsin,” you murmured, breathless. As though he could hear you or read your lips, he let out a soft guttural purr, starting to march towards you.

But a sudden bright light pulled you out of your arousing trance, and you turned towards the source as another spherical portal emerged some distance away. Dozens of gith started pouring in, and given the color of their armor, they were no friends of yours. They were running in the direction of Gale and allied gith fighters who seemed too preoccupied to notice.

“Gale!” you shouted, repressing all former desires and refocusing on the battle at hand. The wizard immediately looked at you, eyes determined. “Behind you, cut them off, now!”

Gale swiveled around at the charging gith soldiers who were running up the inner rock that was more of a wide tunnel with a ceiling. Bright flames illuminated Gale’s arms, and in a quick sweeping motion towards the giths’ direction, he threw his arms up. “Ira!” he bellowed. Instantly, a column of flames sprouted from the ground, spiking towards the ceiling, immediately torching the few unlucky gith who were caught in the middle of the spell’s path.

The fires effectively cut the rest off, leaving Gale to deal with the other side. Sensing he would soon be overwhelmed, you sprang off the rock, soaring high in the low gravity, and landed with a divine smite to the first enemy who was unfortunate to be in your way. You easily fell into a natural dance, shifting between slicing and cutting to throwing fire bolts and thunderwaving enemies away from you whenever you began getting overwhelmed.

“Ira et Dolor!” You heard the incantation through the chaos, catching a luminous green light off to your left. Shadowheart, mace swinging, ran through the field as a floating circle of green, necrotic guardians flew around her as she weakened and injured all foes who breached her circle.

With her at your side, it helped lessen the number of foes, and you did your best to help her from getting knocked out of her concentration. You then turned your attention to the sound of a familiar, joyous laugh. Wyll, rapier held high, wielded the weapon with clean precision, fluid like Astarion, but unique to him.

The former Blade of Avernus, now Duke of Baldur’s Gate, still fought like he hadn’t missed a day over the past twenty years. His hair was longer, twisted halfway down his back, swaying with him as he dodged and weaved. But despite his unwavering skill, he was sidetracked by a thundering blast from his side, throwing him on his back. Wyll shook his head, clearly dazed.

An enemy warrior approached Wyll from behind, and your heart skipped as you called on your energy, aiming to teleport in the form of mist. But before you could, another shout from Shadowheart. “Ex Textura!” A large, spiritual greatsword rose from the rock, behind the impending warrior who stalked towards Wyll. With a great, sweeping arc, its radiant power struck hard at the gith warrior, forcing them to their knees.

You looked back at Shadowheart, sweat spilling down her forehead, who simply grinned at you before turning her attention elsewhere. Back to Wyll, you proceeded to teleport near his side. With flaming hands, you thrust hard against the fallen warrior’s chest. Wyll, back on his feet, took hold of his rapier and slashed it cleanly across the gith’s throat.

“Appreciate the assist,” Wyll breathed heavily, his smile never waning. Spots of blood dotted his face and long coat, and he gave his rapier a brief shake. His beard was fuller now, with a few sporadic strands of silver peeking between his dark hair.

“Of course.” You bowed, playfully. “But we had a little help.” You nodded towards Shadowheart, still surrounded by the ring of guardians. You lived for moments like these during battle, where you found a chance to quickly banter with one another before falling back into the dance.

And dance you did.

Bellowed spells, arrows flying, and swords clashing echoed in the great Astral Plane. The would-be god was not falling easily for she was as impressive as Lae’zel warned you all she would be. Lae’zel was once a devout follower after all, and knew only of the strength and power the tyrant queen possessed. But Vlaakith would fall today, she had to.

Exhaustion began to mount within you, your muscles burning with the consistent grip you had on your sword. The heat from the red dragons occasionally clouded you, their fires nothing to be trifled with.

Finally finding Halsin again, this time he had fully dismissed his wild shape, the tall elf swinging his shadow blade in a long arc. Halsin’s hands glowed with a bright light, and he threw his hands forward then did a slamming motion. A beam of pure moonlight struck down from an unknown place, seemingly ignoring the fact that they were not beneath the moon or stars but rather floating in an otherworldly place among them. It seemed Selune’s light could still reach this plane.

You couldn’t help but smile at him, though he was too focused to notice. Your legs carried you on, tired but moving. The world spun around you as you fought, sometimes finding yourself at Halsin’s side before being separated once more. You’d briefly lock eyes, making sure the other was okay before pursuing the dance.

You were breathing heavily, giving it all you had, everyone was. Your energy was beginning to wane, only allowing you to cast the most basic spells. You tapped into your core, feeling the warmth within you, the ancient magic passed down through your ancestors, it would not fail you.

“You alright there, soldier?” Karlach appeared on your left flank that was left wide open.

Before you could answer, another presence on your other side joined you. From the corner of your eye, you noticed large, bulging muscles, thinking it was your druid. But a different accent left their lips.

“Ahh, you wouldn’t let this party go to waste, no?” Minsc moved closer, bumping your side lightly with his arm. “Move your legs, my friend! The battle rages! The false god meets her end today! Isn’t that right, Boo?” A series of light squeaks followed his inquiry.

You chuckled, taking a deep breath, a new resolve rising within you. With your towering friends at your side, you shouted battle cries and charged back into the fray. In time, finally, the battle was turning in your favor by drastic numbers. You had brought the would-be god to her knees as you, Gale, and Shadowheart stood the closest to her but still a decent distance away. On the other rocks, the rest of your friends and allies were clearing out the other gith, the ones who refused to flee. The rest of you watched Lae’zel land with her dragon, an earth-shattering thud. You all observed her eagerly, waiting for her to end this.

Lae’zel’s dragon, whose saliva dripped with red fire, stalked towards Vlaakith who lay wounded and considerably damaged. “We will be your thralls no longer!” Lae’zel snarled, her eyes frenzied with rage.

She shouted a command at her dragon who made a thrusting motion with its back. With the rapid momentum, Lae’zel leaped off its back. Silver sword in hand, she vaulted through the air with feline grace, a streak of ferocious fury, and brought down the glimmering blade directly through Vlaakith’s chest. A piercing cry left the Lich Queen’s throat as dark blood, almost black, splattered from her lips, proof that she was still just a mortal in the end. A string of cursed words left the fading tyrant’s mouth which only encouraged Lae’zel to twist the blade. Another moment, and Lae’zel withdrew, stepping away from the fallen queen who collapsed forward with a hard fall.

Lae’zel stumbled back, breathing heavily, her yellow eyes wide with shock that this was all over. It was finally over. She turned around on semi-shaking legs, catching your eyes first. The grip on her sword started to waver as realization swam over her. You nodded your head, half-smiling as your chest rose and fell rapidly.

Then, a shadow of movement behind your gith friend caught your eye. The long, skeletal arm of the fallen queen lifted, and a silver blade materialized in her hand. Eyes widening, you acted without thinking, using the last bit of your energy to misty step at Lae’zel’s side, shoving her out of the way. In the same second, a sharp, stabbing pain blasted through your core, your entire body seizing under the shock. A choked gasp left your throat as the desperate sound of your name cut across the plane.

Instinctively, you looked in the direction of Halsin, who was sprinting towards you with a desperate, terrified look in his eyes before he shifted midway towards you in his considerably faster saber-tooth shape.

A string of curses dripped from Lae’zel’s throat, venomous. “Aghh! Vlaakith hta'zith! Die!”

You were faintly aware of a violent slashing sound, then a crowned head tumbling away from shoulders. Your legs felt numb, knees weak. And just as you were collapsing, a bright flash momentarily blinded your vision.

The light subsided. You blinked rapidly, looking around to still find yourself standing in the Astral Plane, but something was different. You felt different—lighter, no longer reeling from the scathing pain, in fact, there was no pain at all. You heard a sound, something of a strained cough, and glanced down to find yourself on the ground, your other self. Ejected from your body, you stood in shock, watching the other you from the outside, like a spirit watching itself.

You looked down at yourself, cradled in the strong arms of your lover, a blue light flowing from his hands. Halsin was on his knees, begging you to hold on, pouring all of his magic into you. Your friends ran to you both, frantic, everyone who could heal desperately trying to transfer what magic they had left into your declining body. Still standing, you tried to speak, but in this disconnected form, you were deemed silent, an invisible witness.

Your physical form looked up at Halsin, and you felt your heart breaking despite no longer being attached to it. “Stay with me, my heart,” Halsin pleaded, voice thick and tight with fear. “Please.”

You watched yourself weakly raising a hand to cup Halsin’s cheek as blood and sweat tinged his face. As you spoke, a line of blood trickled from your lips. “In every life,” you murmured, smiling sadly at your greatest love. “I’ll find you.”

Halsin covered your hand with his own, shaking his head, refusing to accept this. “Oak Father help me, please.” His voice trembled as he felt the life in your body waning. “A portal!” he shouted at no one in particular. “Open one, anyone!”

But the Astral Plane was too fast, already claiming you barely a minute later. You felt yourself slipping away as you watched your body fade into golden, sparkling dust, flying out into the vast spaces before vanishing entirely. Halsin fell over, no longer having you to hold and a pained wail escaped his throat.

It was then, in your ethereal form, that you took the chance to look around at the fallen. But there were no fallen. Every person, enemy or ally, had ceased to exist, only their weapons were left behind. Your breathing was coming in rapid waves, panic momentarily blurring your vision. You glanced back down at Halsin who was staring at his empty, blood-soaked, trembling hands. The very same hands that held you only mere moments ago.

“Halsin?” Shadowheart cautiously spoke, her face crestfallen.

Halsin suddenly threw his head back, arms flexed, and the loudest, fiercest cry bellowed from the depths of his broad chest. It cut through the Planes, a beacon of the deepest agony and ire, powerful enough to put Karlach’s rageful, barbaric roar to shame. Your heart shattered at the most sorrowful sound you’d ever heard, and you ached to reach for him, to touch him.

“My Halsin,” you cried, dropping to your knees beside him as he fell forward again. “I’m here. I’m right here.” You moved to throw your arms around his neck but your ghostly form passed right through him. You glanced at your hands, defeated, watching a misty blue aura outlining your arms.

“Oh, Halsin.” Karlach dropped to her knees, throwing herself around the weeping elf. Blue flames flickered over her skin as she sobbed profusely, resting her head on Halsin’s shoulder.

Wyll followed suit, coming on Halsin’s other side and stretching his arms around him as wide as they could go. Shadowheart snuck beside Wyll, crying quietly as she leaned her weight over the two, resting her hand on Halsin’s back. Gale stood nearby, eyes glazed over in shock, his staff carelessly dropped near his feet. Astarion, who usually detested expressing any sort of vulnerable emotion was redder in the eyes than normal, tears staining his cheeks as he paced back and forth, fangs bared, erratically waving his hands.

Minsc held Boo close to his chest, kneeling near Halsin with their heads bowed. And Lae’zel was muttering a string of curses, frantic, angry, shouting your name over and over again. You watched her glistening eyes, spewing threat after threat at the fallen Vlaakith, cursing her to a terrifying and tortuous afterlife.

But as Halsin continued to weep, his fists balled tightly, Lae’zel’s ranting finally seized and she collapsed directly in front of the defeated druid. Blood smeared her arms and chest as she tentatively reached for Halsin, placing a trembling hand over his knee.

Lowering her head, she choked back tears, fighting the threatening dam. “It should have been me… Vlaakith—” she choked, pausing for a moment. “That was my death. Mine.”

You shook your head at her even though she could not see. You would do it again for her, for anyone in front of you. And there wasn’t a single doubt that they wouldn’t have done the same in return.

Without lifting his head, the druid responded. “Do not say that.” Halsin sounded distant, sniffling as he spoke.

Lae’zel said nothing after this, only allowing herself to cry freely, bowing before Halsin. Everyone remained quiet, save for the sounds of constant sniffing and the heavy, unstable breaths Halsin made. Gale and Astarion now huddled as close as they were able to get to the large elf. Your heart both broke and swelled at the sight. You hated that you had to leave them behind, to leave your beautiful, amazing, love of your life behind. But you also smiled sadly, feeling a sense of peace knowing that at least he wasn’t alone. He still had his family.

With one final attempt to touch Halsin, a sudden torrent of wind opened up from behind you. And in an instant, taking one last glance at your family, you were sucked into another strange portal. This one was void of visions and considerably faster than before. Blue lights rushed past you, quickly dimming and fading into darkness.

Then one violent, gasping breath later, cool air rushed back into your body like you had just reached the limit your lungs could no longer take. You fell forward slightly, blinking rapidly as your vision cleared. Gone was the rocky surface and starry surroundings of the Astral Plane, replaced by cool, ceramic flooring. You noticed a familiar cloak covering your arms - no- not a cloak, but a robe. You were kneeling on your kitchen floor, suddenly aware that you were being partially held up. Your stomach flipped, a fierce and untamed nervous excitement. If you were back in your kitchen, in your body, then that meant— “My heart, are you alright? What happened?” a familiar, deep voice graced your ears.

You leaned back, lifting your gaze to find Halsin searching yours, worried and panicked as he studied you. A blue light faded from his hands as he observed your appearance.

A shaky gasp left your lips as you took in the form of the druid, the softness in his eyes, the love that flourished deep within them. He looked almost the exact same as he did in your vision—memory— but gone was the blood and sweat, replaced by a more tired, stress-induced elf.

He said your name again, lifting one hand as if to cup your chin but stopped midway, cautious, as though still unsure of what contact was too much. So you made the choice for him, reaching for his face, taking him in. He seemed surprised for a moment but didn’t hesitate to lean into your touch, though a level of concern still lingered in his eyes.

“My Halsin,” you whispered fondly, holding his gaze, watching the ever-increasing surprise in his eyes. “You came for me.”

Halsin was breathing fast, and you could feel him starting to tremble. “You- you remember me?” he breathed, taken aback.

You nodded slowly. “Everything.” And as you said the word, all of your memories pulsed in your mind, like a reminder that you weren’t dreaming, it all happened. “I saw everything. My life in Faerûn…our life.”

A distant, ghost of a tickle entered your brain. It was like your life in Faerûn was just as much a part of you as your current life on Earth. Memories were shared equally. Your time as a high elf for over two hundred years mingled with your time as a human for a considerably lower number of years. All of your friends’ faces were clear as day, the many races of Faerûn, as well as your Earthly friends, just as much a part of your life. How strange, you thought. Your two lives merging rather than fighting for dominance. But you didn’t question it further, for now, choosing to focus on the elf before you. The one who never stopped caring for you. The one who crossed dimensions to find you.

Halsin, who was clearly at a loss for words, slumped forward, head hanging low. You saw him trembling and could feel the parts of relief and shock consuming him. Your heart beating rapidly, you smiled and slowly rose to your feet. Halsin stayed still, staring towards the floor, lightly clinging to one of your legs which loosened your robe some more.

With a featherlight touch, you reached down and slid your fingers beneath his chin, gently urging him to look at you. Lifting his head, his eyes glistened lightly as he looked up at you, a soft frown curving his lips.

“Oh…my sweet bear,” you whispered, stroking your thumb over his chin.

Your heart skipped one beat, then another at the sight below you. This massive, beautiful man completely and utterly shattered for you. You felt heavy with empathy at the genuine relief in his eyes that slowly pushed through years of anguish. Halsin was staring at you with pure reverence, devotion, love. He looked into you the way one would a goddess, thankful for your delicate care and attention, silently begging that you’d allow him to be consumed in it forever.

Halsin’s strong arms fell to his sides, suddenly feeling weak as he looked up at you, unable to believe this was happening. It was what he had hoped for. What he had dreamed, prayed, and longed for. He didn’t know exactly what to expect when showing up at your doorstep, but just a few minutes ago he had succumbed to the idea that he would have to leave. He would leave to make things easier for you because the truth overwhelmed you, frightened you. And more notably, you hadn’t remembered him. As much as that truth stung, your mental well-being meant more to him.

But kneeling before you now, he saw it in your eyes. The same eyes that he had lost himself in thousands of times before. You were right there. You remembered him. And as if reading his thoughts, you spoke again.

“I remember all, Halsin,” you reaffirmed, your sweet voice caressing his ears. “Now, come here to me.” You loved this view of Halsin kneeling before you, the assembly of emotions in his gorgeous eyes. But you were ready for more of him, you needed more.

You smirked down at him as a wave of urgent excitement swelled within you. Halsin chuckled, briefly, taking one last look before he rapidly rose to full height in one quick motion. You almost stumbled at the force of his large frame now towering over you again, but his arm was quick to curve around your waist, keeping you steady.

Your eyes darted between his and then at his parted lips. With silent confirmation, you both surged towards each other, closing the space between you as your lips met in a deep and tentative kiss. Together, your lips moved gradually over one another, each peck and pull rising with purpose. A groan rumbled from his throat, the familiar sound causing a rush of heat to your core. You kissed like you were reacquainting yourselves with one another, exploring the taste of the other’s lips.

For you, it felt like it had only been a few hours and simultaneously years since you last kissed Halsin. Another strange way your memories of your old life collided with this one. You could only imagine how Halsin felt, for it had literally been just over a decade for him. The mere thought made you want to lean into him more, to mold yourself into him, reassuring him that you were back, that you were there.

Halsin’s grip on you increased as he tugged you in closer until he felt the poking of your hardening nipples against him. A hot, electric charge spiked up his back as he kissed you feverishly, taking in the softness of your lips again. He groaned again, feeling you smile against his lips as you started to kiss him even harder. He returned the vigor, kissing you deeper, faster, encouraged by your exploring hands traveling up his rigid biceps and reaching around his neck before threading through his hair. A soft moan drained from your lips and Halsin felt himself twitch, abdomen tightening, nearly forgetting how incredible such a sound was from you. He longed to hear more of it, to be the one who encouraged it, loud and angelic from your supple mouth.

Halsin’s breath was hot against yours, his warm, woodsy scent consuming you. Chills spread all over your body, quickly soothed by the heat from his large physique. His large hands roamed over your thighs and up your back, leaving a tremor of shivers in their wake. The intensity of his kiss was growing ever more ravenous, burning with the heat of a thousand fires. Your needy hands found their way tugging at Halsin’s forearms, and following your signal, he quickly unstrapped and discarded his arm gloves without ever breaking the kiss.

Your nails ran down his fully exposed arms, gripping around hard muscles, feeling his skin prickle beneath your touch. Halsin groaned again, further stoking the fires within your pelvis. You slid your hands along his firm abdomen, sliding them upward towards his chest, wishing there was no fabric blocking you from his heated skin.

Your faces constantly tilted from one side to the other, consumed by each other’s mouths, wanting to taste one another as much as possible. Halsin’s tongue dragged along your bottom lip and your lips parted wider, eagerly inviting his tongue inside. You gasped as strong hands lifted you and the world quickly spun until your bottom was placed securely on the countertop. Halsin’s knee spread your legs wider as he settled in between, his lips still roughly on yours.

In this position, you easily felt a stiff bulge pressing against your stomach, causing your core to flush with heat. Your pulse quickened, suddenly remembering just how large Halsin was, thick and growing fuller by the moment. Desperately, you tugged him closer to you, pressing your still-covered breasts into his chest while one leg wrapped around his waist.

Unexpectedly, a light taste of salt touched your tongue as it continued to dance with Halsin’s. Soon after, a warm drop of fluid fell on your bottom lip, trailing down to your chin. A sudden break in the kiss had you both gasping for air, your lungs finally free to take in all the oxygen they needed.

Halsin’s forehead leaned against yours, your warm breaths mingling together. You opened your eyes and found him already staring at you, eyes shimmering under the dim light. A flicker of gold flashed in his irises before darkening again. Slight worry gripped you as you leaned back to see him better, but he kept his head bowed. Thin streaks of fresh tears trailed down Halsin’s cheeks as he proceeded to catch his breath.

Halsin smiled shyly, glancing away for a moment. “It would appear I am feeling…” he took a deep breath, shivering, “…a bit overwhelmed.”

Halsin’s heart was hammering in his chest, his blood so hot he could practically feel it simmering in his veins. His whole body felt like it was on fire in the most pleasurable way possible. To be standing there before you, the greatest love he’s ever known, who not only remembered him but still felt just as passionate as he was. Years of love and grief came crashing into him in full force, barreling into the years of loneliness he spent without you.

And then, to feel your touch again, to taste your lips, it was all so much and still not enough. His emotions needed to be free, to escape his body and help ease the unbearable flames. So he cried as he kissed you, feeling his cheeks burn as each tear was marked with the love he had for you. A love that never waned, that could never be replaced by another.

He watched you analyzing his face, imagining how sorrowful he must have looked. But you simply smiled at him, lifting both of your cool hands to his cheeks. “My Halsin,” he heard you whisper, and a tingle pulsed down his back. He had to remove his hands from your hips, placing them on the counter to steady himself. Oh how he loved it when you said his name that way, your Halsin. Another reassurance that you had truly returned to him, still claimed him.

Halsin stayed still, his arms resting at your sides while he let you take your time exploring his face. Your soft hands held his cheeks as you leaned upward, placing gentle kisses at the corners of his eyes. He shivered at your touch as his fresh tears were captured on your warm lips. The tenderness of your thumb stroked his cheek as you tilted your head to finally kiss his mouth again. Halsin leaned into you with ease, tasting his own tears, sighing against your lips. This time, however, the kiss was softer, slower, your deep breaths still coming down.

You pulled away from Halsin with a quiet smack of your lips, placing a hand over his pacing heart. It beat rapidly within his broad chest, strong and powerful. You could feel the passion he had for you, the equal level of anxiousness and enthusiasm to be with you again.

“My sweet Halsin,” you whispered, and Halsin focused on you, ready to hang onto your every word. “How about we take our time? We have the rest of the night, and the sun rises late in the winter.”

Halsin chuckled softly, nodding at your suggestion. He was torn between wanting to crash back into you again, to pull you into his body in another tight and greedy embrace. It had been so long since he last felt you, since he last had you, that he scarcely knew what to do with himself.

But perhaps you were right, perhaps it would be wiser to pace yourselves, though the desire relentlessly burned inside of him for more. His breathing began to level, and his eyes ceased new tears. He would take it slow with you… for as long as he was able to at least.

A/N: Whew, I honestly can't handle sad/emotional Halsin, I'm so sorry!

Next post is the final😔. But even longer than this part! Can't wait to share as soon as it's ready!

#halsin x reader #halsin fic #halsin x tav #halsin x you #halsin fanfic #bg3 x you #halsin imagine #halsin x female tav #halsin fiction #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #halsin x fem!reader #halsin x oc #halsin

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firenati0n · 3 days

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hello friends :) i am so sorry i have been...so behind on all things tag games and writing challenges. i have been riding the struggle bus and i am Doing My Best but a lot of things have suffered in the meantime, like writing consistently. thank you so much for continuing to tag me in these, it means a lot that people think of me or read my work. i will always be grateful for my friends and readers and everyone who shows me kindness. anyway, many thanks as always! <3 much love for y'all.

i have been posting random prompt fics and drabbles here and there, while slowly updating people ruin people as inspiration strikes. I also made a fun graphic for proposal au and people ruin people! i hope to get back into the swing of things soon. not rushing it though, because rest is important. but i don't do well with stillness, you know? I'm not used to that. but i hope y'all have enjoyed the random words in recent weeks! i have written some things I'm very proud of and happy with in the prompt collection especially. and people ruin people is truly a stretch of my writing muscles...I'm not used to angst. but it's fun! it's hard, too. but so far people have been very kind about it!

here's a long snip from a flufftober prompt for ingredients and spells, it will be a little sequel / extension of the kiki's delivery service au / warlock!henry and baker!alex i posted a while back!

Henry is eight, and he can’t sleep. The trees outside are too big, their shadows too scary in his window as the wind makes the branches thump against the glass. He rubs at his eyes before digging his head in his pillow again, hoping sleep claims him. From underneath his door, light filters in from the hallway—his mother is probably in the kitchen, grinding herbs and ingredients for her potions. If there’s anyone who can help him, it’s her. “Oh, my little love,” she says, when Henry walks into the kitchen, knowing he looks as miserable as he feels. “Are we having trouble sleeping?” He nods. “I have just the thing.” She flits around, grabbing leaves and powders from the cupboard to grind before mixing everything in a pot. The smell of chamomile and honey fills the kitchen, warm and comforting. She pours the potion into two mugs and hands one to Henry with a soft smile. “This should help, my darling. Here, I’ll drink it with you.” They both sip their drinks in comfortable silence. Henry can already feel the magical effects of the brew in his body, limbs starting to sag, head feeling heavy. His eyelids flutter, and Catherine notices. “Up we go,” she says, before putting the mugs in the sink and scooping Henry up in her arms. He is warm, and he is safe, and he is sleepy. After he’s all tucked in, duvet up to his chin, he sneaks an arm out to clutch his mother’s shirt as she moves to get off the bed. “Please,” he pleads quietly. "Not yet." She settles in next to him, slender fingers carding through his hair as she hums. He drifts off, the smell of tea and honey blanketing him. He never learns what was in the brew. Catherine calls it her secret recipe, just for Henry.

xoxo roop

+ open tag + tagging back everyone who got me in the past few weeks. it's been a while afjslkdjfklasdf

@seths-rogens @sherryvalli @sophie1973 @orchidscript @cha-melodius

@whimsymanaged @kiwiana-writes @alasse9 @porcelainmortal @wordsofhoneydew

@firstprincehornyramblings @run-for-chamo-miles @miharaikko @blueeyedgrlwrites @onthewaytosomewhere

@cultofsappho @ninzied @sparklepocalypse @clottedcreamfudge @zwiazdziarka

@clockwrkpendrxgon @milowren29 @thesleepyskipper @msmarvelouswinchester @caterpills

@suseagull04 @judasofsuburbia @getmehighonmagic @onward--upward @stellarmeadow

@welcometololaland @indestructibleheart @miss-minnelli @thedramasummer @priincebutt

@incalamity @stratocumulusperlucidus @leaves-of-laurelin @14carrotghoul @anincompletelist

#roop writes #wip wednesday #rwrb #rwrb fic #red white and royal blue

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potato-lord-but-not · 17 hours

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once again being annoying in ur ask box bc i have more things to say <3

EVERY TIME I WAKE UP TO YOUR ART I SCREAM AND GIGGLE AND ROLL AROUND IN BED LIKE A SPARROW IN DUST. DO YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN. SEEING UR DRAWINGS GIVES ME THE MOST INSANE EUPHORIA, THAT'S LITERALLY ALL I WANT MY ART TO LOOK LIKE EVEN THOUGH MY STYLE IS COMPLETELY DIFFERENT AND I SUCK AT CARTOONISH STUFF I WOULD LITERALLY KILL TO BE ABLE TO DRAW LIKE YOU. I SHOW MY IRLS YOUR ART ON A DAILY BASIS. EVERY TIME YOU INTERACT WIT MY POSTS OR ANSWER MY ASKS I EXPLODE INTO A CLOUD OF GLITTER. YOUR DOODLES ARE SO SILLY AND I SWEAR IT DOESN'T MATTER WHEN I SEE YOUR POSTS THEY ALWAYS INJECT ME WITH SHEER PRIMAL RABID JOY <3333 I SAW ONE THE OTHER DAY AFTER A 5.6 MILE CROSS COUNTRY PRACTICE WHEN I WAS ABOUT TO JUMP OFF A CLIFF BUT HTEN I SAW SILLY HUMAN JOHN AND OSCAR AND IT WAS CURED AND I WAS INSTANTLY REJUVENATED!!!! okay enough all caps my pinky hurts from holding the shift key down. i'm on my hands and knees begging my mother to let me buy better alcohol markers because mine are coughing and wheezing a collective death rattle and they are simply NOT SUFFICIENT to try to attempt ur coloring style. ALSO. our human johns are like literally twins??? giggling kicking my feet the way you draw him is so lovely and precious and gorgeous and stunning and marvelous and perfect and adorable and beautiful 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶 he looks so squishable i think he would give the most marvelous back cracking soul healing hugs ever. AND OH MY GOD. MIGHT BE GIVING MYSELF AWAY BUT WHATEVER. YOUR BUTCHER DESIGN RGAHFHSLJDLJ I HAVE NOT BEEN NORMAL ABOUT HIM EVER AND I YAPPED ABOUT HIM TO MY LESBIAN FREIND (SHOWING THEM YOUR ART OF HIM) AND SHE DOESNT GET ITTTTTT HES SO AMAZING I NEED HIM TO TIE ME TO A CHAIR AND RIP MY FINGERNAILS OF(the pipe bomb under my chair goes off)

ahem. anyways. that concludes today's insanity. my sincerest apologies, it will happen again <33333 i think ur art is gonna get me through this school year

asks that heal your ailments and cleanse your soul— I need to tag this as something niche so I can find it again when I’m feeling down and need some encouragement from izel I mean from this random anon <3

#I don’t agge anything coherent to say except THANK YOU ????????? SO MUCH ?????#I was gonna ramble in the tags but I have a funnier idea hold on #ask #butcher malevolent #<- so I can find this later cus there’s not as many posts on my blog about him (sorry)

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hippotooth · 3 days

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OC Deep Dive Questions

Thank you for the tag, @theameba1436 ! This was fun to think about and answer!

I’m not sure who’s done this already or not, and no pressure of course, tagging:

@d-saster-chron-cles @dirgecomic @geckogeckogecko @sunflowergem @adorablebanite @archduchessgortash @mj-bites

@erme-aeterna-arts

Anyone else who sees this and is interested please feel free to join in too! I love getting to know the details of everyone's Tav/Durge.

Questions/Answers for my beloved durge ~Tuatha~ under the cut

What common/uncommon fear do they have?

Tua’s biggest fear is that she is unlovable and that getting close to her only brings suffering.

Do they have any pet peeves?

People being indecisive. She loses patience quickly when people dither about – particularly if someone changes a plan that’s already been committed to.

What are 3 items you can find in their bedroom?

A collection of fancy perfumes, neat looking bones, a well-cared for plant.

What do they notice first in a person?

Physical threat – Tua’s first assessment upon meeting someone is how easily she could take them in a fight, if they’re armed, etc. – like Mac’s Ocular Patdown from IASIP.

On a scale from 1-10, how high is their pain tolerance?

10 – Tua handles pain easily, she’s quite used to it. She’s trained as a monk and has supreme body/mind control which she can distance herself from her body easily when anything gets too intense.

Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure?

Fight! Tua likes to fight and is often looking for an excuse to start one. She’s a resist durge, she tries to be ‘good,’ (if only to gain approval from others) but if she feels there’s any way she can justify the bloodshed, however flimsy the excuse, she’s happy to do so.

Do they come from a big family/are they a family person?

Tua is a durge character. She never knew her mother and was bounced around between foster families in Baldur’s Gate for most of her childhood. Many of these families were abusive towards her and she was eventually taken into the Bhaal temple after killing one of them. She does not claim any family.

What animal represents them best?

Mongoose!

What is a smell they dislike?

Tua doesn’t like the smell of cities – she gets overwhelmed and irritated by the fusion of smells you find in them – cooking odors, waste, animals, wells, smoke – all these smells individually are fine but their fusion in an urban setting offends her.

Have they broken any bones?

Many at various points, she doesn’t remember most of them.

How would a stranger likely describe them?

Off-putting and intense. Tua vacillates between being very intense and smiley when trying to appear friendly or intensely withdrawn. She has very limited social skills.

Are they a night owl, or morning bird?

No preference! I’d say most consistently she likes transitional hours, like dawn and dusk.

What’s a flavor they hate and a flavor they love?

Tua adores bitter flavors and her favorite food is leafy greens. She hates the taste of fatty meat.

Do they have any hobbies?

Tua likes collecting perfumes and the fancy bottles they come in. She initially started stealing them from her victims as a trophy – she enjoyed bathing herself in the scent of her victims, being able to walk amongst the city cloaked in a symbol of her kill with no one the wiser. Once Gortash noticed this hobby he took to gifting her luxurious perfumes as well.

Tua also like keeping dangerous animals as pets, gnolls are a particular favorite of hers. She spends time researching different creatures and doing experiments to see how they may survive in captivity.

Boom, surprise birthday party! How do they react to surprise?

“You like me, you really like me!!” Tua would be very happy anyone cared enough about her to throw her a party. She would probably cry.

Do they like to wear jewelery?

Tua enjoys jewelry, however, she finds it can be a hazard while fighting so she rarely wears it. She normally has some stud earrings in. She likes to steal jewelry and gift it to her lovers, she enjoys dressing them up.

Do they have neat or messy handwriting?

Extremely messy.

What are the two emotions they feel the most?

Shame and longing

Do they have a favourite fabric?

Linen – breathable, easy to move and fight in, easy to clean

What kind of accent do they have?

The standard in-game accent

#hippotooth talk #OC Tua

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wonswondrland · 3 days

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4 months were not wasted!

warning! vulgar language + wirtten! (wc 368)

i paced the foor of my room, my brain running 100 miles per hour. he was so cold. was he going to break up with me? was he coming to apologize? my mind raced playing out every possible scenario until i heard a knock on the door. deep breaths. opening the door, i immediately locked eyes with riki. “hey,” he said softly walking inside, taking off his shoes. he made himself comfortable on the couch as i bit my lip nervously, not knowing what to do with myself. “um do you want anything to drink? or a snack?” “no, i’m okay i just want to talk and then i’ll be on my way.” i sat down next to him and placed my hand on his. “is everything okay?” he sighed, running his hand through his hair. “i got some texts from giselle. she told me some things about you,” he paused, collecting himself. “and you’ve been hanging out with renjun, a lot and i just… i don’t know that we should continue dating, kl.” my heart shattered into a million pieces. “renjun and i are just friends,” i stopped fighting tears, “what did she say to you? what made you think this? why?” i immediately began to feel the tears flow down my face. “look i don’t believe majority of what she said. i know you broke up with jungwon and she tried to make you seem like you were crazy and obsessive. i know it’s not true but… i just feel that you are not ready for a relationship.” now he was starting to cry. i wiped away his tears pleading my case. “riki, i am. i love you. please, riki.” the apartment fell silent. the sound of the ac flooded my ears. i sat still staring into riki’s eyes, tears spilling from our eyes. after five minutes of silence and sniffles i finally nodded. “okay. i’m sorry riki but i do love you. please understand that.” he wrapped his arms around me, kissing my temple. “i love you so much kl. let’s just stay best friends okay? i don’t want to throw all these years away.” i stayed still crying into his chest, accepting the heartbreak.

Eyes Off You

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taglist! open :) (purple means i can't tag you)

@sthinqsz @hwalllllllelujah @lovelymura @ja4hyvn @wonamour @tomorrowbymoa-together @luviehyck @chloexc @w0nslvr @electrobutterfly @kgneptun @nikiswifiee @heeseungspookie @jwonistic @pshwrldd @enhabooks

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yolli-es · 10 hours

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Please, I'm really sorry

Tags: NO spoilers for season 2, sadness, rude treatment, mentions of death

I doubt this is in character, so treat it as a silly sketch. Writing text is harder than headcanons..

MY ENGLISH IS BAD AND THERE MAY BE MEANING ERRORS

You adore Jinx; you love and tolerate her. Your acquaintance was unexpected, and your subsequent friendship was spontaneous. You were choking with tears after losing your mother when she found you. This girl saved you so easily, as if it were so easy. Jinx never told you about the past, but when the voices in her head became too loud, you didn't need an explanation. You saw how bad she becomes and what consequences it can bring. Afterwards, you promise yourself to always be there so that you can prevent the irreparable. This was not always successful.

After Silko died, things got really bad. Jinx tried to continue his work, to be strong and collected. But this is Jinx. Your Jinx. And she never was and never will be like this. Maybe that's why she's been so rude to you, taking it out on you because she's under so much stress. Sooner or later it will all end, and she will be able to look at you again without irritation.

You forgive Jinx for everything: the harsh words, the insults, the hits. Because she always apologizes after. And you don't care that it's not sincere at all. You love her; she is the only thing you have.

The day started out quite normally. You and Jinx were sitting in Silko's office, which is still called that way to this day, on the initiative of Jinx herself. It was all quite nice: she decided to share with you many thoughts about the future, which happened quite rarely. But then Sevika came in. And with her came terrible news. Shimmer production had been disrupted again. The enforcers blew up the plant, dealing with the guards there without any particular problems. And she just walked out after saying that. Just one look from Jinx made it clear how bad she was feeling right now,

"It's not your fault, and..." — you're interrupted by a rude "shut up." Jinx, who had been sitting on the table quite relaxed, now clutched her head, her eyes closed, and her breathing quickened. Just a few moments ago she was vulnerable, and now she's rude to you again. "You don't understand me at all," Jinx said in a breaking voice, hiding her face in her knees. It was painful to hear. We have been through a lot together. But she's worse off, and you step over yourself again: "I love you, Jinx. What do you want me to do?". You tell her this so often, so sincerely and naively. Her reaction to your words is always different; you can never guess, and now she again hits you: "I want you to stop being so useless and just help me." Jinx whispered, still struggling with her emotions. She hadn't let herself get angry, panicked, or sad that easily since Silko died. No tears. She kept herself under control. And is that what she thought all along? It's your fault; you're just doing a shitty job. Obviously, sitting here with her is not what she wanted. It looks so painful for you. The girl you love is suffering so much; why don't you just make it easier? That day you stayed, having endured many insults and a couple of blows.

Usually you stayed by Jinx's side, always supporting her and helping her with many tasks. For example, maintaining her authority in the city, keeping an eye out for possible rats nearby, and always saving your love from nervous breakdowns. But now you're by Sevika's side, at a shimmer production plant. You didn't tell Jinx anything; you didn't even think she would ask and worry. You need to act more decisively, as she wanted it. The task was simple: wait until the enforcers come here and destroy them. You were never a good fighter, just a decent shot. Your skills were enough to protect yourself on the streets of Zaun, but they were nothing against well-trained law enforcement officers. That's why you stayed on the sidelines, watching from above and covering Sevika.

You realized how much you screwed up with this shit when you found yourself in the middle of a shootout. Things didn't go according to plan when Sevika was shot, and now you had to save her. Letting the woman lean on you, you ran upstairs. The sounds of gunshots, explosions, and screams confirmed your fears: this plant is finished. Neither the shimmer nor the people were saved. Adrenaline was pumping through you, and you didn't notice anything except the cherished goal.

You reached a safe place and fell. The rest was like a dream. Sevika sat next to you, trying to close the open wound. She tied it with a rag, shouting something about the presence of shimmer nearby. The wound seems to be on your legs, chest, and head. It was painful and cold. Severe weakness. How the hell did enforcers get you? You couldn't think, let alone remember. This woman was shaking you, trying to make you think, but you had already given up. You had lost, and you had screwed up so badly, Jinx would never forgive you. Sevika shouted something, and you didn't really listen; you just couldn't. And then your gaze focused on a blue spot... Jinx? You wanted to look at her one last time. She may be disappointed in you, angry, or simply empty towards you, but all this will not matter as long as she is here. Your eyes closed for just a moment.

" ...orr..."—You can't see, only distantly hear. Such a nice sound; you've heard it before. The noise makes you open your eyes again. A flash of light disorientated you. Straining your eyes, you managed to make out a silhouette in front of you. It was Jinx, and... she was crying. She was in complete disarray, desperately holding your face. She bit her lips every time she wanted to swallow the lump in her throat and continue talking. She was talking to you. What was she saying? Your damn body is so weak. "Hold on, just breathe. Please, I'm really sorry. I love you, I love you, I love you...",-She repeated it over and over while you felt the shimmer being injected into your body. You wanted to calm her down, to say "I love you" back. And all you did was watch silently. Your eyelids were so heavy, and your body suddenly seemed too weightless. You were being yelled at, shaken, and pricked with a shimmer stabbed over and over. And you were too weak to respond to it, closing your eyes one last time.

Jinx sincerely apologizes this time. It's a pity that your mind was too weak to realize this.

it was short, unclear and stupid 🥴 Wrote this in a hurry while I'm taking a break from studying and writing other things.

#jinx x reader #arcane jinx #arcane x reader #arcane jinx x reader #jinx x fem!reader #jinx arcane #arcane netflix #arcane league of legends #arcane #jinx league of legends

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imogenkol · 3 days

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— WIP WEDNESDAY

tagged by @socially-awkward-skeleton and @neonshrike thank you lovelies!!

Sorry for the double Imogen x Bix today, but I am especially Unwell about them lately. Very first “I love you” anyone?

Bix got out of bed and collected her discarded clothes off the floor of the ship — clothes that Imogen had started to nearly trip over whenever she got up during the night — and dressed herself as she made her way to the vanity.

Imogen sat up and watched her mechanic freshen up for the day. It was a routine she witnessed a dozen times or so now, yet she drank in every detail and every movement until she knew it by heart. If she shut her eyes, she could calculate precisely when Bix would move on from washing her face to combing her hair.

That was her favorite part. Imogen was infatuated with the way Bix brushed her hair back before she braided or pinned it up. Perhaps it was the slight flex in her arms when she raised them. Or the perfect sculpt of her jawline and neck once they were exposed. Or the serene concentration on her gorgeous features as her fingers wove strands of dark hair with seamless practice.

“What?” Bix asked without a glance in Imogen’s direction. Right on cue.

A newer addition to her routine, though her tone had gradually shifted with each new day.

It started a little playful, like she expected Imogen to drag her back into bed for more of their intimate indulgences. Of course, that craving was always at the back of Imogen’s mind when she watched her. How could it not be? But lately, she started to watch her simply just to watch her — to admire her. An intention that neither had much experience with.

Then the question came out exasperated. Bix never did like it much when Imogen's eyes lingered on her while she worked. Or so she said. In reality, the mechanic did not appreciate the distraction while she was on the clock. During her own time, they rather enjoyed the little game of poking at each other until someone’s composure cracked and they would finally give in.

This was not one of those times. There were no expectations. There was no tension in the air.

For the past weeks, Imogen had no answer for her. She could not adequately explain why she felt so enamored by such a mundane scene and Bix grew impatient with her.

Imogen wondered if the explanation was more straightforward than she previously thought. She wondered if this was what love was — to be utterly fascinated by the most monotonous actions simply because the one who holds your heart is doing them. Because they turn the unextraordinary into extraordinary.

If that were the case, then she may finally have an answer for her.

“I love you,” Imogen said. Her heart leapt into her throat after the second syllable, and for a terrifying moment, she thought something far less pleasant might come up right after. Imogen swallowed hard and forced her jaw to clamp shut until the sensation passed.

Bix completely stopped partway through a braid and turned to look at Imogen as if trying to decipher if she had heard her right.

The sincerity of the statement was not in any doubt, but both women could not deny how foreign those three words sounded coming from the bounty hunter’s lips. They felt strange, even when she rehearsed the phrase in her mind. Imogen worried she did not fully understand the concept quite yet, but they had come this far.

Why not take another leap?

Bix’s expression softened into what Imogen could almost describe as a bashful smile and she returned her attention back to the mirror. “Have you ever said that to anyone before?”

Imogen rolled her eyes, though the relief she felt from the lighthearted jab coaxed forth the same exact upturn at the corner of her own mouth. “You know full well that I never have, darling.”

“You’ve said it to me in a hundred different ways, but kind of seem allergic to the word itself,” Bix replied matter-of-factly.

Imogen contemplated the statement for a beat. “Have the other ways I choose to express my devotion been inadequate?”

“No, not at all. I’m just…” She finished the braid and her hands dropped to her sides with a thoughtful exhale. “I’m still breaking through those walls of yours, I guess.”

Imogen rose from the cot and approached her lover with calm purpose, knowing that the unrestrained honesty of her next words will assure Bix that what she feared were walls were merely doors. And they would always be open to her from then on.

“Whatever love I had no knowledge of possessing is now entirely yours.” Imogen tucked a stray strand of the mechanic’s hair behind her ear and ran the backs of her fingers down her neck. “You are my love.”

“Say it again,” Bix murmured, intensely holding Imogen’s gaze as she leaned in ever so slightly. “It’s good to hear.”

“I love you,” Imogen repeated obediently. It came out easier the second time, but still felt like a brand new muscle to be flexed — one she was afraid to damage if she used it too often.

Bix grabbed Imogen by her hips, fingers slipping just underneath the hem of her shirt to brush lightly against her cool skin as she pulled her in. Imogen felt her blood suddenly rush hotly throughout her veins as if her whole body absorbed her lover’s warmth from such a small touch.

The heat bloomed into an all encompassing warmth once their lips met. Bix kept their cadence sweet and chaste. Imogen fell into it like a bath and allowed the other woman to lead the lazy push and pull. The soft sensations prompted the bounty hunter to part her lips in a silent invitation, which Bix answered by squeezing her hips and drawing her in deeper.

They slowly parted until their foreheads gently rested together. Imogen could feel their shared smiles even with her eyes closed.

“I love you,” Bix said softly against her lips.

The Force around them seemed to sing with those three words as they echoed in Imogen's ears.

tag list (ask to be added or removed!): @inafieldofdaisies @voidika @florbelles @adelaidedrubman @simonxriley @tommyarashikage @buggknife @aceghosts @carlosoliveiraa @risingsh0t @unholymilf @thedeadthree @cassietrn @jackiesarch @d-esmond @loriane-elmuerto @shellibisshe @katsigian @captastra @simplegenius042 @theelderhazelnut @g0dspeeed @strangefable @statichvm @kanos @cptcassian @greenecreek @euryalex @auricfog @e-the-village-cryptid

#ship insp: if i had a heart #oc insp: imogen kol #its a full moon so im even more unhinged about lesbians than usual #set a few weeks after they become 'official'#local repressed gay tries saying 'i love you' verbally for the first time after already being married and almost pukes #like. girl. it wasn't that hard. you've already sworn your sword to her and fucked with feelings.

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bucktommyfanfic · 3 days

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A list of BuckTommy fics posted on April 6, 2024

These fics are carefully read through to ensure that they are BuckTommy positive. Any listed works do not feature character/ship bashing (apart from the Buckley parents or Gerrard, who do not count). These fics may feature other mature or triggering content, so please read author tags and warnings carefully and don't forget to leave some love!

Fic Recs - Navigation Page – Send a Message

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at the station house table by kitthekazoo Oneshot | General | 464

Buck tells the crew about his boyfriend.

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Buck, Realized by @some-little-infamy Oneshot | Teen | 3308

A lot can change from a front door to a kitchen island.

Buck is about to realize that, and a whole lot more.

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'Deed I Do by @cauldronoflove Oneshot | General | 2334

Her hand flattens between his shoulderblades, he doesn't even think she realizes she's doing it, splinting him. The gentle application of pressure to relieve the strain and alleviate some of the pain.

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don't need to run the yellow by Alidravana Oneshot | Teen | 1196

“Buck?!”

The table cloths were that classic picnic stripe, bright red and white criss-cross, both matching and clashing with the brightly coloured dining plates that adorned their table.

A simple Margherita pizza for two following the best breadsticks that he had ever eaten, and now the two of them were debating dessert, Buck wondering if he had the courage to suggest that they actually split something. Like a real date.

But then a familiar voice pierced through the restaurant saying his name, and his name, which normally sounded so right coming out of that person’s mouth, suddenly had Buck feeling small.

He wasn’t ready for this.

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don't you worry none, just take it like it comes by Anonymous Oneshot | Teen | 789

When Buck accidentally leaves something in Tommy's car, it prompts Buck's coming out and his family seeing him love-struck in a way they've never seen before.

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Good with Your Mouth by wilddragonflying Oneshot | Explicit | 4176

Buck's in his first relationship with a man, and he's ready to learn about all the differences that entails.

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i'm not saying never by @jennypigalle Oneshot | Teen | 1338

“Do you wanna come up?”

“Putting out on a first date?” Tommy asks, and it could be suggestive, could be teasing, and Buck could bristle at the implications, but instead all it is is soft and affectionate, and he knows, Buck knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that sex is only going to happen if he insists on it.

Or, some moments after their first date

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I've had other lips, I've sailed a thousand ships (but no matter where I go you're the one for me, baby.) by @livelaughbuck Oneshot | Explicit | 5083

When it comes to dating Tommy, there are a lot of firsts Buck experiences. First kiss, first date, first boyfriend. He's dated in the past, of course he has, but this is different. Something new and unexpected. Something he wants to get right.

A collection of firsts.

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I've yet to be the king of my castle by elizaria Oneshot | Teen | 1320

Tommy enjoyed kissing Evan, too bad work came between. Good thing there's a date coming up because that stunned adorable look with those soft lips? Tommy just wants a big bite of that.

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Illumination by @les-pompiers118 Oneshot | Not Rated | 1261

Hen notices that Buck is a little distracted during their shift. Buck decides she's just the person to confide in about what happened at his loft last night. A little coda ficlet for 7x04 ("Buck, Bothered and Bewildered").

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it's a strange way of saying that i know (i'm supposed to love you) by @babyboybuckley Oneshot | Not Rated | 1699

Buck couldn’t help the small smile that crept across his face at seeing Tommy. He still couldn’t believe he’d acted like such a teenager a few weeks ago, and he felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude to Maddie in that moment for figuratively slapping some sense into him. Buck paused in the middle of the engine bay, letting the sense of comfort and home just wash over him, and he must have blinked for a moment too long because when he opened his eyes, Tommy was suddenly in front of him.

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just kiss me slowly by @capseycartwright Oneshot | General | 1026

tommy does this thing, when he kisses buck.

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Like a lightning bolt, your heart will glow by @aesthetictarlos Oneshot | General | 2204

Tommy walked out the front door ten minutes ago and Buck's still rooted to the spot, leaning against the kitchen island. His lips are still tingling from Tommy's soft kiss, and if he closes his eyes, he swears he can feel the phantom of Tommy's fingers tilting his chin up. Tommy– Tommy kissed him, and Buck has had his fair amount of kisses but he's pretty sure no one has ever kissed him with such reverence and tenderness before. It was brief and chaste, barely-there, but ignited something in his chest, a fire he hasn't felt in a while, maybe ever. - Or, the one where Buck's finally free and goes on a date with Tommy.

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Like Butterflies With Metal Wings, Tearing Me Up At The Seams (Letting All This Light Inside) by olistark (daxamsquarry) Oneshot | General | 604

Buck realizes that when walls come down, light comes in.

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like real people do by yourcatfishfriend Oneshot | Teen | 1016

Buck, after a kiss.

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My Forever by Bucksloverboy Oneshot | General | 1073

Moments where Buck realize that Tommy is his forever.

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Nightcap by @inell Oneshot | Explicit | 4366

After their first date goes a bit astray, Buck invites Tommy to his loft for a nightcap.

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No story I could weave would have ended like this by @daddy-kinard Oneshot | Explicit | 2410

“Interesting place for someone to get their mouth on you.”

Chimney scrunches his face in confusion, and it takes even Buck himself a moment to understand the dawning realization in Hen’s eyes. Because Buck’s tall and broad, and a bruise sucked into the space where the base of his neck meets the curve of his shoulder doesn’t make sense for any of the girls Buck’s previously hooked up with. Doesn’t make sense unless the person that gave him that bruise was behind him, tall enough for their head to fit over Buck’s shoulder.

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not a thing, but the lack thereof by @tiltingheartand Oneshot | General | 658

Buck’s beer is still cold.

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Quell My Soaring Thoughts by finbish Oneshot | Teen | 1129

Buck knows he’s falling in love with Tommy, but he won’t allow himself to admit it.

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Ready or Not by lwcast Oneshot | Teen | 1715

Tommy doesn’t know Buck isn’t out.

He stops by the 118 to surprise him.

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rebirth by @renecdote Oneshot | General | 752

“Bisexual,” he says aloud, just to hear himself say it, to taste the way it feels on his tongue not just as a word but as an identity. It feels like an exhalation, trembling at the edges but not just with fear, or excitement, but with relief. He thinks of that first breath of air when his head came above water in the tsunami, he thinks of being struck by lightning, he thinks of stepping into Station 118 for the first time, he thinks of catching the Jeep keys Maddie tossed him in the dark of a Hershey street all those years ago. Buck knows what it is like to be reborn, but he has never had a kiss make him feel like this before.

Buck introspection, post 7x04.

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set ourselves free by @filet-o-feelings Oneshot | General | 785

That was new. He thinks so, anyway. He may have to examine some prior interactions with other men. Has he been flirting with Tommy this whole time? Has he ever flirted with another man? He tries hard not to think about Eddie as he examines this.

This isn’t about Eddie. Hell, this isn’t even about Tommy, not really.

This is about Buck. Evan Buckley, who is currently realizing some things about himself that he’d never considered before, but they’re making a hell of a lot of sense.

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Step 1: Slow, Steady Hands by TrustDivineChaos Oneshot | Explicit | 1627

After spending the day together, Buck invites Tommy back to his place…even though the butterflies in his stomach are making it hard for him to take their relationship to the next level.

(Takes place after they’ve had at least a couple dates together; i.e. this is not the outcome of the “Saturday” mentioned in episode 7x04)

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stick with me baby, i'm the fella you came in with by @kirkaut Oneshot | Teen | 1989

It takes him a few tries and most of the date to get the words out.

It's all very start-stop and stilted, but they just keep tangling on his tongue or catching behind his teeth before he can form an actual sentence.

Tommy doesn't push, though. Tommy waits him out, all patience and understanding and yeah, maybe a little bit amused. But he doesn't push, so Buck is eventually able to get it out all on his own.

“I've, uh, I've never.” He stops, and swallows dryly. “I've never…done this before?”

---

Buck and Tommy go on that date. Buck does his best not to 'Buck it up.'

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Teach Me New Things by @jesuisici33 Oneshot | Explicit | 1899

“Found it,” Tommy sounds so smug. His fingers keep rubbing that one spot inside Buck. That one small part of his mind that still has the capacity to think is now understanding all those women he’s been with when they kept demanding right there, more, and don’t stop.

“Fuuuuck! God, holy shit, fuck!” Buck moans. “Is that-is that my G-spot?”

“You mean your prostate?” A chuckle escapes Tommy’s lips. Buck loves the sound of Tommy’s laugh. Would want to hear him laugh at Buck like that if it meant he kept touching Buck right there for the rest of his life. “You like it?”

“More. Don’t stop, keep going,” Buck can only respond. He’s pretty sure there’s drool coming out of his mouth. He’s too out of it to care.

Or, bucktommy smut, because we deserve it

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third time's the charm by @gregorygerwitz Oneshot | General | 1594

Buck and Tommy's first date takes three tries to get it right. After the first two attempts result in an awkward double date that only two of them knew the details of, and a three year old giggling at an animated movie every five minutes, Tommy finally figures out the perfect solution.

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To Be Free by heartofash Multichapter | Teen | 5184

“It's like I’ve been looking for something I didn’t even know was missing but then-then it was there right in front me and it felt so right and I just kinda went-” Buck’s voice breaks “oh.” - Picking up directly after 7x04, Buck comes out to his family.

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What Do I Do? by Sonayesul Oneshot | General | 1789

Buck comes to Maddie after his kiss with Tommy, worried he's going to mess it all up. He's never dated a man before, what if it's different than being with a woman? Maddie talks it out.

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when we were younger, we didn't how it would be by xhaoticghost Oneshot | Not Rated | 2409

"Tommy is strong and masculine. He's bigger and taller than Buck, and although not by much, it's enough that Buck has to strain his neck and push his face upward just a bit when Tommy leans close to him. His stubble scratches against Buck's chin when he kisses him."

Buck kissed a man. Well, he was kissed by a man. Buck was kissed by Tommy Kinard. Buck is fine about that, he's not freaking out. Not at all. (Thankfully, he knows someone he can call for help.)

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You Need To Calm Down by StarrySummers04 Oneshot | Teen | 1383

Buck's world had been turned upside down when Tommy kissed him and he didn't know what to do so why not call TK Strand, the firefighter turned paramedic that he met once for advice?

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#bucktommy #tevan #buck x tommy #bucktommy fic rec #bucktommyfanfic

20 notes · View notes

annwrites · 3 days

Text

trick or treat one-shot collection.

— pairing: jacaerys velaryon x twin!reader

— type: modern!au | (part of a collection)

— summary: you & jace watch a scary movie together in private.

— word count: 901

— tags: twincest, ass-grabbing, fondling, fingering, nipple-play, masturbation, french kissing

— tagging list: @emilynissangtr @aemondwhoresworld @cecestea

You’ve just finished loading the dishwasher when Jace pads into the kitchen and retrieves the orange juice from the fridge, taking a swig directly from the bottle.

You scoff, coming to stand in front of him. “That’s so gross, Jace. We all drink from that. Why don’t you use a cup?”

He slides it back onto the shelf, shutting the stainless-steel door before leaning back against a counter, smirking at you.

“You think me shoving my mouth onto that is gross?”

You flush, shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

“Just use a glass next time,” you reply quietly.

You turn to head back to your room, until Jace grabs your ass, causing you to squeak in surprise.

You swing around, lightly slapping his hand, and he grins.

“What if mom or dad see?” You hiss, barely above a whisper.

He shrugs. “I’m sure one of them would understand. There’s always been those rumors about mom and great-uncle Daemon from when she was around our age.”

You take a step closer, narrowing your eyes at him. “Exactly: rumors. What do you think they’d do if they found out that we’ve been—”

He slides a hand down your arm, interrupting you. “Find out we’ve what? Like neither of them have ever walked in before,” he says sarcastically.

You throw your head back, groaning. “Not since we were little. So, at the time, that was the excuse.”

You level your gaze again. “That we were just young, confused, and experimenting. So we didn’t know it was ‘wrong’.”

Jace takes your hand, twines his fingers between yours, and he leads you back to his bedroom—past the living room where your mom is folding laundry and Joffrey is sitting on the floor watching Bluey.

Luke is currently outside playing while your dad works on the family car.

“Because it wasn’t,” he finally whispers, guiding you down the hall.

Jace shuts his bedroom door behind the two of you and he turns his TV on.

You sit back on the futon pushed against the opposite wall of his room, watching out the window as golden-brown leaves drift down.

“Do you want to stream something, or watch a DVD or blu-ray?” He asks, grabbing the remote from his bedside table.

You shrug. “You choose.”

He sits down beside you then, opening Netflix.

Half-an-hour later finds Jace lying on his back with you half on-top of him and your face half-hidden against his chest.

“Why’d you have to pick a scary one?” You whine, peeking at the flat-screen from between your fingers.

He slides a hand up your shirt, gently toying with your breast. “So I can do this.”

You roll your eyes. “You can do that without giving me nightmares.”

His lip twitches. “Well, at least this way I’ll get to have you crawling into my bed halfway through the night.”

You lightly shake your head, then gasp quietly. “Oh God, why’d she go in the closet? It’s going to find her!”

Jace snorts, so you pinch his nose in retribution.

“It’s not funny!”

He shifts underneath you then—his erection pressing firmly against your stomach, causing a pleasant warmth to bloom between your thighs. “I think it’s hilarious.”

You slide your hand under his shirt and he hums in interest…until you twist his nipple.

“Ow! Really?” He asks, turning to glare at you.

You then press your lips to his, nodding with a smile. “Mhm.”

He wraps his arms around you then, before turning the two of you until his body is lying wholly on top of your own.

You spread your legs so his pelvis can rest comfortably between them.

You sigh as Jace nips his way down your neck, flicking his tongue against your sensitive skin, and you moan, grinding your hips against his erection, and your twin quietly curses.

You roll your head to the side, looking back to the TV, and your eyes widen. “Jace, I hate this movie. Why’d you—”

You promptly shut your mouth when you feel him tugging your shorts off, choosing to instead watch as he tosses them across the room before he slowly sinks his long fingers between your hot, wet folds.

“Why’d I what?” He asks, circling your clit with his thumb.

Your mind goes fuzzy, unable to concentrate on anything that isn’t Jace, Jace, Jace…

Your eyes flutter closed and you hum happily, smiling warmly at the feel of him. “Nevermind.”

He pushes your—rather, his—t-shirt up, exposing your perfect breasts, and he dips his head, his matching brown curls to your own tickling your skin as he begins to lap at your nipples, gently sucking and rolling them between his teeth while he continues to slowly finger you.

He lifts his head, glancing back to the TV while he slips his free hand under the waistband of his boxers beneath his sweatpants—stroking himself.

“Maybe we’ll watch The Exorcist next,” he says with a grin.

You stare up at him from beneath hooded lids. “I didn’t sleep for two nights last year when you made me watch that one.”

He leans down, brushing his lips over yours. “And think of all the fun we had not sleeping.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, easing your tongue into his mouth, not having a reply, since you know he’s so very right.

It had been a lot of fun.

Everything always is with your twin brother.

92 notes · View notes

3-2-whump · 2 days

Text

Mistaken Accusation

<prev

Well, let's get into it. Beginning of the end. Special thanks to my beta readers @whumped-by-glitter and @generic-whumperz ! Do mind the tags, and enjoy

This chapter does reference The Hit, so please skim that first if you are not already familiar with it

Author's Note: This is where shit gets real (more real, that is), and where the author may make some decisions that might not vibe with the readers. To those readers, all I will say is fanfiction is a thing, canon divergence is a thing, and I will honestly be more intrigued than mad if you end up scrapping this part and writing your own version! (Just lmk, like tag me or dm me so I can see?) But, um, yeah, onto the chapter!

TW/CW: description and mention of STD, prostitution whump, mock execution, gun violence (brief, but there), collared whumpee, bound and blindfolded whumpee, shock, emotional whump, fear of death, pissing oneself out of fear, emotional angst, degrading language, toxic relationship, manipulative whumper, possessive whumper, intimate whumper

As Khaled relieved himself in the office bathrooms near the end of the day, he hissed under his breath at the burning sensation coming out of him. That can’t be good, he thought. What would make it feel like he was passing acid or fire down there? He looked down at his dick, eyes widening a little as he saw how inflamed his urethra looked. Khaled let out a mortified little squeak. What’s wrong with my penis?

Should I tell Master? Telling his master that he suspected he’d caught something would only lead to probing questions about Khaled’s sex life, even though he wasn’t the one who had visited every whorehouse within the tristate area. Probing questions about his sex life would mean admitting that he was sleeping with Julio, and admitting that he was sleeping with Julio would only fuel his master’s possessive side and make things far worse for him. Khaled could imagine no situation in which he would come out unscathed if he told Thomas about it. So, he decided not to tell him.

He didn’t have to endure his secret for long though, because as soon as he came back into his master’s office, he could sense the energy had changed.

“Is there something wrong, Boss?” Khaled asked nervously.

“I have just received information from our foot soldiers and informants that the motorcycle that my would-be assassin rode when he got away came from Alvarez Auto and Motorcycles, a known front of Juicio Divino,” Thomas gritted out.

Khaled’s jaw dropped as his mind slowly put together the pieces that he had in his hands all along. Of course, it was Julio, how could I be so blind?! he thought. Just over a year ago, Khaled himself approached the scrapyard assassin asking him to teach him how to kill, and had been crawling back to him in various states of distress ever since. Julio was one of two people on earth who knew how badly Thomas actually treated him, and, combined with his overprotective tendencies, Khaled mentally beat himself up for not suspecting his boyfriend sooner.

His master’s stormy gray eyes narrowed at Khaled in a piercing glare as he pushed his tablet across the desk. “Incidentally, you have been visiting Alvarez Auto pretty frequently over the past year, haven’t you?”

Khaled’s stomach twisted in dread as he leaned in closer to read it. There, opened on his slave tracking app, was a map with pins of most-frequently visited locations he had been tracked to, and there was a damning bright red pin at the address of Julio’s garage. His mouth went dry as he opened and closed it in shock, trying to collect the right words to say as the opportunity to beg for mercy slipped through his fingers like sand. “I- Master, I- it’s not what you think-”

The older man disdainfully held up a hand, a nonverbal cue that he didn’t want to hear it. Khaled shrank in on himself. “How did you even pay for a hit against me, huh?” the boss asked. “I know you haven’t made that much money since I’ve started paying you! How could you afford to put out a hit?” His voice lowered to a growl. “Did you bend over for that cholo son of a bitch? Did you let him fuck you like I fuck you? Is that why you’ve got an infection –don’t deny it, Khaled, it hurt when I pissed this morning!”

The world seemed to stop as the air quickly left Khaled’s lungs. Wait, what? He was being accused of conspiring against his master, then of being a whore within the same breath? And to make matters worse, he somehow gave his owner an STD before he realized he had one himself? His breaths came out shallow as his body began trembling in fear. What does this mean for me? What’s going to happen to me? He nearly passed out as his imagination went wild with how severe his punishment would be. “Master, please, I had no idea-”

“Shut up!”

Khaled ceased his begging instantly, a nauseous wave of dread coiling in his stomach as he waited for his master to dole out his sentence. “You will never see anybody besides me again,” his master said, glowering at him in contempt as Khaled’s eyes widened in horror. He got up from his chair and circled around Khaled, with a familiar black shock collar and a length of chain in hand. “I’ll give you a chance to say your goodbyes before we leave.”

Khaled regained enough of his senses to shake his head and back away from the man approaching him. “But, Master, I didn’t-”

The world snapped to the right in a stinging blow as Thomas backhanded him. Khaled rubbed his sore cheek and winced in pain. “You’re lucky I don’t outright kill you, though I still might, if you keep whining like that!” he yelled. Khaled turned silent and sullen, still cradling his sore cheek as the collar tightened like a noose around his throat. “Now, come on, let’s make your final goodbyes count.” His master attached the chain leash to a notch in the shock collar and pulled Khaled towards the exit.

Khaled was pulled through the whole office and out to the guard shack like that, stopping periodically as his master made him explain what was going on and why he was leaving to everyone they met. Khaled’s voice was shaking like a leaf the first stop they made; by the time they made it to the guard shack, he was unable to utter anything intelligible past his tears. Nico’s jaw dropped as Thomas explained what had happened and why Khaled was never going to see him again.

“But, he didn’t do it, sir!” he objected, pushing himself out of his desk chair and standing up to face him. “He had no part in it! I can prove it, just listen to me!”

As much as Khaled wanted to interrogate that ‘I can prove it’ claim just a little more, Tom ignored him. He pulled the leash taut and yanked Khaled away. Khaled frantically pulled at the collar around his neck, emitting choked gasps as he stumbled along and struggled to keep up.

They ended up back at the car, where Tom unclipped his leash and pushed the button on the key fob to unlock the trunk of the car. Khaled was shoved up roughly against the side of the car as his hands were gathered behind his back and bound tightly by a soft and silky material, most likely a necktie. “Master, please, please, hear me out –I didn’t put a hit on you, I swear!” he once again tried to explain through a mess of snot and tears. “I don’t want to kill you, why would I want to kill you? Please –listen to me! I don’t want to kill you; I swear I didn’t know!” Thomas dragged him to the back of the car, where he stared down at him in cold fury. He took out a dark cloth from his pocket and unfolded it. Khaled preemptively opened his mouth to receive it, but then the man tied the cloth around his eyes to blind him. He quietly shut his mouth as the blindfold was tied tight enough to catch his hair. He heard the trunk of the car quietly whoosh open before he was picked up and shoved inside. The door of the trunk slammed shut, sealing him in an extra layer of darkness.

The ride seemed to stretch on forever as Khaled shivered in the darkness. It was still far too cold to be riding back there without anything to keep him warm. Throughout the darkness he begged, then screamed, then cried, then sniffled, knowing damn well his master couldn’t hear him.

Time seemed to work differently in the dark, cramped confines of a car trunk. Khaled was unsure of how much time had passed since he was shoved in the trunk, but he was more than concerned that they seemed to keep driving far longer than it usually took to get back to the apartments. He’s never going to forgive me, he realized as he rested his head onto the floor of the trunk. He really thinks I planned to kill him, and now he’s going to take me out into the woods and kill me, or do something so horrific it will make me wish I had died. A fresh round of tears soaked into his blindfold as Khaled whimpered pathetically. I don’t want to die, not like this.

Goddamnit, Julio, you tried to be the hero, and now I’m gonna end up dead in a ditch somewhere, Khaled cursed in his head.

The car rolling to a stop and faint click that preceded the trunk unlocking made Khaled’s heartrate speed up. A new wave of anxiety hit him much like the blast of midwinter air when the trunk was opened and he was pulled out. He didn’t feel concrete underneath his shoes, and the fresh icy chill of the air around him told him they weren’t in the parking garage. We really are in the woods somewhere, he thought, his hopes sinking like lead as his master’s hand gripped his elbow and steered him along to an unknown destination. He’s really driven me out to the woods somewhere to kill me. Khaled stumbled as his foot hit an unseen obstruction, but his master dragged him along regardless. This is it. I’m gonna die. His breaths started picking up, heart racing as that last thought worked him up into another nervous state. His owner stopped and threw him forward onto the ground. Khaled landed face first into a cold and wet patch of snow, judging on how it felt when it absorbed his impact. “Get up and kneel.” Khaled’s breaths stopped in his throat. There was no room in his master’s frigid tone for argument. He pushed himself up the best he could with his hands bound behind his back, shivering not just from the cold as he assumed a kneeling position.

A cold, metallic object pressed against the back of the young man’s skull. “If you’ve got anything to say, say it now,” his master’s voice said behind him. A wet and warm spot began to soak his pants in the front. Khaled’s mind went blank. He was so scared he nearly forgot his owner had asked for his last words. He caught his trembling lip between his teeth before shaking his head. Whatever he could say for his last words would go unheeded anyway, lost in the winter’s chill and the indifferent New England woods. He hung his head in resignation, ready for the explosive pain followed by sudden oblivion and nothingness, or whatever it was that lie ahead.

He had at least hoped he would see his father’s face before the end. But the only image his shielded eyes could conjure up before he died was a pair of sharp, steel gray eyes.

Click.

Nothing happened.

The gun lowered, and heavy footsteps crunched in the snow as his would-be executioner walked around to the front of him.

Khaled was still alive. Somehow, he was still alive. There was a light brush of hands reaching behind his head before the blindfold fell away, revealing a familiar face staring down at him with those same steel gray eyes. Khaled’s breath shimmered in the cold moonlit night. He was alive. He wasn’t going to die. He was alive.

All the fear and tension left his body like his vaporous breath in the night as he slumped forward, crying tears of relief into his master’s shoulder as he caught him. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you,” he sobbed between each breath.

“Shhh, shhh, it’s alright, it’s alright,” Thomas soothed as he reached behind Khaled to untie his hands. “I believe you for now, it’s alright.” As soon as his hands were free, Khaled wrapped them around the older man’s neck, hugging him close as he bawled into his shoulder. “I thought about it, but there is no way I can definitively prove it was you.” A muscular pair of arms wrapped around him and held him close, drawing him into the warmth. “And besides, my favorite fuck toy, plotting to kill me?” His master laughed. “No way you’re smart enough for that! I didn’t buy you for your brains, you know!”

“Yes, yes, I’m stupid, I am so fucking stupid, thank you!” Khaled cried. He nuzzled his cold wet face into Tom’s warm neck and peppered the man’s jawline with kisses, murmuring his gratitude between every kiss. He was alive, he didn’t die, and that was the only thing that mattered in that moment.

“Let’s go home,” Thomas said, hoisting Khaled onto his feet. “The takeout I bought is getting cold, and you need a change of pants.”

He led the young man through the woods back to side of the road where he had parked his car. “I was completely serious about you never seeing anybody else again, by the way,” he reminded him as he opened the passenger side door. Khaled slid gratefully inside, happy to be in the heated part of the car. “You are relieved of your duties to the organization from now on,” Tom continued as he joined him on the driver’s side, “You are demoted to domestic service. You will stay at home and keep the penthouse spotless, welcoming me to it every evening with warm food and your warmer body. You will stay in the apartment and not leave for anything unless it is with me or a trusted associate. You will never see anybody again. That’ll keep you from conspiring to kill me, or from spreading your legs for anyone else but me, and only I will decide when it’s time to bring you back out again.” He pushed the button and started up the vehicle, setting the heaters to full blast.

Khaled nodded. What did he care about being stuck at home and never seeing anybody again? He was alive, and right now, as he held his freezing fingers close to the vents, that was all that mattered.

Le Tag List: @kabie-whump @rainydaywhump @whumped-by-glitter @skittles-the-whumpee @generic-whumperz @bamber344 @there-will-always-be-blood @morning-star-whump @a-la-whump @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @defire

#whump writing #description of and mention of STD #mock execution #prostitution whump #tw gun violence #brief but its there #collared whumpee #blindfolded whumpee #bound whumpee #emotional whump #emotional angst #fear of death #whumpee pisses themself out of fear #degrading language #toxic relationship whump #manipulative whumper #possessive whumper #intimate whumper #this one was a ride folks‚ but it'll cool down from here

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