#I only notice now that I am more aware of it that I gnash my teeth at daytime too

[scarefox]

me: ah I assume I am gnashing my teath at night when I am mentally unwell and therefore I get migraine, neck and teeth issues every other day... should get myself one of those bitey things for the night

also me the whole day:

[araybiaaa]

PLS I NEED STALKER/RAFE X SOFIA

❝ peeping rafe. r. cameron ❞

ooo. 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈… rafe cameron & sofia

ooo. 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔… stalker!rafe, voyeurism, masturbation, one sided jealousy, delusional!rafe, mutual masturbation, sex toys, obsessive behavior, obsessive!rafe, sexual attraction, filth.

ooo. 𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔… where she’s his favorite thing to watch.

ooo. 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔… hiiii, i loved this request sm! i’ve never written anything this dark before so i was nervous and excited to test my abilities and see how it would come out and i think i rlly like it! obviously stalking is wrong and in no way am i glorifying it. with that being said… enjoy ᝰ.ᐟ 😉

he sits on his couch waiting.

his fingers tapped against his thigh, his leg bounced in an erratic undulation as his eyes lowered to his watch to gauge at the time. an exasperated sigh falls off of his lips when he notices that she’s late by nearly an hour and a half. standing to his feet, rafe rubbed a hand over his clenched jaw as he wondered what or who was the reason for her delayed return home. 

he could feel his impatience wearing thin — his desperation was becoming more visceral with each passing minute. his attention alerts when he finally sees the reflection of light transcend throughout her living room. rafe returns to his respective perch, feeling himself become exhilarated at the thought of seeing her again. 

and when she walks through the front door moments later, rafe swears he feels his breath catching in the back of his throat. she always looks effortlessly beautiful, but tonight she looks absolutely gorgeous — wearing a thin strapped black dress that perfectly sheathed her lithe physique, her hair styled in a neat coiffure and her face primped with makeup.

rafe revels in her beauty only briefly as he came to the abrupt realization that she wasn’t wearing her work attire or casual clothing like usual; but instead was styled in something that she would wear for a date. 

his teeth gnashes at this realization.

the idea of sharing her with someone else, or someone being able to kiss and touch her in all of the ways that he couldn’t left rafe feeling covetous. his infatuation quickly developed into an obsession that has heightened throughout the past six months.

it started off with him observing her seldomly, as he was reluctant in conceding to his unhealthy habit. he was aware that it wrong and illegal, watching someone like this without their consent but the more he attempted to persist against his compulsion, the more he became fixated on her until he could no longer resist against it. it’s been months of him memorizing her work schedule, knowing when she leaves for/comes back from the gym and familiarizing himself with the faces of anyone that’s ever visited her.

through the months of his spectating, he doesn’t remember her ever bringing a guy home — which he now realizes was probably a good thing because he doesn’t know how he would react if he had to actually witness someone else touching his girl, the simple thought of it already had him feeling envious.

but he sobers at another realization.

her date had to be bad seeing as though she didn’t bring anyone back home to commemorate the night with. he revels in this small victory, feeling himself swell with a haughty pride. rafe follows her movements as she retreats from the living room down the hallway to her bedroom. 

he adjusts his blinds, leaving them open to where he can still maintain a view of her, but closed just enough so that she couldn’t see him watching her. he then makes his perch on the edge of his bed. 

when she walks into her bedroom, she leans against the doorway to slip her heels off of her feet. she saunters over to her window and panic briefly shrouds through rafe as he wondered if she’d spotted him. but she makes no indication that she did, not even looking over at his window or giving him a second’s glance as she reaches for the tilt wand on her blinds and twists until they’re partially closed. 

(luckily for rafe, this doesn’t obstruct his view of her.)

her hands then reach up to her shoulders, sliding the straps of the dress down until she’s clad in nothing but a pair of black underwear. rafe’s breath hitches again as his arousal heightens at the sight of her tits; at how they perch highly on her chest with her pink nipples taut and protruding.

this is the part that he loves the most — where he gets to indulge in his sexual gratification by watching her undress for bed. 

it’s almost like she puts on a show for him with how she chooses to sleep either fully nude or with only a bra and underwear covering herself most nights.

he wondered if she was aware of him watching her, would she be repulsed by him or would she find some kind of gratification in it? he’s always contemplated on approaching her in person, but there was something about her not knowing who he was or what he looked like that made it much more exhilarating for rafe. 

his cock curls against his thigh, swelling in its girth against the fabric of his underwear. rivulets of precum skeets from his flushed head; dampening and staining his briefs, leaving a sticky residue of white fluid in its wake. rafe breathes softly through his parted lips and flared nostrils as he reaches for the waistband of his sweatpants, tugging them over his hips. 

his cock slaps wetly against his stomach as he releases himself. He’s painstakingly hard and throbbing, his cock’s begging for him to satiate his libido. rafe reaches his hand down to palm himself. he releases a prolonged moan; his eyes flutter softly as his body shivers at the sensitivity of his touch. he licks his lips, blinking his eyes open again to avert his attention back on her. 

she’s sprawled out across her bed with her phone in her hands and her fingers deftly moving across the screen. rafe’s hand undulates as he uses his precum to lubricate his cock; slicking it completely until he’s glistening with his arousal. 

he firms the grip of his fingers, adjusting his hold before he jerks his hand in a slow fluctuating motion. rafe shudders, murmuring a low, “fuck!” as he rolled his hips in tandem with his movements. he allows his mind to wander on her; imagining that it was her hands that were jerking him off instead of his own. 

he mewls, feeling his breathing quicken at the rapid stimulation. 

averting his attention back on her, he sees her toss her phone aside with an absentminded disregard looking seemingly frustrated. rafe’s mind doesn’t even have time to wonder the reason behind her abrupt shift in demeanor, because before he knows it she’s thumbing her underwear over her hips and down her thighs. 

he watches with a piqued curiosity as she reaches over towards her nightstand and tugs open the top drawer; retrieving what looked like to be a pink vibrator. “oh, fuck,” rafe moans, the realization that he was about to witness her pleasuring herself immediately dawns upon him and has his cock lurching against his hand in avidity. 

she leans back against the mattress again, moving around until she’s laid comfortably in position. she bends her knees, firmly resting the heels of her feet against the mattress as she clefts her legs open. rafe chokes on another moan, the visuals of how wet she probably is tortures his imagination, causing him to jerk himself off again, moving from base to tip in one fluid motion. 

she moves the vibrator between her legs, aligning it at the center of her wanton cunt. rafe watches as she arches her back and nudges her hips forward until the head slipped in slowly. she accommodates to its length, stretching herself around it. 

rafe whimpers, hastening the movements of his hand as he watched her slide the tip of the vibrator against her clit. she spreads her legs wider, giving him a better view from this angle as she adds a finger to the stimulation. he tugs harder at his cock, moving in tandem with her as she slides the vibrator further against her arousal slicked cunt. 

she had a bad date and she has to get herself off? rafe doesn’t know who the guy is, but he was a fucking idiot for ruining his chance with someone like her. If it were him, she’d never have to make herself cum like this — he would supply her with as many orgasms as he could pull out of her, fucking her so good that the idea of having to substitute his cock with anything else would bewilder her.

but he’s also admittedly glad that the date was bad because he’s the one gets to watch her this. 

he plays into the idealistic fantasy that she’s doing this for him. she has to be; it’s the reason why she never fully closes her blinds even while doing one of the most intimate things a person can do. maybe she gets off on his voyeurism. is that why she was laid in front of him fingering herself and teasing her cunt with a vibrator so openly like this when she knows that her bedroom is directly athwart from his? did she know he was watching and was pathetically jerking himself off at the sight of her? does she enjoy the attention that he feeds her?

he can tell how sensitive she is just from the way she writhes against the bed and how she has to prevent herself from arching too far off; not wanting to interfere with her impending orgasm. she thrusts her hips into the vibrations, finding the right spot that has her back bowing despite her efforts. “that’s it, baby.” he encourages from afar watching his perfect girl fuck herself so good for him.

she momentarily pulls the vibrator away, bringing it back in slow and light ministrations across her clit to prolong the sensations without overstimulating herself.

rafe’s mind wanders as he envisions himself in the room with her — with his cock replacing her vibrator and giving her the evidential orgasm that she was desperately seeking. he imagines how good she probably smells when she’s on the precipice of an orgasm, at the pretty little noises that she makes while she’s getting fucked unrelentingly until she’s boneless and spent.  

he tugs with vigor, the wet sounds of his cock slapping against his palm ricochets throughout his bedroom. he teases his tip with his thumb, dragging it down in one tantalizing motion. his hands fondle his balls, squeezing, as he continued to jerk himself off. he looks pleadingly at her; blinking through the fogginess of his vision, inwardly begging for her release as he was desperate to cum the same time that she did.

“come on, baby, cum for me.” he says, licking his lips as he hastens his movements.

she slides her fingers inside of her cunt again; out slowly, then faster, dragging and curling them against the sensitive flesh. when she hits the spot against her front walls, her body spams — her head tips back and her hips chase the friction. her hand falls limply to her side and she withdraws the vibrator when she finally cums. 

rafe bites on his lower lip, feeling his balls tightening and sweat gathering at his hairline as he gives his cock a few haste tugs before he’s following behind her, cuming with a profound intensity. his throat clicks as he groans, his cock lurches as he squirts white fluids all over his stomach and thighs. rafe looks over at her again, watching as she remained laid out on top of her bed, still lulling from her orgasm.

when she’s recovered, she stands shakily to her feet and retreats to the bathroom. he uses that as an opportunity to clean himself up too, discarding his stained pair of briefs for a clean pair that he tugs over his hips and thoroughly washing his hands. 

they walk back into their respective bedrooms at the same time. she tucks her vibrator back in the drawer before climbing into bed. rafe follows suit, turning off the light before slipping beneath the covers. she grabs her phone and sends one last text message before she eventually leans over and clicks off her lamp light.

“good night, sofia.” rafe murmurs, before he’s turning his head and sinking into the comfort of his bed. 

[autisticdoomslayer]

Tarkatan Culture

OK General notes about Tarkatan culture so far, all of which have been gleamed through mk11. Note that some of these cultural values may not be 100% accurate, since most of them are gotten through Baraka's dialogue so some of this might just be his personality. So this is like 50% also a Baraka analysis, since he's the only Tarkatan I really have access to and I doubt he's a super reliable narrator.

This will probably be added onto later.

Okay, so just to get this out of the way - Tarkatan cannibalism is canon. I think we already knew this. It's mentioned casually in a couple intro dialogues.

Now we get into themes/topics, specifically values that I've noticed may be in Tarkatan culture.

1. - Honesty.

Baraka's brutally honest and straight to the point. Baraka says things that could very well spark anger or aggression even from his allies, and it doesn’t seem to be on purpose. In fact, sometimes it seems to be out of goodwill.

Baraka: I'd think twice about being Kotal's Bride. Jade: And why is that, Baraka? Baraka: If he betrays Tarkata, you will suffer.

He's warning her - this seems like less of a threat and more of a weird gesture of goodwill. "hey, we're mostly cool, please be aware that if your boyfriend double-crosses my people I will not react in a way you like". In another intro dialogue he tells Cetrion straight-up to "speak plainly" and stop speaking in the confusing virtue riddles she usually does.

Now, this might just be a him thing, but it makes sense for a Proud Warrior Race like the Tarkatans. Note that while while the Shokan are also a Proud Warrior Race, they are canonically very hierarchical and have a strict caste system, which means they are more likely to have social expectations of how to act around those of higher status (canon based on how Sheeva expects others to treat her). These social expectations are usually going to be more formal/less direct out of respect. The Tarkatans, however, have a very loose hierarchical system, that seems to be mainly restricted to two categories: tribe members and whoever is leading the tribe at that time. Leadership is not acquired through blood or caste, but through prowess.

Baraka: You challenge me for the tribe? Mirror Baraka: By the rules of Katka Rakatan. Baraka: I will feast on your flesh. (including that line for proof of cannibalism, which I don't think anyone needed but I'm doing it anyway.)

There's also no strict governmental system. The few "laws" Tarkatans have seem to be mainly just traditions, that, if broken, will cause a huge uproar.

Robocop: How are Tarkatan laws enforced? Baraka: With gnashing teeth and sharpened blades. Robocop: I would not call that justice.

The whole "rules of Katka Rakatan" thing seems to be enforced mainly out of compliance to tradition. The tradition is highly respected throughout Tarkatan culture, and on the off chance that someone tries to break that tradition, it will A) probably be seen as an act of cowardice, since most of the traditions are probably combat/challenge based and B) will end with the offending individual getting torn apart by the rest of the tribe.

It makes sense that, with this looser heirarchical system, Tarkatans don't feel any need to speak formally/respecfully. This point is strengthened by this dialogue:

Baraka: My people are skeptical. Kitana: I am not Shao Kahn, Baraka. Baraka: Words. We need deeds.

2. - Oppression

Tarkatans have canonically been an oppressed group for a while. Like, a long time.

Geras: Submit your tribe to Kronika. Baraka: Tarkatans do not submit, Geras. Geras: It is their entire history.

Now, let's talk fantastic racism real quick. We got Kotal's genocidal tendencies, but everyone know's about those. So let's talk about Rain sees everyone as lesser, that’s kind of his thing, but he seems to see Tarkatans as particularly inferior.

Rain: Kitana has made you a partner? Baraka: Her choice offends you? Rain: It disgusts me, Baraka.

Even Kitana seems to have some biases despite how she's portrayed in story mode.

Kitana: You soil every room you enter. Kano: Bloke's gotta mark his territory. Kitana: Even Baraka's more civilized.

It's not that bad compared to the shit Tarkatans have gone through, but it's still racism, damn.

There's also this line, but I'm pretty sure it's not canon.

Kitana: The flesh trade is banned. Baraka: My people won't starve, Kitana! Kitana: There will be no exceptions.

(I'm not entirely sure if "flesh trade" refers exclusively to human/sentient flesh or what, but that "my people won't starve" line doesn't paint Kitana in a great light. Again, probably non-canon though.)

Frost has two different dialogues where she insults Baraka, one of which involves her calling him low-born (more looking down upon Tarkatans) and a "cur" (which up until now I have never heard used outside of a Shakespearian context; for anyone wondering, it's pretty much synonymous with "mongrel"). She also calls him a coward, which, knowing Baraka, is probably the reason he sounds so pissed in the dialogue.

Tarkatans/Baraka seem to hate being looked down upon as dumber/lesser/primitive/uncivilized.

Baraka: Why come to Outworld? Erron Black: Why, to meet exotic folks like yourself. Baraka: By 'exotic', you mean 'primitive'.

Shang Tsung: Do Tarkatans have souls, Baraka? Baraka: Of course we have souls. Shang Tsung: Souls are more useful than service. (Baraka's so ready for an attempt to dehumanize (for lack of a better word) Tarkatans that he kinda forgets the problem with discussing souls with Shang Tsung, famous soul stealer.)

He also emphasizes his status as an equal to Kitana multiple times:

Baraka: Tarkatans are slaves no longer. Sindel: Kitana has made you servants. Baraka: We are allies, not servants.

Baraka: Join us against the Emperor. Mileena: And forever curtsy to my sister? Baraka: Better Kitana's partner than Shao Kahn's slave. (There's emphasis on Mileena's disgust at the thought of being below Kitana, and Baraka emphasizes that he and Kitana are partners. Equals.)

He also is notably very appreciative when people see him as an equal, or at least show him basic decency. This is shown in most of his dialogues with Jade and Kotal (in most of Kotal's dialogue Baraka makes it clear that just because he likes Jade doesn't mean he likes Kotal).

He also seems incredibly cautious of his allies, kind of waiting for betrayal.

3. Loyalty

Loyalty seems to be a value. I questioned if loyalty might have some importance with the amount of dialogues of Baraka swearing his loyalty to Jade & Kitana (so long as they don't betray him), but what makes me think it could be a cultural value is this line:

Baraka: If Kitana cheats us, Tarkata will rise. Jade: She's never shown disloyalty, Baraka. Baraka: Except to the Kahn who raised her.

Disloyalty to anyone, even to someone like Shao Kahn, is enough to make Baraka suspicious. The emphasis on Shao Kahn raising Kitana may also show a cultural respect for parental figures.

I might add onto this later, but this is what I have right now.

TL;DR - tarkatans are the jews of outworld.

[tiens-letters]

butterflies flutter even in the most bloodstained of battlefields

Xiao (angst)

....

It was one of those nights again.

Where all was serene, creatures alike basking in the tranquility of the world once the moon above floats over the existence of everything. To where wars stopped for rest and yet one soul amongst many had no time to do so.

"Alatus." what a familiar name he thinks as he floats around in the void, the darkness to which seemed not consume him just like before and then he wondered where he is right now is the place of all endings. It was pure nothingness and it seemed more comforting than the land he was supposed to protect, riddled with war and the ever evolving generations of humanity.

If this was the end then so be it, he wouldnt ask for more. He could finally rest his weary head and think and replay all the good days while awaiting reincarnation and he prayed. He hoped for a better rebirth and into a place of peace.

"Alatus." there was it again, the name he's forgot during the spoils of war. A name he thought he'd never hear again or even spoken by someone's lips.

"Wake up please." but his eyes were fully open, his body aware and yet he felt alienated, out of place. He realizes that his skin never felt a thing and only the harrowing reality that this place was a farce.

As if it were the clue to the puzzle, the darkness broke and fell apart into a field, marred with bodies piled atop each other, the red sun above blessing those under it the horrors of a never ending terror that scorched their skin and drove them towards the brink of madness. His polearm, sullied with grime and blood. It felt heavy, like the burden he carries upon his shoulders. A little bit more and he would have lost himself too. He stood above it all and looked at the vast battlefield before him, the very nightmare he's always experienced. Just he himself standing, alone and cold, the suffocating air heavy with the stench of tarnished blood.

There were no grassy fields with a clear sky nor the old and ancient land of liyue that he grew up in and fought for.

A lone butterfly dances in the midst of it all, his body weightless as he followed it. Wondering why it called out to him in a silent way yet its presence itself made him feel at ease.  Perhaps this was his salvation from being damned to this world, a small glowing butterfly. He wanted to touch it but he felt undeserving to for such an action, he might curse it as well. His eyes was set alone on its fluttering feat, not noticing the bodies he walked past nor the souls that called out to him.

And then it burst into a million, pieces of light, engulfing him in its warmth.

He welcomed it.

"Xiao!" he gasps, like his very first breath into existence and then he could feel everything there is and there was.

That's right, there was still you, beautiful eyes fully blown into worry, that face of your torn into agony at the thought of him never waking up next to you. Not feeling his skin upon your and his lips gracing your immortal soul.

You embraced him with relief, clutching his body that was filled with nightmare tremors.

"Thank you." he whispers against your neck, the sweat from his forehead sticking to you skin and you didnt care. Even if you both were covered in dirt or grime, even if both of you were tarnished by blood, nothing mattered except that you both are breathing and feeling.

"I thought Ive lost you in that wasteland, Alatus."

He kisses you with all he has, all the pent up emotions he could never say, all the love he feels for you was conveyed into actions, those hands that held a weapon of war now cupping your cheeks and all you could ever feel was his deeply rooted affection towards you. it was as if to remind him that you were still there, the sole reminder of a better world. a better life.

You who he's dedicated his heart to and not anyone else. the first of everything. sure it was a bumpy ride in the beginning as he was like a newborn babe to the emotions such as love and joy but as time took every step, the road seemed to smoothen by its grace and it became easier to approach these newfound feelings. you were glad to be blessed by the geo archon to have a long life so  that you can offer your all to the land you helped protect and build and now to the man before you. Your dearly torn Alatus. 

"Rest well my dear." 

...

It was truly the end of the line. 

Everywhere was in utter chaos, modern Liyue now fraught to ruin as an ancient God had been awakened, one you thought had been sealed away and the demons you guardians once kept away came bounding back tenfold and hungry for blood and destruction. The city that has been built from the ground crumbled , as you fought once again, just like all those years ago side by side with your comrades. People were dying as you strived to protect every single soul with your hands and just like before, several others dropped to your feet, lifeless and tossed apart like a rag doll.

You were tiring, sharp movements turned sluggish as you tore down anything evil that you came across, you prayed to whichever good god was still alive that the people had run to safety so that you could unleash your last card. A trick you've vowed to never use again as long as you are alive and the situation permits it so and yet you've run out of time. if you didnt do this now then everything would really turn to ash and nothing would bloom ever again. 

Standing in the middle of the onslaught of monsters that never seemed to end, gnashing teeth nipped at your barrier only to be repelled back by a force that seemed to lose its energy. You sighed, the last ever peace you'll get to feel as the karma pushed you over the edge. 

"Xiao." and as soon his name poured out your lips did he appear, an urgent look in his eyes as he slashed down any monster that came near. 

"Its time." his mouth hung open, unable to find the right words to counter you, how could he? when duty was above everything, especially in the relationship you both had that bloomed from the most ancient of days. Liyue came first above all else, that was what you swore as Morax blessed you on the day of your early death. You were thankful to him that he's allowed you to live even with the price of servitude. 

"Thirty  seconds." was all he could muster up to say from all the torrential words that swarmed his head. just thirty seconds of peace with you was all he wanted before you walk the remaining steps towards the end. 

"Alright." there was peace as you allowed it, nothing from outside was heard only the ragged breathes that came from both of your lungs. There were no monsters only two immortal beings that longed for peace, and in those weary eyes was hope for a tomorrow. 

"I love you." he whispers pulling you close, those thirty seconds slowed as he held you tightly, his skin engraving the memory of you deep within. "I love you. Dont forget that." 

"Even if I pass on, you will always be in my heart. Even if time goes on, your name remains on my lips. Even if everything crumbles, you in your own self will always be with me as I am with you. So my dear, my dear sweet Alatus, dont you ever cry when you wake up tomorrow to an empty bed, dont look for me when all Ive ever been is right beside you. Instead, rejoice for there is another day you get to experience for the both of us and if time allows us once again, which I am confident it will. I will  find you just as you've found me." 

this was your parting vow. 

your peaceful barrier broke and once again you were back in the cruel reality you faced and will face till your death. Your lips find his and for the last time in this life, you poured every ounce of you in it. Your eyes had no tears and only hope and acceptance as you broke away. 

"I love you." and then that was the end of your own book. 

Billions upon billions of butterflies burst from you, touching every dirty, disgusting thing, purging it off this world once and for all. Your duty was fulfilled, your contract has ended and now you are free. There was nothing to worry about except to wait for the right time to find you way back to him. 

Now, everything was at peace again. 

Xiao, the man you've left behind for the time being stood alone once again with a single butterfly perched atop his forehead. 

.....................................................................

i will get to the requests after a few days. Please bear with my low creativity juice and dwindling will to can.

[nervousladytraveler]

A + B are in an argument, then they stop, just stare at each other, and then crash their lips together, because, like i said... fuck this shit Ross and Demelza :)

Oh @veryflowerobservation, thanks so much for the prompt! Here's a snippet but because I apparently have some need for deep diversion, I've made it a longer fic that I'll post the whole thing tomorrow (I've called it "The Alibi"). This is a modern AU (but not Like Someone...)

---

“Ross, you should be fucking grateful to have Dwight as a mate. He’s a real friend, you know.”

“I never said he wasn't.”

“No, you just said I wasn't,” she snorted.

“Oh come on, Demelza. You know I didn't mean that. What are you going on about?”

“In case it isn’t clear, Ross,” she hissed, “I am still sooo angry at you.” She spoke through clenched teeth. “That you got involved with those weasels in the first place, that you shut me out, that you almost...”

“It’s none of your business!” he shouted. “Why are you being this way?”

“Okay, it’s not my business and I’m not your friend, just some stupid girl who works for you and is used to clearin’ up your messes--and who knows she’ll be out of that job if you get nicked. Fuck this shit. And fuck you, Ross!” Without looking at him she stepped out of the car and slammed the door.

Ross immediately followed her, afraid that she’d keep shouting and wake the hotel. She stopped in her tracks a few yards away and stood silently. It was the first time in nearly thirty minutes that she’d stopped yelling at him. Ross leaned against the still-warm bonnet of the car and exhaled.

Perhaps she’d known what she was doing, parking the car in a farthest corner of the lot, under a broken street lamp. They were completely hidden in shadow, still Ross could make out her face--her narrowed, feral eyes, her gnashing teeth that gleamed in the faint moonlight. For a moment he thought she might bite him.

He cautiously took a step forward then paused to read her posture.

The chill in the air--and in the words they’d just thrown at each other--was causing her shoulders to shake. He noticed she was wearing a blue jumper just a shade darker than her brilliant eyes. The sleeves were too long, and she’d had to repeatedly push them up, but they wouldn't cooperate and hung past her fingertips. Then he realised it was his, the old one he usually left hanging on the peg by the front door. He almost asked her what she was wearing--or rather why she was wearing it--but instead, aware that he’d been moved but not at all sure of the reason, he did something else. He made two long strides towards her.

Startled, she looked up at him. Her shining eyes lit the night.

“Yes, like you said...fuck this shit…” he laughed and put his hand on her elbow, pulling her towards him. He expected resistance, but he found none.

It was only a moment that they just stared at each other but it felt eternal, then at some unspoken signal, they crashed together.

It was an untidy and urgent kiss--almost awkwardly violent in its clumsiness had it not been fueled by such sincere desperation. Then, as they both found their breath, their arms found each other. A great weight had been lifted--one that neither Ross nor Demelza realised they were shouldering until that moment.

He wove his hands through her hair and kissed her again. This time their lips worked together, carried by the flood of surging desire and long-sought release.

“Demelza, I’m so sorry I got you in this,” he whispered. His voice was low but soft, he clutched her face afraid she might slip away like sand through his fingers.

“Ross, I was just so scared for you.”

He could hear the tears she was trying to hold back and understood why she’d been so angry with him. He’d been such a spectacular idiot, and in more ways than one.

“Me too. When you turned up, Demelza...my blood ran cold at the thought that I'd lured you into danger. I would never let anyone hurt you…” He ran his finger gently down her cheek then kissed her pulsing temple.

“I couldn't leave you Ross, I just couldn't,” she cried into his neck.

“Thank you for caring for me even though I don’t deserve it. Come, you’re shivering. Let's go inside. We can talk more…” But instead of letting her go, he pressed her closer until he was certain he could feel her heart beating against his.

“I don't want to talk anymore,” she sniffled.

“Me neither. I just want to touch you and know you are safe.”

“Will you, Ross?”

Good god, I’ll never let you go, he thought.

“And can you trust me?” When she looked up at him, the hunted, defensive animal was gone. Now she was raw, vulnerable. She was opening herself to him, and doing so completely.

Ross understood what would happen next, what was happening now. He felt it in his gut and knew things would never be the same.

“Of course I do. More than anyone,” he said and kissed her again.

[bubbly-bungee-may]

ZoNa Valentine’s Week: Day 4 Why I Ship ZoNa: Part 1

So because i’ve never explained why I ship ZoNa, I’ve decided to use this Valentine’s Week as an excuse to make 3 separate posts on why I ship them. 

 They will be long posts because I am relying on the gifs I made of the anime rather than the manga (even though the manga may be more accurate, but I just started reading the manga so give me some time lol)

OKAY LET’S START.....

So just as a preface: First and foremost these two have known each other the longest. I’m not saying that in order to be a couple you need to know someone for a long time, but in ZoNa’s case I feel like it’s an important part of their relationship. 

They started out as friends then shit went down in Arlong Park (namely where Nami plays the villain for a hot second and that shakes Zoro up cause he had trusted her) but then everything was settled and they went back to being friends. 

I feel like that incident was necessary not only for the plot, but for Zoro and Nami’s relationship to develop. After everything, they now have full trust in the other and their relationship was able to evolve. 

This all leads me to my first reason as to why I ship ZoNa:

1. They are friends FIRST

Yes, I ship them as a couple, but I believe that all successful relationships begin as friends (that’s just my own personal belief). A foundation built on friendship and mutual understanding and trust is what I believe allows this ship to sail.

And despite the fact that everyone thinks Nami and Zoro are only capable of fighting and butting heads, they are actually very good friends who are capable of holding normal conversations.

Exhibit A (Ep.54) : Nami took notice of how Zoro was acting strange and commented on it. She’s aware of his presence and isn’t just writing him off. And this also shows that she cares about him.

Exhibit B (Ep. 62) : Zoro wanted Nami’s opinion on what the strange sound he heard was. Also Nami is taking the time to answer him; she could’ve just ignored him completely but she decided to pay him attention. 

Exhibit C (Ep. 154): This is a very brief moment, but Zoro and Nami have a conversation about dropping anchor and the layout of the island. And they are both on the ship alone and idk I like to think that Zoro was waiting for Nami to be done changing so that they could go on the island together.  

Exhibit D (Ep. 161): Nami wanting Zoro’s opinion as to if he saw anything. Just shows that she trusts his judgment and how she can rely on him. 

Exhibit E (Ep. 161): Short conversation, but still important. Zoro is showing concern and care for Nami by telling her to be more careful. And Nami is replying sincerely.

Exhibit F (Ep. 217): Zoro notices Nami is mad without even looking at her. If that doesn’t tell you how well he knows her by now, then idk what does. But it’s also important that Zoro is listening to her concerns and commenting on them.  

So YES, they can hold normal conversations, here is the proof! And having known each other the longest, they also know the other well.

Zoro can spot Nami’s money obsession anytime, anywhere.  (Ep.105)

And Nami knows how much Zoro loves sake, so she went out of her way to get it for him. (look at how happy he is hehe) (Ep. 255)

And this ⤵ gif (Ep. 159) is one of my newfound favorite moments and leads us into the next reason. It’s not in the manga, but maybe the animators are also ZoNa fans....??

2. They are comfortable around eachother.

Okay, but doesn’t it seem like Zoro is teasing Nami?!?! She almost ran into a tree and then Zoro is like “oooo a perfect opportunity to tease her”. Idk I just found this part super cute. Like Zoro isn’t usually one to be playful like this, but he is with Nami and ughhh it’s so cute!  

And then the multiple times that Zoro is seen sitting/sleeping next to/near Nami. It just shows that they don’t mind each other’s company and honestly (intentional or not) I think they gravitate towards each other because of how comfortable they are with each other.

Exhibit A (46): He came to sit next to her during breakfast when he could’ve sat down next to his captain. Like is this his seat? Has he claimed the spot next to Nami as his own? ..... I like to think so.

Exhibit B (48): The start of Zoro’s debt. I just love how Nami leans in and he doesn’t seem to mind it hehe.

Exhibit C (Episode of Alabasta): The circumstance here was a bit different, but I like to think that she just wanted to be close to Zoro. And idc who tf you are, but if you were in Zoro’s position you can’t just not think about or be conscious about the woman on you. Like yeah you can call yourself friends, but you gotta be at least a bit conscious of where you’re touching and what’s touching you.

Exhibit D (Ep.149) : The start of the famed drinking buddies act. Nami moved here after pouring Robin a drink so I like to think that she felt comfortable and decided to settle down next to him. So i’m guessing Zoro’s seat is next to Nami during breakfast, and Nami’s seat is next to Zoro when they’re drinking?!

Exhibit E (Ep. 193): Psssst Zoro, just scoot your hand over a smidgen 

Exhibit F (Ep. 225) : Before one of my favorite parts in the Foxy Arc (that will be shown in another part hehe). 

Exhibit G (Ep 228): The two of them were up here alone before Sanji came. I like to think that Nami was relaxing and then Zoro came up wordlessly and just plopped down and fell asleep (before Sanji interrupted) 

Exhibit H ( Ep 554): Honestly, Zoro is used to it at this point. And this just proves that Nami believes in his strength and believes that he will protect her no matter what.

Exhibit I (569): Ah yes the drinking buddies, an upgrade from Sky Island.

Exhibit J (569): Ah yes the sobering-up buddies. I made another post (here) on this, but I like to think Zoro likes being near her so he can protect her.

Now, I’d also like to make the argument that them butting heads is actually proof of how close they are. 

Nami isn’t afraid of getting close to him and giving him a piece of her mind. Remember in my previous post when Zoro does this with Nami (who is Sanji in Nami’s body). Yeah, they def don’t mind being close to each other even when it comes to arguing.

(Ep 93)

You’d think Zoro would learn that he can rarely win an argument with Nami, but nah, that ain’t Zoro. Personally, I think Zoro low key likes arguing with her. Aside from Nami the only one he really argues with is Sanji (but even then what they argue about is usually something petty).   (Ep 147)

I really like this gif because it shows that Zoro is trying to explain to Nami why they did what they did. She thinks they were “beaten”, but that isn’t necessarily correct, so he was trying to get her to see the real picture.... which she didn’t. lol (Ep 151)

But if there’s one thing I noticed about Zoro and Nami’s relationship when it comes to arguing, it’s that the other party is trying to get the other one to see from their point of view; they don’t argue just to argue.

Putting aside the fact that they were arguing about marriage (although if they ever did get married I’d think Nami would want something extravagant while Zoro would just be like “whatever just wake me up when I have to go in” ah okay my imagination is running wild.. stop stop)

Anyway, this part is important because this time it’s Nami who is trying to get Zoro to see from her point of view. Of course, she can’t do so without yelling and gnashing teeth, but the sentiment is the same-she wants Zoro to understand where she’s coming from. (Ep 764)

I mean look, friends have differing viewpoints and thoughts. Yes, they may disagree, but in the end it doesn’t really matter because people can still think differently but be close.  Ever heard the saying “opposites attract”? yeah, that’s basically ZoNa in a nutshell. They may argue and disagree, but I think that brings them even closer. 

And Zoro is usually referred to as the “calm and cool” guy, but the fact that he easily loses his “cool” over something slight that Nami says, idk I just find that cute that she’s able to get under his skin like that. 

I love the dynamic between the two. They’re opposites who like to fight, but always have each other’s backs and couldn’t stand to see the other hurt.   

[sserpente]

Pastel Blue (Chapter 5)

Synopsis: After his lucky escape, the Tesseract takes Loki on new adventures–but unfortunately, his journeys through space do not go unnoticed and he soon ends up on TVA’s radar. Working for them, albeit reluctantly, he keeps finding himself in the company of a young woman, Jess, who works in the linguistics department and who has a truly strange effect on him. Smitten by her confidence and smugness, he seeks her presence like a bee hunting for honey and lets her wreak havoc in his heart without really knowing why. But he is determined to find out. He means to escape this godforsaken place anyway.  

Find all chapters on my masterlist! (Unfortunately, Tumblr will not display my recent posts if I add a link.)

It almost felt like no time at all. Had one whole week really passed already since Loki had accommodated himself in her unit? In the books, the characters who had to share a room usually fell in love by the end of the story or, even better, they had some mind-blowing sex and then ended up together, and yet all she had done was play with her vibrator like it would be taken away from her the next morning for good.

But unlike any of the mischief and the chaos she had expected, Loki was a rather pleasant roommate. He was respectful, calm, tidy… and she doubted he had ever entered her room without her permission. Unless, of course, he had done so in her absence.

Jess gnashed her teeth, her eyes fixed on her brown hair in the mirror. Ariana had found this lovely youth magazine in the nineties yesterday, one that had already been thrown in the bin. The only reason she had taken it was because the cover showed a blue phone booth with Paul McGann as the Eighth Doctor on the cover. Jess had spent all morning skimming through it, reading the headline article as well as chuckling about the gossip and the ads—even though some of them were rather sexist.

At some point, she found a double page on fancy hairstyles for women and now struggled to copy one of the elegant braids to spice up her own hair. Thus far, she had been failing miserably, flinching with a grunt when Loki opened the bathroom door. He tilted his head upon seeing her sitting on the edge of her bathtub with her tongue sticking out a little and her fingers entangled in her brown hair.

“Yes?”

“I meant to get washed but clearly, you are occupied in here.”

Jess huffed, flinging the hair tie into the sink. “I’ve been trying to braid my hair. Like this, look!” She pointed at the magazine. The woman in the picture looked like it had taken her five minutes to create this look, and they’d had the audacity to rate this style ‘quick and easy’.

Loki chuckled. “You look like a scarecrow.”

“Why, thank you.” She rolled her eyes. “You can take your shower, I give up on this.” She said.

His sigh surprised her. “Allow me.”

“What?” Jess’ reply was all but a chirp but Loki had already approached her and fetched the hair tie from the sink. The braid was indeed a simple one, and as he stood behind her to part her hair for her, he had to refrain from letting her know just how soft it felt.

He had often braided his mother’s hair as a child. It was an activity that had calmed him down whenever Thor and his friends had made fun of how fond he was of books and preferred to use his mind and tricks rather than raw strength in play fights. The hand movements he was so familiar with that he had no need to look. Instead, he met Jess’ eyes in the mirror. She swallowed, and for a brief moment, he found himself remembering the whimpers coming from her bedroom at night.

Quickly, he averted his gaze again, parting her hair to reveal the earrings dangling down her earlobes. They shimmered in the artificial light of the bathroom. He had never seen her without them, come to think of it.

“They are moonstones.” She said when she noticed his glance. His finger brushed against her left earring once more, making it swing a little. “M got them for me on my birthday. The stone is said to soothe emotional instability and stress, and to stabilise emotions.” After all, her own parents were unlikely to buy her birthday presents anymore. “He asked me to always wear them… that they would protect me from evil.”

Loki hummed. He was familiar with the healing properties of moonstones. They were rather common on Asgard too. Only it made him wonder why Mobius would be so keen on her keeping them on at all times.

“Do you truly believe that?”

She shrugged. “I choose to.”

His fingertips brushed against the soft skin of her neck and he sucked in a deep breath. Jess’ lips parted. She was indeed a beautiful woman, was she not? Loki pondered if she was aware of just how alluring she was. How delectable she sounded when she came undone, believing so naïvely that he was unable to hear the fun she had with herself.

Lust flared up in his blue eyes, his fingers caressing her neck once more, and him braiding her hair all of a sudden turning into a subtle excuse to touch her over and over, to explore what their physical connection meant to him. Then it hit him. The inexplicable tension between them was indeed sexual too.

It was perfect, was it not? If Jess desired him, in whatever way she imagined to… then perhaps he could make use of her attraction, especially as this meant that he too would get to blatantly act on those carnal needs simmering right beneath the surface of his very core. He could not possibly trust her beyond that.

“There.” He announced, finishing up the braid by tying the loose ends together with her hair tie. She looked exactly like the model in the magazine now—only Loki had done an even better job. Jess swallowed once more, wishing, subconsciously, that he would touch her one last time. When he stepped away from her instead, she came to suppress a disappointed whimper.

“M is, um… you’ll be sent to a different unit next week.” She said, breaking the oddly peaceful but palpable silence between them.

“Am I?”

“Yeah. Reese recovered well, I mean, that’s what M told me. He will take over after the party.”

“What party?”

Jess stood, clutching the sink behind her for support—Loki did not fail to notice how flustered she was now, almost as if him braiding her hair had intensified whatever it was she felt for him. It had been a long time since he had last had to think this way upon meeting someone of the opposite sex, let alone a mortal woman.

“Dave is celebrating his anniversary this weekend. It’s a big deal here at the TVA, much more important than birthdays. M didn’t tell you about it, then.” She concluded.

Loki shook his head slowly and decided to give her a smirk. Her reaction, blood biting at her cheeks, pleased him. “I’d dare say I am not invited to your silly festivities.”

“M is thinking about it. About inviting you, I mean. And I guess you could… use a break from all… this. Besides, apart from security, everyone will be drunk by midnight. Lots of snacking and dancing…”

Loki rolled his eyes. He had already hated these kinds of parties back on Asgard. Fandral would shamelessly flirt with three women at once, Volstagg would stuff himself into a coma and Thor would brag with his hammer on the dance floor, making the women believe they could lift it as they danced with him.

If anything, however, this absurd anniversary was the perfect opportunity for him to let his charm play and gain her trust. Jess sighed, prompting him to look up and meet her eyes. She stood, approaching him with the hint of a smile both scornful and compassionate at the same time… and then wrapped her arms around him.

Loki tensed up, his arms hanging by his side motionlessly. Physical affection was the last thing he had expected in a place like this, even from Jess. Perhaps, gaining her trust would be easier than he thought it would be, and still, part of him was unable to deny how much he enjoyed knowing that someone at least pretended to care, as peculiar as she was. Her touch felt like someone had set his entire body ablaze.

“Listen, I know you’ve been through shit and I know you hate everyone right now, including me. M may or may not have red on his ledger but you’re a part of the team now. You’re one of us. If we don’t stand up for each other, then who will?”

“I never agreed on becoming a part of the team.” Loki responded darkly.

Jess moved away from him a little, her smile faltering. “Me neither.”

~*~

“You’ll have to explain that to me one more time. When your father, I mean, Odin, fell into the Odinsleep—whatever the hell that means—your mother gave you the throne?”

Loki hummed. That was the part of the story Thor had left out upon telling S.H.I.E.L.D. and all the other silly secret organisations run by mortals how dangerous and menacing his adoptive brother was.

Jess was flicking through one of the thickest books he had ever seen. It was a collection of astronomical anomalies written down in a language not even Loki could decipher and it was so big she had to stand upright rather than sit at her desk to read the top of the pages. She gazed at him from the corner of her eyes.

“Thor was no longer on Asgard and Mother refused to leave Odin’s side. I was the only one left fit to rule—only Thor’s idiotic friends did not accept me as their king.”

“Let me guess… they pretended you were the villain so you became the villain?” Nibbling on her candy necklace, she bit off a pearl with a loud crack. Loki flinched a little. It was short of a miracle she had not chipped any of her teeth yet.

“I saw my chance,” he said. “So I took it. I never saw myself as the villain. And I never lied. I was the rightful king of Asgard.”

Jess bent over to read the small print. She was still wearing the plait Loki had braided into her hair. It swayed from side to side a bit as it fell over her shoulder, revealing her neck. Her scent was almost unnerving—unnerving in a most ferocious and desirable way. Intoxicating. He had sensed it when she had hugged him already and now, part of him was greedy to press her close to him once more and feel her body against his. He suppressed a growl. He should be enjoying his quest to tiptoe nearer and nearer to getting this ridiculous collar off his neck and make this mortal woman swoon over him—not the other way around. He was the one in control. He had to be.

So he stepped closer, his tread so quiet Jess never heard him approach her.

“So you came to like it. The power of the throne?” She said without looking up. Loki nodded, oblivious to the fact she could not see him. She cursed under her breath when his arm brushed against hers, eliciting a barely noticeable smirk from him. It was amusing how quickly he could read her reactions to him now.

The Trickster swallowed. “I meant to prove myself to the man who never saw me as a potential heir in the first place.”

“How did Thanos find you?” Jess choked out when he moved in closer, demanding all of her attention to himself. It almost scared him how fast she forgot about the massive book on her desk, her eyes fixed on his face as if it bore the answer to all of her questions. Loki’s expression hardened nonetheless, regardless of how much the urge to taste her lips rose within him.

“How much do you know?”

“I know what M told me… that you were his ally and he helped you take over Earth in exchange for the Tesseract.”

Loki narrowed his eyes at her. “Then you know nothing.” Her glance found his lips now too. He was standing close enough for his warm breath to ghost over her mouth, her heart beating more rapidly with every passing second.

Fuck. Her office was being monitored. Sucking in a deep breath, she moved away from him and closed the thick book on her desk shut. “It’s late. We should head to the party.” She cleared her throat. “You can, um… wait for me here so I can get changed. Give me five.”

Loki nodded, taken by surprise until he noticed her glancing at the chunky surveillance camera in the corner of the room. Ah… there it was. The fear or shame or both to be caught being involved with him. Loki gnashed his teeth when she rushed past him, fleeing from the scene. That, at least, was something he was familiar with.

He remained in the office, almost as if glued to the spot, for a while longer before he made his way towards the cafeteria where the festivities would take place. Jess would catch up—besides, so he had to admit, he was indeed looking forward to seeing their faces when he joined the ridiculous little party and what it might give him to work with.

“Really, that’s all? That’s almost a little disappointing.” He heard Dave say in the distance, presumably a few yards away from him, his voice ricocheting through the dark hallway.

Loki stopped dead in his tracks. As silent as a mouse, he leaned against the wall, melted into it almost, and slowed down his breathing.

“Yes…” Another voice that Loki identified as Mobius’, replied. “We did take a risk with them but I must admit, I too almost expected a little… more. I thought one of them might… feel something, you know—a connection or recognition, maybe.” Loki could hear his suit ruffle as he shrugged. “Well, timelines can be unpredictable. We do know that better than anyone else.”

Connection. Recognition? For some peculiar reason, he was certain the pair were speaking about him. Him and… Jess? Who else could they possibly mean? His gut feeling, however, told him that he should, seidr or not, get rid of the security footage in Jess’ office as soon as possible. Whatever it was Mobius wanted to see unfolding between them, he was not going to grant him the satisfaction of presenting it to him on a silver platter.

Fortunately enough, they were too far away to hear him, he realised that once more when Jess’ footsteps echoed through the hallway. He knew it was her without even looking behind himself and yet, found his heart skipping a beat when she touched his arm.

“Ready? You know they might give you suspicious looks as soon as you… what are you doing?”

Loki gave her a disarming smile. “Nothing. Shall we?”

~*~

A/N: Put your swords up, put ‘em up; it’s going down.

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch37: Fourteen Million, Six Hundred And Five Part 2- I Just Feel You

Intro: Our heroes fast begin to realise that this was one fight that they just couldn’t win…and despite their best efforts, disaster strikes.

Warnings: Bad Language words.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: So I HAD to write Thor and Tony’s POV over the IW chaptres too, because, frankly, they had some of THE best scenes in Infinity War, and I love that freaking Norse God Himbo and chaotic Stark chemistry so bad! I know this is Katie and Steve’s fic, but Steve had so little screen time in this film all things considered…we were so robbed!!! And I filled this full of gifs coz...ya know...

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 37 Part 1

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Katie had no idea how many of the dog like animals she shot, or how long they had been at it. As she glanced around, she spotted Steve was locked in combat with four of them, smashing into them with his shields, his face contorted in anger and concentration. She shot a ray taking down a few to try and give him a reprieve, but even more appeared and then something collided with her, taking her down to the ground with a crash. As she went to get up she was suddenly swamped. FRIDAY automatically yelled out a warning and engaged the shield which kept the most of them from gnashing at her with their ridiculously long teeth, but the sheer volume was preventing Katie from getting up. In desperation, she shot her thrusters and managed to take another few out, but the weight of them on top of her meant she merely moved herself backwards along the ground, she could get no height at all.

“There’s too many of them.” Bruce yelled into the coms echoing what everyone was already feeling. Steve was now that surrounded he could do nothing but shield his face and lash out with his legs.

Katie shot again at the ones on top of her, but it was no good. “FRIDAY…we got anything in this arsenal?” She yelled desperately.

A yell came from Bruce just as the AI answered. “I can super charge the cannon… but it will leave your weapons at fifty percent capacity.”

Before Katie could respond, there was another loud whoosh and blast but this one was different and oddly familiar. Through the minute gaps between the mass of animals on top of her, Katie could just make out a huge flash of flowing light, which was punctuated by a bright spectrum of colour, and then the animals that had been on top of Katie were gone as something flew around, knocking them down, leaving them dead on the ground, their bodies writhing under strands of blue electricity.

Katie lay still for a moment, her chest heaving before she sat up, her helmet sliding away as she looked round with a huge smile, because she knew there was only one possible person who could do such a thing.

At the same moment, Steve found himself free and he too sat up, just in time to hear Banner laughing.

“Oh, you guys are so screwed now!” 

And then the Captain heard Katie’s loud exclamation of glee as she flew into the air at the same time the weapon, a huge axe, flew back to its owner. The beam of light in the middle of the field dissipated to reveal Thor, and rather randomly a Raccoon with a gun, and a tree creature standing by his side.

Katie landed softly beside Steve and she pulled him to his feet, her eyes shining with emotion before the pair of them spun to watch as Thor took one glance around the battlefield steely determination in his eyes, turning his focus to where two of Thanos’ warriors were.

“Bring me Thanos!” He demanded as he ran forward, slamming his axe against one of the nearest creatures, sending it flying away.

Katie looked at Steve again, both of them sharing as somewhat more hopeful glance, before they turned their attention back to the fight.

*****

But unbeknown to Thor, Thanos was on Titan, grappling with Tony, Parker, Strange and the other members of the Guardians.

He was huge, and even without the stones, Tony had a feeling he would have been impossible to beat. Nevertheless, they had banded together, putting the plan into action, and had gained another ally in a blue woman. He had no idea who she was, but the Guardians seemed to, and she was on their side so Tony didn’t question it. They needed all the help they could get. .

Finally, Dr Strange opened a portal, dropping Mantis down onto Thanos’ shoulders. She grasped his head with her hands and focussed her telepathic energy through her fingers, the tips of her antennae lighting up.

“Is he under?” Tony asked, pulling on the bonds he had Thanos’ arm in “Don’t let up.” “Be quick!” Mantis wailed. “He is very strong.”

“Parker, help! Get over here” Tony grabbed hold of the gauntlet and Peter moved to help him. “She can’t hold him much longer. Let’s go.”

Quill landed in front of Thanos, grinning as he began to taunt the Titan. “I thought you’d be harder to catch. For the record, this was my plan. Not so strong now, huh? Where is Gamora?”

“My… Gamora…” Thanos grit out, groaning as Mantis kept him under control

“Oh, bullshit.” Quill shook his head “Where is she?”

Mantis gave another small cry. “He is in anguish.”

“Good.” Quill glared at him whilst Tony and Peter were still wrestling with the gauntlet.

“He… he… mourns.” Her voice was shrill and louder this time.

“What does this monster have to mourn?” Drax ground out through his teeth, his voice strained with the effort of keeping hold of Thanos’ other arm.

It was the blue woman who answered, her eyes shining with tears. “Gamora”.

”What?” Quill looked at her and Tony glanced up, a cold feeling spreading across his stomach.

“He took her to Vormir.” She whispered, horror flooding her face. “He came back with the Soul Stone, but she didn’t.”

Tony grasped the danger of the situation and immediately slid back his helmet and looked at Quill. “Okay, Quill, you gotta cool it right now, you understand?

But the man wasn’t listening. He turned slowly to Thanos, so Tony tried again, shouting his plea desperately. “Don’t, don’t, don’t engage, we’ve almost got this off!”

“Tell me she’s lying.” Quill shook his head before his voice became enraged “ASSHOLE! Tell me you didn’t do it!”

 “I… had… to.” Thanos replied.

.“No, you didn’t.” Quill spoke gently, his eyes filling with tears. “No, you didn't…”

Tony watched as the man continued to rage, and then, before they could do anything he drew his hand back and pistol-whipped Thanos twice in the face, causing Mantis to let go. “NO, YOU DIDN’T!”

“Quill!! Tony gave a yell as he leaped for the man’s arm, his helmet forming back around his head, but by doing so he left Parker alone to keep pulling the gauntlet. As Tony tried to calm quill down he was vaguely aware that Peter was shouting about the fact he had the gauntlet, but as Tony turned he saw Thanos snap out of his trance. He head-butted Mantis, before grabbing the edge of the gauntlet and throwing the woman off his shoulders.

They’d come so close, but their plan hadn’t worked. And now the fight was back on. 

*****

Bucky had heard tales about Thor from both Steve and Katie, but seeing the god in person and his power was like nothing he could have possibly imagined. Not least because he seemed to have brought a walking, talking tree and raccoon with him.

A racoon that was now stood shooting a gun into the crowd of creatures.

“Come get some space dogs!” The animal fired his weapon and Bucky, who was a few feet behind him, spotted one of the dog things leaping at him. He grabbed the animal by the scruff of his jacket and held him at arm’s length, spinning around, firing his own M-249 at the same time.

“Come on, get some, get some, GET SOME!” The racoon yelled, before they were clear and Bucky dropped him. He looked up at Bucky with an impressed gleam in his eyes.

Fuck, an impressed raccoon? Jesus Christ, Steve dragged him into the strangest shit at times.

“How much for the gun?” The racoon asked as Bucky fired off another burst of rapid fire.

“Not for sale.” Bucky replied simply.

“Okay, how much for the arm?”

The animal wanted his arm.

Bucky had no words, he just gave him a look and, as he walked off, he heard the racoon mumble.“Oh, I’ll get that arm.” and despite himself, Bucky gave a little snort as he jogged to where he was needed.

At the same time, elsewhere on the field, Steve and Katie were fighting in tandem. Steve slammed a shield into another two creatures as they leapt at them both whilst Katie jumped into the air, shooting and taking down another four. Just as the next group was about to hit them, another shockwave rocked the field, destroying the pack which was running towards them. Katie looked down to Thor who was stood a few feet away and she landed gently between him and Steve.

“New haircut?” Steve asked, his voice slightly winded as Katie retracted her helmet.

“I notice you’ve copied my beard.” Thor shot back, grabbing at his chin with his hand. Steve nodded, and gestured to his face with one of his shields, still catching his breath. 

At that point he looked past Thor to see the tree creature at his other side extending a branch or arm and impaling three creatures on it, lifting them into the air. Something that should have shocked Steve, but he wasn’t sure if anything could shock him anymore.

“Oh, by the way, this is a friend of mine, Tree.” Thor gestured to the creature.

“I am Groot!” The tree yelled, slamming the creatures to the floor.

Katie looked at Steve who was breathing hard from the exertion of battle. But still, ever the gentleman, he introduced himself politely to the tree-boy in return placing a hand to his chest.

“I am Steve Rogers.” He paused looking around the battlefield seeing that, at least for a moment, they were in a respite with the Wakandan warriors handling the Outriders surrounding them. Katie observed Thor for another second before he grinned at her and she threw herself at him.

“Man am I glad to see you, I thought…” She stumbled over her words as Thor chuckled.

“I’m fine.” He smiled, reaching out to wrap an arm round her metal cased back and return her embrace, lifting her slightly off the floor as he did so.

“But Banner, he said your ship…and Loki…”

“I’m the God of Thunder.” He shrugged slightly as if that explained everything, and then he sent his axe flying once more and set Katie down, as a pack began to surround the three. Katie reengaged her helmet and they continued fighting.

“What happened to your hammer?” Steve asked as the three of them circled, before he took another creature down with a blow to the head.

“My sister.” Thor grunted, throwing his axe again.

“You have a sister?” Katie frowned, shooting another creature with a beam.

“Had. She’s dead. I killed her. Well, a big fire demon did.” Thor caught his axe before swinging it straight into the head of one who had jumped at him “I thought Banner might have told you?”

“He mentioned it yeah, but to be honest we’ve kinda been a bit busy.” Katie’s teeth grit together as she off-loaded a shot from her shoulder gun to a creature which hit it straight between the eyes. It slumped to the floor but at the same time the ground began to shake.

“That’s errr…that’s not me.” Thor shook his head as Steve looked at him. The three of them turned to watch as the trees outside the barrier began falling being crushed by whatever was coming, then the dirt underneath the inside of the barrier moved like a wave and from it mechanical wheels like chainsaws sprung up.

“Fall back!” T'Challa’s loud voice sounded in their ears as the wheels separated, “Fall back now!”

“GO!” Steve yelled, looking at Katie and she shot up into the air. As she flew over the field she looked down and saw the wheels split all going in different directions taking out the creatures and Wakandan warriors alike with ease. The machines didn’t seem to have any particular form of control or direction, just mowing down anyone in its path. She looked up as Sam and Rhodey joined her on either side.

“FRIDAY scan this thing for weaknesses…” Katie instructed. “The axle.” FRIDAY said, focussing in on it on the heads up display “You need to take it out.” “Go for the axle guys!” Katie swooped down. “Same time…” “Focus all fire on the left flank” Rhodey ordered as they began to shoot their various weapons.

“I’m doing it,” Sam replied firing his guns where he was instructed but it was having little effect. Eventually, they managed to take one wheel down but as Katie circled up she saw that Natasha and General Okoye were right in its path, but so absorbed in the battle that they almost missed the set of chainsaw wheels coming straight for them, almost. Katie yelled a warning over the coms and was about to swoop down to pull them both out of harm’s way when suddenly Wanda dropped down in front of the other two women and surrounded the wheels in her red glow. She lifted them up lifting it up into the air then grunted throwing it back at a swarm of Outriders.

As Katie spiralled back upwards Okoye’s frustrated voice hit her ears. “Why was she up there all this time?”

It was a boost having Wanda on the field, Okoye was right, but the unease in Katie’s chest was rising as her being down there meant it left Vision open. Katie and Rhodey went back to try and take out another one of the huge wheels, but then they both stopped dead as Sam’s urgent voice called out. ”Guys, we got a Vision situation here!“

Katie looked over in the direction of the palace, just in time to see the android crashing out of the glass.

"Somebody get to Vision!” Steve instructed loudly, before he was sideswiped by another of those damned dog things.

“I got him,” Bruce responded

“On my way,” Wanda’s voice also said. Katie turned to find her on the field, and as she did she saw one of Thanos’ warriors hit her hard across the face with her staff and she fell into one of the large trenches that the chainsaw-like wheels of the machine had created.

Katie swooped down to help, Natasha also sprinting across the field, sliding down into the trench behind the blue woman. As Wanda struggled to her feet, Katie landed next to Natasha.

“He will die alone,” the blue woman growled at Wanda, and then to add even more insult looked added, “As will you.”

“She’s not alone.” Natasha said simply. The woman turned around to see Natasha and Katie there, and then at the other side of her Okoye landed, spinning her spear, pointing it at the horned alien.

“Get to Vision.” Natasha looked at Katie who hesitated. “Now, Nova! Our priority is that stone!”

With a nod, Katie took off again, flying towards Vision’s locations as Friday locked onto him. But, as she flew she was hit by something and landed hard on the ground, her suit dragging along the dirt. Instantly she took off again, kicking one of the animals off her leg as it hung on, its teeth crunching into the metal of her boot but it soon fell limp as her thruster blasted straight through its head.

Meanwhile, Steve was running like he had never run before, and as he reached the clearing in the trees he saw one of the aliens bent over Vision, the tip of his staff trying to pry out the stone from his head. Steve tackled the alien at full speed, his shoulder driving into the man’s waist.

“Get outta here!��� He yelled, jumping up as he began to trade blows with the alien, using his arm-shields to both land and deflect the blows. There was no movement so he turned to Vision again, issuing another instruction. “Go!”

Steve kept blocking the alien’s weapon using his shields, finally knocking it from the alien’s hands just before he was thrown over a fallen tree and pinned by his opponent’s hand at his throat. Steve struggled, grabbing at the fingers gripping round his neck, but even with his physical abilities, he was struggling. But then suddenly, there was a familiar repuslor blast to the alien’s back which made him yell out, his grip on Steve lessening a tad, and then the blade of the staff emerged from the alien’s chest. Steve saw him splutter, then choke, before he dropped Steve completely to the floor.

Katie landed besides him, her helmet sliding off as she offered her hand to pull him to his feet. Behind her, Vision cast the alien aside before collapsing exhaustedly to the floor.

“Thanks.” Steve panted, his breath ragged as he gently cupped Katie’s face before he strode to Vision. “I thought I told you to go.” He sighed, hauling the android to his feet.

“We don’t trade lives, Captain.” Vision replied simply.

**** Tony was beginning to realise they had no chance against Thanos. But that spurred him on even more, because if he got the rest of the stones, well it didn’t bear thinking about.

With one last attempt he flew at Thanos, who deflected the blow and picked him up by the helmet and blasted his midsection with the Power Stone. The gaps in nanite coverage were now extensive, as his armour was losing the ability to recover from the intensity of the damage. Tony struggled to one knee, and fired his right hand repulsor at Thanos, but he might as well have been using a fucking water pistol for all the good it did.

Gritting his teeth, Tony got to both feet as his suit tried to complete repairs, adding the beam from his left to the one from his right. Thanos walked right up to him, and backhanded the incomplete helmet off his head. Tony’s eyes grew wide as he crossed his arms to block a blow from Thanos’ gauntlet, the Titan caught his left hand and in desperation, Tony formed what was left of his right glove into a short sword, which Thanos easily caught, snapping it off clean before driving it through Tony’s left side.           

Tony’s body seized up in pain as Thanos walked him back until he collapsed onto a rock, looking up at the man who had stabbed him with shock and hatred, blood bubbling in his mouth.

 This was it. Thanos was finally going to kill him, after six years of nightmares.

“You have my respect, Stark.” Thanos spoke almost with a hint of regret. “When I’m done, half of humanity will still be alive,” he let go of Tony and straightened up, “I hope they remember you.”

Tony’s thoughts flashed to the people on Earth, more specifically Pepper and his Sister. He had failed them, again. His visions were coming true. He drew in a pained breath, the copper taste of blood surrounded his senses as Thanos raised the gauntlet, closing his fist and all four stones began to glow.

“Stop!” Strange yelled, sitting up painfully as he looked at Thanos. “Spare his life… and I will give you the stone”

“No tricks.” Thanos turns to him and Doctor Strange shook his head.

Despite Tony’s protest, Strange handed over the stone and Thanos dropped it into the thumb setting on the gauntlet, the energy pulse making him wince.

“One to go.”

 At that point an energy blast hit the gauntlet right in the empty Mind Stone setting and Thanos grimaced in surprise as Quill, who was screaming in incoherent rage, flew towards him, firing with both hands. Thanos didn’t even bother responding to the assault. Instead he conjured up a portal and simply left.

Star-Lord flew through where Thanos had been and crashed, rolling several times. “Where is he?” He stood up, his helmet sliding away.

With a grimace, Tony managed to stich up his stab wound as well as he could with his suit functions, but he was still weak and had no breath for answers.

“Did we just lose?” Quill asked, his voice now fearful.

Tony turned to Dr Strange and looked at him, shaking his head sadly “Why would you do that?” His voice cracked slightly. After everything they had done to try and stop him getting the stone, after the Wizard himself saying he wouldn’t hesitate to let anyone die to keep it safe, he just handed it over.  

“We’re in the Endgame now.” Dr Strange looked at him. And Tony could do nothing but sigh, and slump back against his rock, hoping that the guys on Earth would fare better than they had.

*****

Before Steve, Katie and Vision could move they were joined by Natasha. As she turned to speak to them she suddenly stopped, as a light wind whipped around them, causing them all to spin on the spot.

Something big was coming. Steve couldn’t explain how he knew, but he did. “Everyone on my position, we’ve got incoming.” He pressed his finger to the com in his ear while glancing sideways at Katie, the pair of them stood by Vision, the feel of unease and silence that had fallen over the clearing was getting even more oppressive.

“What the hell?” Natasha mumbled from behind and Steve swallowed turning to Katie who looked up at him. Neither of them could voice what they were feeling, both of them understanding that this could very well be their final stand.  Katie felt her chest tighten as she felt a single tear of fright, love and pride fall down her face.

“I love you.” She whispered and Steve took a shaky breath.

“I love you.” He replied in kind. “Till the end of the line.”

Then, across the clearing from them, a cloud of grey and blue began to form from nothing. A huge man, purple in colour, encased in a deep golden armour stepped out from the grey and blue mass.

“Cap, that’s him.” Bruce pointed out obviously, because honestly, who else could it be?

Steve raised his shields and took a few steps forward as Katie moved backwards to stand with Natasha and Wanda, both stood in front Vision.

“Eyes up. Stay sharp.” Steve commanded beginning to charge forward, leaving Katie behind. He knew that if all else failed, Wanda was going to have to make the decision to destroy that stone, and he also knew that Katie wouldn’t want her to be alone when she did.

Bruce reached Thanos first, using the rockets on his suit to launch him up in the air and, as his hand clenched into a fist, Thanos raised the gauntlet on his left hand and Bruce’s suit turned blue and see-through, his body flying through Thanos’ rather than colliding with it before it was encased in the rock at the side of a hill face.

As she took stock of what had just happened, Katie glanced across at Natasha and saw a look of fright on the blonde’s face. A look she had only ever seen once before, when Bruce had transformed into the Hulk for the first time and they had been trapped in the cargo bay of the Hellicarrier all those years ago.

Steve reached Thanos second and jumped, aiming to punch him in the face with his shields but he was stopped dead in his path, a purple glow encasing his body simply throwing him to the side and out of sight where he crashed to the ground, his head spinning as everything went hazy.

Shortly behind him, T’Challa was also cast aside like a rag doll and then Sam was grounded easily.

Nothing could touch him.

“Wanda.” Vision breathed from behind them, and they all turned to face him. “It’s time.”

“No.” Wanda’s voice shook and Katie glanced back and forth between her and the Titan as he was advancing.

“They can’t stop him, Wanda, but we can. Look at me!” Vision demanded forcefully “You have the power to destroy the stone.”

“Don’t.” She cried, trying to pull away from his grip a third time.

Katie turned back to the fight in time to see Rhodey drop out of the air. When Bucky tried to fire at the Titan raising his gun and running towards him, shooting bullets wildly, he was also cast aside, the same way Steve had been. All their attempts to take the Titan down so far had been simply hopeless.

“You must do it Wanda, please.” Vision continued to plead and Katie turned to the young woman whose bottom lip had begun to wobble.

“Wanda.” Katie looked at her, her own voice cracking as well with the impending action they were about to take. “I can’t begin to imagine how you feel but Vis is right. You have to destroy it.”

The tears were forming in Katie’s eyes. All she could hear over the yells and noise was Steve’s voice telling her he loved her. But right now she had no idea where Steve was, she couldn’t see where Thanos had thrown him. She understood completely what Wanda was feeling, and faced with the same choice she knew she’d be reacting exactly the same.  But, with Thor seemingly also nowhere to be found, it appeared there was no other way to stop the Titan. 

The stone, and with it Vision, had to be destroyed.

“We are out of time.” Vision spoke gently, his hand wrapping around Wanda’s as he brought it up against his cheek.

“I can’t.” Wanda whispered looking at Vision then over to Katie for some form of guidance.

Katie could offer none.

“It’s alright,” Vision took Wanda’s hand and opened it up, “you could never hurt me. I just feel you.“

As Katie watched, Wanda looked over her shoulder and then she let her power flow, her face contorting into so many emotions, it broke Katie’s heart to think about what she was feeling. Her attention was called back to the fight when someone yelled, this time Okoye. Natasha took a deep breath, looking at Katie as they now found themselves the last line of defence between Thanos, Wanda and Vis. They had no choice but to try and buy Wanda as much time as they could.

Natasha went first, but it was pointless, she was cast off to the side somewhere and Katie stood, drawing herself up to her full height, helmet, shield and weapons ready, knowing full well it wasn’t going to stop him.

But Steve was up and running again. Thanos was advancing on his wife and he wasn’t going to let that happen without a fight. He threw himself into a slide, the momentum carrying him under Thanos’ legs and as he went he aimed a swipe at the back of the man’s calves and knees with his shields. As he jumped to his feet, Thanos aimed a blow at Steve’s head, but he caught the gauntlet in both his hands. 

Gritting his teeth, Steve put every bit of strength he had into holding off the blow as Katie flew in, her repulsors firing at the Titan which made him lose concentration for a moment, but only a second. Then, in the corner of his eye, Steve saw the other fist powering towards his temple.

And then it all went back.

As Steve crashed to the floor, Thanos caught Katie easily round the neck. Both her hands shot up, her fingers trying desperately to prise his away from where they were crunching around the shield of her suit but to no avail.

“Another Stark.” Thanos mumbled, and before Katie could respond, he trew her up into the air, shooting her with a shot from the power stone. The beam of energy hit her square in the chest, killing her reactor, and she was sent spiralling to the right, where she collided heavily, head first with a tree.

As Katie lay motionless on the floor, her suit falling away, she could vaguely hear noises, the sounds of fighting and yelling. Then there was some sort of huge explosion before the world swam around her, and her eyes fluttered shut.

How long she was out for, Katie had no idea, but as she came round, the first thing she noticed was that it was deadly silent. She could taste and smell dirt, and opening an eye, she realised she was led, face down on the forest floor somewhere. With a groan she lifted her head, and, as she glanced across the clearing, she saw Steve was led roughly ten feet away, also face down and still out of it thanks to the force of Thanos’ punch.

“Steve.” She whispered to herself and pushed herself up, half crawling, half running towards him. As she reached his side, there was a sudden flash of green light which surrounded them, but Katie’s attention was completely focussed on her husband who lay motionless on the ground. “Steve.” She gently shook him, her eyes swimming with tears. “Baby, please, get up.”

She could hear Thor yelling something, and felt a surge of hope in her chest that the God had entered the final fight, and that hope grew even more as Steve gave a little groan, and started to move, turning his head as he lifted it up from where he was laying in the dirt. 

“Hey.” She greeted him and he sat up, shaking his head, before he instantly reached out to cup her face, scanning her for injuries. 

“Your suit?” He grit out and she shook her head.

“It’s down, it-“

Before she could explain the pair of them were jolted by Thor’s loud cry which seemed to linger in the air around them.

“No!”

They both looked round instinctively and as they did so, a blinding white light seemed to pulse towards them. Steve instinctively pushed Katie down to the floor, curling his body around hers in an attempt to shield her from whatever it was. He kept his head low, eyes scanning around and once he was satisfied it was safe to do so he moved, his eyes fixing on Katie’s whose were wide with fright.

“Steve, I don’t know what’s happening.” She whispered, and Steve swallowed, looking round as he could hear Thor was shouting again but he couldn’t quite make out the words.

“Come on.” He rose to his feet, offering Katie his hand and she took it. Once she was stood, his hands fell to her shoulders, his eyes searching his wife’s face and she nodded to tell him she was okay. Turning, Steve hissed at the pain in his side and clutched at his ribs, looking around, half expecting Thanos to appear and make another run at him. “Stay close to me.” He looked at Katie, the fact she had no suit worried him a little and he wanted to make sure he kept her by his side, not that it would do much good, but he’d die trying if he had to. 

It soon became apparent that he wasn’t going to need to, as when they reached the edge of the trees they’d both landed between and emerged into the clearing, there was no sign of the Titan. In fact, the only person they could see was Thor. The god’s broad back was hunched over, his shoulders rising and falling with the force of his breathing, the air deadly silent.

“Where’d he go?” Steve asked, spinning around, unease flooding his chest.  “Thor?”

Thor finally turned and met Steve’s eyes, then Katie’s, and it was not a comfort, in fact it made Steve feel even more concerned. The god looked utterly shattered, and still he gave no response.

“Steve?” Another voice cut in sounding as confused as the rest of them felt, and he turned to see Bucky looking down at his arm in disbelief as the limb was disappearing into ash, the gun in his hands fell to the ground followed shortly by the man himself as he just disappeared.

Steve blinked, not sure what he’d seen. An icy cold feeling churned in his stomach as he took a few steps forward before falling to a knee and reaching out, touching the ashes and dust that was all that was left of his best friend. He turned to look up at Katie, he was utterly confused, disbelieving even. 

Katie, in turn, was numb with shock. She stumbled forwards, dropping to her knees besides Steve, her hand hovering over his as she stared at the spot on the ground where Bucky’s gun lay.

“I don’t…” Steve frowned, looking at her. “What the hell…”

Katie couldn’t speak. She looked up and round, her eyes falling on Thor as another cloud of dust and ash whirred around the clearing near where the god was stood and it was then that she noticed Thor was stood about a foot away from Vision, who was led on the ground. His body now a bland shade of purple-grey. She reached out for Steve, but at that moment he rose to his feet, walking slowly over to where Thor was stood, his steps heavy, laboured almost. Katie pushed herself off the ground, her own feet felt like they belonged to someone else as she walked numbly over the clearing, as Steve fell down to his knees, shakily reaching out to roll Vision’s lifeless body over.

It was then that Katie’s eyes locked on the hole in the android’s head and in the corner of her eye she saw Steve drop backwards sitting on the ground with a huff, looking up at her, utter disbelief and sorrow flooded his handsome face as they both shared a moment of understanding. Thanos had taken the stone, and done exactly what Banner had warned he would do. 

“What’s going on?” Rhodey’s voice cut across the silence as he voiced the question on everyone’s mind. “What the hell is happening?”

Katie turned to face him, her eyes misting over as she looked around at the group of people stood in the clearing. Thor, Banner, Rhodey, Natasha and Rocket. There was no one else, only them. No Sam, no T’Challa, no Bucky, no Wanda. And no Tony. Her hand flew to her mouth as she tried hard to stem the tears and sob that she felt bubbling up inside her, and instead she turned, dropping to her knees besides Steve, reaching out for him.

“Oh, God.” She heard his voice crack as his back slumped against Visions body, his arms pulling her close as the group simply remained silent, numb in the realisation that for the first time ever, The Avengers had lost.

*****

Chapter 38

**Original Posting**

[star-killer-md]

Dream a Little Dream of Me Pt. 6

Hi, so I’m just gonna leave this here and pretend it didn’t take me for fucking ever to get this done. Also like real talk, my classes are starting up soon and I’m working multiple jobs so updates from here on out might get a little sparse. I AM BY NO MEANS GOING TO STOP WRITING IT. Just like, it’s gonna take me awhile or the chapters might be shorter, who knows (not me). Anyway, I hope you enjoy this shit show and if you have any theories about where the hell this is going or critiques or just general explicit thoughts about Kylo please hit me up! I love you all, I hope you’re staying safe and healthy <3333

AO3 Mirror

Part 5

Warnings: nsfw, mirror sex, male masturbation, unconscious reader so not dub-con but just so you know, Kylo’s POV in some parts, I threw in some size kink if you squint cause he’s a big boy, possessive Kylo, slight boot kink, I think that’s it?

Ship: Kylo Ren x Negotiator!reader

Word count: 9.4k (god I’m so sorry this really got away from me)

He was looking at you.

Really looking at you.

Hadn’t until now.

But that wasn’t completely true. Of course he’d looked at you—noticed you, heard all the dagger sharp curses you threw his way like a child put in the corner impertinent and prideful and intoxicating in a way that pain often is. So, yes of course he’d looked, but you hadn’t been important.

And that was not to say that you were important now, just that—

Just that the sea was churning behind him, crashing against the shoreline and the Force was stirring. It was a wild thing, and sung like the insects hiding in the nearby treeline. He could feel the pull of it, like a chain that swung in the small space between your bodies. Connecting your throats—growing every shorter—rubbing him raw and bloody.

It was in you, whatever it was that tethered him like a boat to the harbor.

He was inside you too

“No one will ever feel like I do.”  

That’s what you’d said.

You were right, as much as he was loath to admit it, no one had ever felt the way you did clenching around him.

There was something primal that made him ravenous to pour himself into you. He was always too much too full to angryangryangry every waking second. Now, finally, it all had some place to go. Some well to fill—a space for all his extra self to belong.

For once, he found there was nothing more than the sound of the sea inside his head.

He wasn’t entirely sure what to do with that revelation.

Who were you? What were you hiding and where was it buried?

Kylo needed to know and you were there, already limp and pliant with no jumbled slur of raging thoughts to cloud his path.

He found that slipping into your mind was one of the easiest things he’d ever done, like following the current of flowing water. Drifting in as if carried by the waves.

Flashes of memories rushed past him, mostly just amalgamations of indecipherable emotion—fathoms of pent up aggression Kylo was forced to wade through in order to reach the black depths of your head. At every turn he was met with his own face staring back at him.

He saw his saber, swinging in a red arch into durasteel paneling, saw himself through your eyes. Felt your awe, felt the stirring in your chest at the sight. He pushed on.

Past shots of offices he’d never seen, a barrage of falsely smiling faces, teeth gnashing, always hungry. He was walking down an endless grey hallway lined with First Order uniforms all towering over him—you—looking down, casting judgement like arrows in his back. Frustration morphed and twisted into a thick sludge of resentment that bubbled and clung to his feet.

With every pop a voice escaped, shouting “everything, everything, everything” in a sick, distorted roar.

And then he found it, the source of the muck that caked his path. A pit, deep and black as pitch that spit up it’s roiling contents and dragged him tumbling down, down, down.

He could barely make it out at first, but as he fell the dim red glow grew bright, crackling and electric and throwing sparks. At the bottom of the well the light bloomed like a pyre, some flaming effigy of pure potential. The heat of it licked at his skin, tracing the edges of every scar like it knew them.

Maybe it did.

Something like a shockwave rolled out through the Force, and he backed away from the raging flames. Back, back, back until he was kneeling again on the shoreline, your cooling body still pressed firmly to his chest.

The feeling of your weight, not cold and dead, but with life still in your limbs was alien to him. Kylo battled internally with the instinct to throw you off him to the ground. He could leave you here, go and wait or never come back at all.

It would be easy.

He could see it now:

Your face twisted, lips pulled back and teeth bared like you weren’t half his size. Like he couldn’t snap your neck with a wave of his hand. He imagined you naked, covered in dried blood and bruises bursting onto your balcony, tits on full display and your finger in his chest, vitriol spewing from your mouth.

It was comical really, how you puffed up like an animal threatened, small but vicious.

Yet even as he considered the scene, his aching knees were unlocking and shifting you, soft cock slipping out in a gush of your combined releases. Kylo swung your legs easily over one arm and climbed back up the beach towards your room.

The sun was starting to rise over the sea, casting gilded strips along its surface when he laid your limp form on the bed. Your skin was marbled with the evidence of your coupling and shone in the light.

Kylo stood silently above you, the ocean breeze occasionally ruffling his damp hair as he brought a hesitant hand to his jaw. The skin was swollen from when you’d raised your hand to him. His fingers dug into the bruise, and the stinging ache of it made his cock twitch. Your face, twisted and snarling and so defiant, so foolish, inches from his before your palm cracked across his cheek.

He dropped a hand down, stroking his half hard length and remembering how your thighs felt crushing his ribcage between them. His hips twitched up into his hand in slow, languid thrusts, precum and your residual slick easing the slide of his palm.

You weren’t afraid to fight back.

Kylo’s teeth tore at his bottom lip as he pumped his cock in earnest now.

You weren’t afraid of him , he realized. But you should be.

Especially now with how his mind was supplying all the numerous ways he could beat you into submission—fuck you into submission. God he’d love to watch you crack, it would truly be a feat worthy of celebration to break the will of a creature such as yourself.

But he couldn’t deny—certainly not while he’s jerking himself faster thinking of how delicious your wet cunt felt around him—that he liked when you bit back.  

His name rolling off your tongue was ricocheting around in his brain and he was sure it was the most erotic thing he’d ever heard in his life, that he would never get enough of it. He’d known that since the very first time he heard it, when you opened yourself up to him and came in his mouth, on his fingers.

A familiar warmth was building in his stomach as he thought of all the ways he could make you say it again. Thought of dipping into your head and erasing everything else but that. So it was the only word you knew.

That sent him, made him spill over his hand, white ropes of his cum painting your breasts. You looked good like that, he thought as he worked himself through his orgasm, breath rasping in his chest.

When he was well and truly spent, he let his overstimulated cock settle back against his thigh and dropped a hand to your chest. His palm spanned nearly the entire width of you, fingers swirling in the mess of his release and rubbing it into your abused skin until you were perfectly glazed in him. The sheen of it glinted in the light, a reminder that you’d been marked and would never know how completely he coated every inch of your body.

Even as the darkness whispered into his mind that this was potential, this was uncharted, this was the dragon that hid in the corners of ancient maps filled with unknown stars, Kylo didn’t tear his eyes away. Didn’t pull his hand from your breast where his fingers dug into the flesh and made their home.

Not until the sun had fully risen and you began to stir from the Force induced sleep he’d buried you under.

Not until the very last moment.

***

You woke to the sound of rushing water. It was dim though, out of focus like an echo nearly faded away. Your eyes were lead in your skull, struggling against opening to the soft light filtering into—

Well into where you weren’t exactly sure.

Thoughts were elusive and seemed to slip from your grasp or sit constantly out of reach. Details stood blurry behind a layer of foggy confusion. It was as if your brain had been frozen and restarted like one of the old monitors on the Bridge, leaving important documents to close improperly. You pushed incessantly against the film that seemed to separate you from full awareness until, finally, it popped and the world came flooding in.

Light, bright and all encompassing was stinging your eyes through the open balcony doors. The smell of salt and sand and sweat was everywhere. You were laying on your bed, the spot next to you cold and vacant—never occupied. Your chest and bare thighs were sticky as you peeled them apart and tried to sit up, feeling the uncomfortable squelch of something leaking from you onto the sheets.

And then you ached.  

The deep kind of pain that extends past your muscles and sent nerves misfiring with every movement. There was not a single inch of you free from the pulsating burn of it. You laid out flat on the mattress, moving your head as slowly as possible to take stock of the damages. Bruises littered you, mottled you in painful stripes. With every new mark catalogued another memory drifted to the surface:

Hips, his hands surrounding your waist to lift you clear off the ground, his cock slipping ever deeper inside.

Breasts, where the Force and his fingers had cupped and palmed and rolled pleasure into your flesh.

Chest, his bitten nails that scratched large welts which stung when you breathed in.

Legs, how he’d ripped you through the churning water and pressed deep into the meat of your thighs.

Neck, you could feel the dull throb of where he’d bitten into the skin, sucked hard and marked you with a small supernova of broken capillaries.

But the sting between your legs topped the rest. He truly had split you in half, his cock massive and leaving you clenching to your very core in its absence. His cum still dripped out of you in a slow stream. If this was the recompense you bore, there was no telling what he must look like.

You recalled the sole of your foot connecting with muscle and bone, the crack of your palm on his sculpted cheeks.

The way his mouth tasted, the fullness of his lips and how warm he was pressed against you with no space in between. The desperation for him, the sweet sting of him moving inside you, sinking into you, the fullness, the absolution. The presence of him not just in your body but in your mind, in your being, the relief of it—like the first breath after years of asphyxiation.

You could feel him still, you realized, a tingle at the back of your neck. A soft, comforting thump when you closed your eyes. Like a heartbeat. Kylo Ren’s heartbeat, faint but present, evidence of mortal flesh and blood. Your head on his chest, his voice a hush under the roaring sea.

“You aren’t going to die.”

It felt like a promise, and maybe it was.

But really, how long could you expect him to keep it?

And that was just the first of many questions. So many questions.

The sound of water was not the ocean, but the shower you realized and it filled the room with a hazy steam from the crack in the door. You thought about joining him for just a second, indulged in the idea of seeing him bare. Seeing the wounds he bore, the ones he let you put there.

But there was no time for that now, unfortunate though it was.

Instead, you tumbled out of bed onto shaky knees that nearly gave way as you looked around for something to cover yourself with, grabbing the first piece of clothing available. It was Kylo’s, you noticed as you tugged the massive black shirt over your head and watched it fall well past your thighs.

It smelled like him. You tried not to think about it too much.

You sifted through the mess of clothing on the floor and finally located your bag and datapad, tripping over yourself to crawl back onto the mattress. New messages flashed on the screen, although strangely none originating from the First Order. Each one another of Gahl’s staff asking you for speech revisions to be approved by the advisory committee and the last one a reminder of the day’s worth of meetings with campaign staff.

You shuddered at the thought. It wasn’t really the meetings themselves that bothered you, that was routine, muscle memory at this point. But it was harder now, harder to sit still and spit out pretty fake chuckles to every pompous politician's horrid sense of humor, harder to slip in silent ultimatums when there was a knife positioned squarely at your back. When you could never truly tell who would be the one to twist the blade or at what point you would have outlasted your usefulness.

At what point it was your turn to become the next example of what pride does to the body.

No amount of whispered half covenants would be able to stop that, regardless of which masked, saber-wielding commander they came from.

Sighing, you tried to quell the constriction in your throat and typed away quick, formulaic responses. A few minutes passed until you heard the shower putter out and the soft sounds of the Commander dressing. He didn’t look at you when he pulled the door open and stepped into the room, shirtless this time and sporting a dark purple starburst that dipped below the waistband of his pants and circled over the ‘v’ of his hips.

You tensed at the memory of your bodies twisting in the surf and glanced away as he silently dug through his discarded clothes.

“That looks like it hurts,” you said, just to break the uncomfortable quiet.

Kylo regarded you in your seat by the headboard, eyes narrowing just a bit when he straightened and crossed the room. He stood by your side, taking the hem of his shirt between his fingers for just a second.

You felt him hum in your head, not nearly as loud as it was the night before, but still there—a pleasant weight in your chest. He liked the look of you drowning in his clothes. Liked the way you disappeared into them. Liked the reminder of how you fit well in the space he left behind. Felt his hand rip away like it had been burned.

“It doesn’t,” he said and turned his back to you.

As if you could hurt him.

You felt yourself flush at his response, electing to simply watch as he plucked another top from one of the piles and tugged it over his head. You lamented silently at the loss, earning you a sharp glare from the man in question. Well, at least he was giving you some indication now that he heard you.

“Yes,” he sighed, lowering himself onto the edge of the bed. “You’re incredibly loud.”

Crossing your legs, you sat the datapad aside and leaned back against the headboard.

“Oh, well my apologies,” you rolled your eyes, “I’m not exactly familiar with how this works.”

He scoffed at your hand gesturing between the two of you, “I’m well aware.”

“Is being as aggravating as possible a personal goal of yours or something?”

Kylo’s hand shot out, grabbing your ankle and yanking you down the bed. Before you had the chance to register the stab of pain that accompanied the sudden movement, you were situated firmly on his lap, thighs spread uncomfortably on either side of his hips.

“Is being a defiant little brat one of yours?” he retorted, one hand gripping hard on your jaw.

You tensed your legs against the searing ache and dug one of your knees into the bruise on his side, “Only for you, sir.”

The hand on your jaw slipped down to wrap around your throat, clamping down on the vein there and you felt the surge of blood that rushed to his dick at the memory those words elicited. He liked them in your mouth, he couldn’t hide that anymore and it frustrated him, enraged him that you smiled at the thought. Stars, you supposed if you kept mouthing off like that Atreus would have to speed things up before Ren killed you for him.

Kylo’s fingers twitched around your neck, eyes flicking to the mark he’d left on the joining of your throat and shoulder which had slipped entirely from his shirt. He seemed to be debating with himself before dropping his head and sucking the abused skin back into his mouth.

Your fingers slipped instinctively into his hair. Whether you were trying to yank him off or push him closer, you weren’t sure but then his jagged teeth sunk into the worried flesh and you whined like something wild at the display of dominance and acknowledgment that last night had been more than just another dream.

When Kylo finished with you, he stayed soothing cool mint breaths into the sensitive skin under his lips. You wanted to ask him what it meant—the mark, the beach, the newly filled to the brim, shaking in your fingers feeling blooming into existence in the intercostal spaces of your ribs—but you knew he’d never answer that.

Luckily, the waiting game was your specialty. There was no one better than you at playing the long con. He’d crack eventually, they always did. So you hid your ace and plaid something a bit safer.

“How did I find you in the hall last night?”

The Commander huffed against you, lifting his head to nip sharply at your earlobe.

“Projecting,” he conceded.

“What does that mean?”

His hands drifted to your hips, digging in and forcing you off his lap and onto the floor. The wood dug into your knees and pressed valleys into the skin. Kylo motioned with a hand and his boots obediently floated over and settled in front of you kneeling between his legs. You frowned as he stared down at you blankly and his command dawned on you.

“Really?” you asked, unable to keep the incredulity off of your tongue.

He lifted his brows and rolled his lips together, and you found yourself understanding with terrifying clarity what that meant. If you were going to play games so would he, and Kylo’s preferred method always seemed to be humiliation in some form.

Jokes on him, you thought with a shrug. You had very little dignity left to be squashed under his boots which you ripped from the air by your head. His feet were massive, nearly the size of your thigh as you slipped one into the rough leather.

“Consciousness can be detached from the physical body,” Kylo explained.

His voice lacked any of its usual rasp or vitriol, he was simply saying the words, not forcing them out. You thought he’d make a good teacher if he wasn’t such an—

The boot in your lap ground down harshly into the especially sore spot between your thighs covered only by his thin black shirt. Your cunt ached as he pressed the toe of his boot into your clit. Gritting your teeth against the pain, you kept your mouth shut and nodded for him to continue, pulling taught all the laces from his ankle to calf. The muscles were impossibly hard under your fingers

“The Force can allow you to take advantage of that separation,” he continued, swapping feet when you’d finished the first, “so physically you remained here, and your consciousness was able to project elsewhere.”

Your hands guided his foot past the leather straps and hastened through the last few laces. When the last was tied off, you tried to knock his leg to the side, but he pressed it back between your legs, smearing you with rocky earth and grinding his heel once more on your slit.

“So everything we overheard then, that was real?” you continued, voice strained as you squirmed out of his reach. Shockingly, he let you.

Kylo shrugged examining your slick stain on the leather, “Projection involves a real place and time. Dreams are more abstract.”

You nodded, pulling the fabric tighter around your knees.

“What did he mean?” you asked quietly.

You were pushing your luck, pushing his buttons really but he should be expecting that by now. He owed you this, reparations for months of workplace abuse.

Kylo stared at you, his erection still obscenely on display from your view on the floor.

“Atreus, he said I was ‘in your head,’” you elaborated and Kylo nearly kicked your teeth in with how quickly he stood.

“That’s enough,” he grunted.

You watched on the ground as he walked out onto the balcony. The wind combed through the black waves on his head revealing whitecaps of pale, freckled profile to peek out. You decided to quit while you were ahead, letting him stew. This was the most he’d ever spoken to you in the years you’d worked as his one-woman political clean up crew. Maybe you’d celebrate when there wasn’t a hit out on you.

Stretching out, your eyes caught his mask staring at you dead and resolute from the small night stand. It was heavier than you expected, lined with deep ridges and scars just like the man who wore it.

Head wounds were almost always fatal. Just one blow to the soft flesh of the temple and that was it, end of discussion. They taught you that at the academy. Always aim for the head. You traced the cracks on its carbon black surface and tried to imagine all the people who’d aimed for the Commander’s head, aimed to land the killing blow and failed. You thought of his toothpaste sitting in the vanity in the bathroom. You thought of the bruises on his chest and the blood that had pooled under his pretty skin to cause them. You thought of Kylo Ren dying.

You put the helmet down, pulled yourself off the floor and left Ren to his thoughts.

The bathroom was still thick with steam when you started the shower running. You stripped his shirt from your back and folded it on the sink before stepping in. The hot water felt glorious as it pounded the soreness from your skin. Your fingers brushed carefully over the abstract painting of bruises, the mark on your neck particularly stark in your hazy reflection in the wall of mirrors facing the shower.

You should have expected the Commander would enjoy marking his territory.

Not that you were in any way his territory.

The idea of it certainly didn’t cause a shiver to run down your spine.

When you’d washed the silt and grime down the drain and dried yourself, you left the bathroom and dressed quietly. Your outfit was professional and understated, not drawing the eye and covering last nights events without being suspiciously modest. Kylo didn’t move or speak until you drifted out to the balcony to commune before your meetings began. You leaned against the rail next to him.

“Do you know anything about him?” you asked, gazing out at the waves as the rose and crashed and rose again.

“No,” he responded, and you were thankful you didn’t have to say the name.

It felt greasy in your mouth.

“Right,” your eyes closed against the salty wind, “well I suppose I’ll do some digging then. Know thy enemy and all that.”

He glanced at you, a full once over and nodded in dismissal. You shook your head and turned to head out, shouting back to him over your shoulder.

“Remember,” only your head remained peeking through the crack in the door, “don’t leave this room.”

The door slammed behind you with a crack. Well, he was developing a pattern to say the least, you thought as you wandered down the hall to the drawing room.

***

You did your best to conceal the limp in your step as you entered, slipping easily into the small crowd of legislative staffers and scanning the room. Gahl was nowhere to be seen and neither was his ‘advisor.’ Immediately you felt a weight lifted off your shoulders. You consistently spent among crowds of men who frequently murdered people for political gain, however, you’d miscalculated how much harder it would be to keep your cool when your life was the one on the line.

The room was bright and airy, a small table was lined with furiously dainty finger food which you perused but found no appetite for. You sighed and moved on, trying to decide which inane conversation to insert yourself into when one found you first.

“Good morning,” an increasingly familiar voice spoke from behind you.

You turned to find Lem crossing the room and leaving behind a group of idly chatting aides.

“Hello,” you plastered a smile on your face in greeting as he saddled up. “The Representative chose not to grace us with his presence I see.”

He chuckled, “You really do get right down to business don’t you?”

“That is why I’m here,” you picked a tea sandwich off the table and popped it into your mouth just for the sake of the gesture. It tasted like sand in your mouth.

“Well then, I suppose I don’t mind skipping the pleasantries if you won’t think less of me for it,” Lem conceded and turned to stand next to you, surveying the crowd.

“In fact, I might think more of you.”

You followed suit, taking in the gaggles of people as your new companion passed you a glass of something fruity and expensive.

“Well in that case,” he took a sip and tucked a piece of yellow hair behind his ear, “you’d be correct in your assumption, the old man’s been called away on important campaign related business.”

“Would I be right in assuming you know more than you’re letting on?”

Lem glanced down at you from the corner of his eye and took a sip of his drink, “I think we’re both seasoned enough players of this game to know the answer to that.”

You hummed in concession, “Can you blame me for trying?”

“No,” he admitted easily. “But considering the fact you’ve been casing me like a house for robbery I would have hoped that conclusion would have come faster.  

“I don’t know what you consider ‘casing,’ but I think you might be inflating yourself a bit there Mr. Alba,” you retorted, taking a sip and jolting a bit as the sweetness hit your tongue.

“A politician's assistant with an enlarged ego? Never.”

“Aren’t you a little too self aware to be in politics?”

Beside you, Lem laughed in earnest and you frowned, looking up at him. He wasn’t nearly as large as the Commander, so your neck wasn’t forced nearly to it’s breaking point in the process.

“You’re funny,” he said by way of explanation. “I didn’t think you’d be funny.”

“I’m just as shocked as you are,” you mumbled as a group of people bypassed you out into the hall.

“Well, you’re right,” Lem shrugged his shoulders, “I didn’t initially intend on ending up in government work.”

That was interesting. You felt yourself falling back into an old rhythm. Maybe Lem was onto something—if you wanted to get to Gahl, what better place to start than with the assistant. After all, if anyone wanted to know all the dirt on Hux, you were certainly the best person to ask. Why would this be any different?

“Is that so?” you prodded, hoping he’d continue on his own.

Of course he did. These people loved to talk about themselves.

“The Representative was a family friend and I was but a directionless youth bringing shame upon our good name,” he lamented, gesturing dramatically to a false, sympathetic audience.

“Was it kindness or pity then?” you asked, smiling and nodding to one of the campaign managers when she dipped behind you for a fruit tart.

Lem huffed out a laugh again and shook his head, “Gahl wasn’t always like this, I recall him being far more benignant when I first started.”

You latched on to the remorse in his tone: a soft spot in the apple. A perfect opportunity for you to worm your way in and feast on the flesh.

“It's an occupational hazard, really,” you glanced at his profile through your lashes and caught the faintest twinkle of vulnerability in the set of his jaw, “the constant power struggle drains one dry of any remaining empathy.”

“Hm, that’s certainly part of it,” Lem continued and downed the rest of his drink. “But he hasn’t really changed all that much until this election season.”

You’d broken the skin, now it was time to dig a bit deeper.

“Gahl seems pretty cut and dry, from what I can tell,” you locked your thighs against the growing ache between them from standing too still for too long, “what would you say has changed?”

“Well in all the years I’ve spent working for him, I’ve never known the man to run a smear campaign, not like this one at least. Really you should have seen the ads we ran for him, absolutely brutal,” Lem was nearly ranting now, and it seemed you’d struck the nerve you’d been searching for. “And, I mean no offense, but he’d certainly never have interacted more with the Order than was strictly necessary, much less agree to meet with your Commander what-ever-his-name-is personally.”

God you wished Commander what-ever-his-name-is Ren was around to hear that. The look on his face alone would be better than any orgasm he could give you.

“No, no, I wouldn’t do any business with us either if I could help it,” you conceded and handed Lem a second glass.

“You’re very gracious, thank you,” he accepted the drink and sighed.

You tried your best not to sympathize, but you were weak and soft and couldn’t quite help the pang in your chest. As lukewarm as you were about Lem Alba, you could see the bags under his eyes and the sallow pallor to his skin and you knew the look he wore too well.

Damn your occasional need to not be a total piece of shit.

“Trust me, I understand your frustration,” you let out a sigh of your own.

Commanding officers were a trial.

“And not to mention, ever since he brought on that new advisor, he’s had no need for any of my input,” Lem grumbled, pinching the bridge of his round nose.

Well, never mind, maybe your horrible lack of apathy was going to come in handy.

“The slimy one?”

He turned to look down at you with an incredulous smile, “Yeah, that’s the one.”

“What does he call himself?”

“Atreus,” Lem said, rolling his eyes. “Although I’m sure that’s not his real name. He seems to get off on being dark and mysterious.”

You could think of another person who fit that description, and both of them had wanted you dead on at least one occasion you were certain.

“Hm,” you nodded in agreement, “any idea where he came from?”

“None such luck, he just came crawling out of the woodwork one day a few months ago and well, you’ve seen the result,” he shrugged and finished off his second glass, taking yours from your hand and setting them off to the side. “Now, fancy a walk on the beach? I believe it’s my turn to take a crack at hunting for information.”

For a moment, you contemplated the likelihood that you were being played, that Lem was some elaborate plant and today was the day of your demise. But holding you hostage leagues away from crowds would invariably ensure your death would be wasted. Couldn’t stick it to the Order if there was no one around to watch. And not to stroke your own dick, but you were very well versed in picking up on genuine animosity towards superiors.

“I’m not entirely sure what you could possibly want to know that I have the answers to,” you said and turned to face him, “but I would love the excuse to skip a meeting.”

The sand was warm between your toes when you stepped onto the shore. A breeze stirred and kicked up the granules which bit at your skin. Lem walked beside you in silence for a while, swinging his loafers in his hand.  You looked out at the water, mind flashed with reluctant images of two bodies, bare and bruised, rolling in the surf.

“What’s it like?” your companion finally said, pulling you from your not so work appropriate thoughts.

“What’s what like?”

You turned to see Lem shaking his head and looking down at his feet.

“Working for the Order,” he clarified and you couldn’t stop the scoff before it blew past your lips.

“Do you seriously expect me to believe that’s what you really wanted to ask me?”

Lem held up a hand in surrender and swung to face you, “I promise, I’m being perfectly honest.” When you didn’t say anything, he continued, tone much softer under the crashing waves. “Are you always this mistrustful?”

You were certain that was meant to be a rhetorical question, but it triggered a bit of uncomfortable introspection. The answer was clearly yes, that was a given, a requirement. Of course you were, everyone who played the game of politics and treaties and thinly veiled threats was constantly waiting for someone to change loyalties at the flip of a switch. That was the rules, no one ever trusted anyone else father than they could shoot them. Alliances only worked when the playing parties were mutually benefitting or consistently in the other’s line of fire.

Truthfully, you hadn’t trusted a single soul since your academy days, and even that was questionable. You couldn’t trust your staff to do their jobs right, and the only conversations they ever had with you was nothing more than ass kissing lacking in both subtlety and class. The higher ups used you as a convenient garbage dump for all their internal screw ups.

Any human interaction you’d had during your time in negotiations was—stripped down to its roots—simply because someone wanted something from you.  

Intentions mattered, anyone who said otherwise was only kidding themselves.

“Work is fine, pay is good,” you kept your tone short, “why do you ask?”

“Just curious, I always wondered what it would be like to work for them.”

“Well, I’d say it’s exactly what you’d expect,” you backed quickly away from the incoming tide, trying not to ruin any more clothing that you already had.

“I don’t know,” Lem shrugged and followed you farther up the beach, “I figured it would be more exciting than this.”

He gestured around vaguely at the villa and the ocean. Your balcony visible from here, you realized. Soon the two of you would walk right across the patch of sand where you and the Commander had tumbled desperately into each other. When you had—

“It isn’t,” you quickly nipped that train of thought in the bud. “Just the same sport on a bigger playing field.”

“You’re not doing a very good job of representing your product,” Lem quipped.

“Well thankfully I’m a diplomat, not a salesman.”

You were standing right by the path to your rooms now, in between the parted grass you could still see the imprints of massive feet. Kylo must have carried you back last night, cold and wet and debauched. You could almost see him, muscles in his back rippling, your weight barely registering as he walked on legs like tree trunks up the small incline. The water would be dripping off his hair, coating each pretty strand and leaching away its softness.

“Isn’t it all the same evil though,” Lem mused, pausing next to you on the beach, completely unaware of what the sand here had witnessed only a few hours ago.

“Depends on what you define as evil.”

You wondered if Kylo could see you now, if he could hear you—really hear you. Wondered if you’d ever get to know what went on inside his head. Wondered if you’d even want to. Maybe that made you evil. Or maybe you were just weak.

“I think you’d know better than me,” Lem was staring off at the water when you turned and his neat hair parted with the breeze.

“Why’s that?” you asked, facing back to stare into the window to your room, hoping to catch a glimpse of something.

Just something.

“Well homicide isn’t included in my negotiating arsenal for one thing,” he huffed, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets.

“I’ve never killed anyone.”

You didn’t know why you whispered the words, didn’t know why you said them at all, but there they were drifting out to sea like a rudderless ship.

“Why not?”

“Never had too,” you said simply, “not directly at least.”

Lem hummed thoughtfully, “But would you?”

You were still staring up at the curtain covered window.

“Is that what you think evil is?”

“That’s what I think devotion is,” Lem replied simply. “The evil is in refusing.”

A shadow passed across the glass, tall and menacing and real.

“I don’t know,” you said finally, after a moment of silence.

“Don’t know what?”

You shook your head, “I don’t know if I would kill someone, personally I mean.”

“Fair enough,” the sound of skipping shells rang out behind you as Lem spoke, “I don’t think anyone really knows until the knife is in their hand and the throat is under it.”

You aren’t going to die.

You could hear Kylo’s voice and the crashing of the sea—or maybe it was something else, something else entirely that was churning around you. Something red and crackling.

An act of devotion.  

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”

***

You could feel his eyes on you the second you returned. It was well into the night after a day of meetings that ran too long. But one quick scan of the room and you came up empty of brooding men in flowing black robes. Despite his lack of physical presence, you swore you could feel staring, tracking the uneven movement of your legs as you took a step further from the door.

Kylo Ren was here somewhere, you could feel the weight of him, filling up all the extra space in the air.

The sullen feeling of being watched followed you, making your skin flush with gooseflesh, while you stood in the middle of the room. Something moved in the shadows of the balcony. You caught just a twitch from the corner of your vision, the heel of boot pulled back into the dark.

So that’s where he was hiding. Or maybe lurking was a more appropriate word for it.

When your eyes had adjusted to the low light of the moon, you could just barely make him out. Kylo was nothing more than a dark silhouette against the horizon, leaning back against the rail of the balcony. You couldn’t see his face, but you could easily imagine the blank, drawn expression. The regal tilt of his jaw and the sculpted profile of his prominent nose. The slight peek of his ears between dark waves of hair.

You paused for a moment, debating whether or not you cared enough to fill him in on what you’d gathered that morning. Lem had been more forthcoming with you for the rest of the day after your heart to heart and you’d been able to create a halfway decent profile of your target by the end of your last meeting. But there was palpable tension in the room that you couldn’t quite place, and it felt like one wrong step might find you backed up against the wall, feet dangling and throat crushed in an invisible grip.

Turning, you sat yourself gingerly on the edge of the bed and pulled off your shoes. When you dropped them to the ground though, you heard the rustling of paper. Scattered on the floor was the tattered remains of a padded envelope. You frowned, picking up one of the scraps to try and make out the writing.

Your name was scrawled in messy print, torn halfway through.

It was only when you noticed the small shreds of fabric littered among the mess that you realized what you were holding.

“I’ll have one of the aides send for some seaside appropriate attire, you might find you’d like to go for a swim.”

“Let me know,” he cleared his throat, “if that’s not the right fit. I can have another sent up.”

It was the package Lem had given you days ago. You’d nearly forgotten about the awful conversation with Gahl your first night on Coruscant. Some part of you was glad you’d never have to see it in one piece, the memory of his hand on your thigh still made you gag.

You grabbed a piece of the ruined material and felt the rough outline of lace under your fingertips.

From the balcony there came the sound of shuffling boots as Ren adjusted himself and turned away from you to look out over the sea.

“You really shouldn’t open mail that isn’t addressed to you, sir,” you mumbled under your breath, but got no response.

In fact, the entire room was littered with the remnants of your gift from the representative. You wondered how long he’d been sitting there sulking over it. Something in your chest swelled at the thought of him, eye twitching just before he ripped the garment to shreds. You could hear the shout that would have torn through his throat.

Really, he fucks you once and he’s already jealous? Very unprofessional.

The thought did wonders for your ego.

And wreaked havoc on your incredibly sore pussy, that clenched involuntarily against a new rush of warmth.

But however much sick pride you took in exposing the Commander’s inability to control himself, you couldn’t shake the twinge of annoyance that bubbled constantly under the surface of your mind whenever Kylo Ren was involved.  

The boots, the cryptic half answers, the unclear label for whatever the hell had happened between the two of you buried in each other on the sand— that was one thing.

But this was a slippery slope and you weren’t one for simply riding along without question.

“Tell me what you want.”

That’s what he always said, be a shame if Ren couldn’t hold himself to the same standards.

Without bothering to look back at him, you stood back up from the bed, proudly displayed at the center of the room.

Slowly you lifted your arms, pulling away your top and letting it drop with a soft thump to the floor. You didn’t see him turn at the sound, but you felt it. Could sense where his eyes alighted on your bare back. They lit fiery trails wherever he paused on the blooms of broken blood vessels under your skin. You did your best not to shudder under his stare.

You worked slowly, peeling each layer off piece by piece. Made a show of it, ran your fingers along the soft skin of your arms and gave him a lovely view of your ass when you bent down to roll off your socks. You could hear the catch in his breath so faint under the sound of the wind, and wondered if he could see the wetness glinting off your thighs in the low light.

Wondered if he could smell it on you.

Never once did you turn to face him, waiting until you were completely bare to walk ever so slowly into the bathroom, leaving the door wide open behind you. Flicking on the soft lights you started the shower with a frustratingly shaky hand. Warm water rushed through the pipes and drowned out any sound from the main room.

You stepped past the two tile walls that blocked off the shower and let the stream of water tumble over you. It poured like a waterfall, cocooning you in the stream of it. You waited patiently to see what the Commander would do, if he’d take the bait.

Of course he did.

You didn’t have to wait for very long.

He took up the entire doorway when he entered, a massive wall of muscle and sinew that towered over you in a way no one ever had before.

It was thrilling.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, voice low and layered with poorly restrained need.

Kylo was still fully clothed, but the hard outline of his cock was clear against his thigh. You let the water run over your breasts, cupping them as though you were one of those ornate stone fountains.

“What does it look like?”

He rolled his lips, “All I see is a whore who has no idea what she’s getting herself into.”

He was right, you didn’t. But you wanted it anyway.

“Hmm,” you nodded. “So why don’t you show me?”

You stepped out of the water, leaving puddles behind as you crossed over to him, standing just out of arm's reach. Kylo’s fingers clenched at his sides, his neck tilted down to stare at the water running down your chest.

What happened next was not at all what you’d expected.

You’d thought he might snap the way he often did, might yell or bend you over the vanity and give you even more marks that would smart in the morning. But he did none of that.

Instead he lifted a single hand, his arm impossibly long and reaching you despite the distance. The second his fingertips landed on your skin, the world went black.

You felt like you were falling, your stomach doing flips as you tumbled through darkness. Everything was coming in flashes. Your feet—well no not yours, Kylo’s you realized—sticking in viscous black sludge that clung in sticky trails along the skin of your—his—legs.

A pit, gaping and horrible.

Something burning, something blistering and crackling and raging red. It rose above you, flowing strangely like liquid sloshing and rolling like a flash flood and you staggered back. Something was rushing by your ears, light blurring in front of your eyes like a ship just about to jump into hyperspace. All of sudden, you were hurtled back into the present gasping and pitching forward into the Commander’s solid chest.

He didn’t push you away, just stood as you breathed him in and tried to plant your feet firmly on the ground.

“What was that?”

Your voice sounded so small after the intense roaring of whatever he’d shown you. Kylo’s hand threaded into the hair at the base of your skull and yanked back until your knees buckled under the force and you hung limply from his grip.

“You would do well to listen when I say you have no idea what’s at stake here,” he hissed and you clawed at his hands.

“Maybe if you bothered to explain it to me, I’d be more inclined to agree!”

He shook you violently and you tried to kick your feet under you but the slick tiles offered no leverage. Kylo dropped a hand, fumbling with the button on his pants.

“I think you’re far too busy parading yourself around like the little slut you are.”

In one smooth motion, he freed his cock from the confines of his trousers. It was just as massive as you remember, red and leaking white beads of precum. He gave it two long strokes, holding you at eye level with his dick.

You really ought to keep your mouth shut, but despite the pain in your scalp, your cunt was clenching at the sight of rock hard and weeping for you.

“Am I a slut or are you just a possessive bastard?”

You could pinpoint the exact moment Kylo Ren snapped. The change was subtle, a short grinding of his jaw, just a flicker of his eyes before he had your head slammed down on the vanity, ass up and knees spread for him to settle between.

His hand in your hair tilted your head up so you could watch as he guided his length to your soaked lips. He coated himself in your slick, circling your entrance and nudging your stiff clit with every stroke.

“Watch and you tell me,” he grunted before ramming his cock into you.

It burned and stretched until you felt him in your throat, a choked moan rattling out of your mouth. You could do nothing but watch your reflection, tears beading at the corners of your eyes when he pulled out only to thrust back in. Kylo set a savage pace, the sound of slapping skin and his groans echoed around you.

You watched his face in the mirror, flushed bright red, one hand still on your head and the other steadying your hips as he drove into you. The drag of him was delicious, pulling pleasure out of places so deep you’d nearly forgotten they existed.

“So desperate for your Commander’s cock, aren’t you?” he growled, draping himself over your back.

His chest pinned your harder into the marble vanity, crushing your breasts against the cool surface while the hand on your hip reached around and pressed hard into your stomach just above your pussy.

“Feel that? Feel how this cunt was made for me?”

Kylo’s head dropped to your shoulder and his teeth sunk into the flesh, muffling the obscene moan that rumbled between his ribs when you tightened yourself around him. You whined, nipples straining against the cold stone and neglected clit begging for attention.

“Kylo, please,” you sobbed, forgetting the game entirely, all confidence leaking away and replaced by a hunger only he could sate.

“No,” he snarled, rearing back and yanking your head up with him. “You don’t get to beg now.”

You were absolutely ruined, skin more bruised than not and mouth hanging open in a silent cry. He met your gaze through the mirror, and you were entirely convinced it was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. Kylo’s lovely brown eyes were completely black with lust, his hair a crown of sweat soaked curls and a lovely blush that spread all the way to his ears. Plush lips pulled back to show his crooked teeth that splayed out like white gemstones.

He looked every bit a dark, magnificent prince. A fallen angel or a devil or any number of cruel celestial beings—in any case the man above you could not be human.

And yet, you knew he was.

You’d been gifted with the evidence of it, painted him with purple blossoms and seen him bare with scars and freckles and your favorite mole above his gorgeous full lips. The way his breath always smelled like toothpaste.

In all your life you’d never been known to take orders well from any man, but staring at Kylo Ren as he pounded his massive cock into you—meeting you head on without restraint, a comeback always at the tip of his skilled tongue—you thought you might not mind it so much if it was him.

And then his hips stilled, and he was looping your arms around his neck and pawing at your thighs before locking his arms under them and lifting you up, back against his chest.

“Fuck, Kylo—” you yelped at the change of angle and the strength of his arms to keep you aloft.

The shower sprayed down on him, soaking his clothes as he leaned back against the tile wall and fucked you on his cock. The mirror provided a full view of your bodies joining. You watched entranced as his arms flexed, biceps bulging while your pussy swallowed his length and your tits bounced with every thrust.

“That’s the only name I ever want to hear out of your mouth.”

He turned his face into your neck, lips and teeth sucking and nipping at the skin. It was too much, too much and not enough and you were overcome once again with the feeling of something filling in all your hollow spaces. And you knew in your bones straight to the marrow that the pit filled with churning, crackling magma was bubbling up again, accepting everything Kylo poured into you.

You clung on to the feeling and shouted through it.

Kylo, you called, breath coming in ragged gasps.

You were so close from just his cock in you, but it wasn’t enough.

You weren’t sure if anything ever would be.

Kylo, you repeated it like a holy word, long forgotten and imbued with the power of ancient gods.

He buried his head deeper into the column of your throat, squeezing his eye shut as if that could block out your cries.  

Kylokylokylokylokylokylo, you chanted in a never ending string until the dam finally broke and you felt his thoughts slipping into you like they’d always belonged there, like there had always been space for them.

It was all too jumbled for you to parse any meaning from it. Snippets of red hot anger revealed themselves to you in a shower of manilla paper. Voices, dark and malevolent whispered of challengers and danger and design. Your body, motionless on the bed painted in ropes of his release and the comforting weight of you in his arms, real, alive, willing and wanting.

Take me, if you didn’t know better you’d think he was the one begging, take all of me .

You nodded and nudged him with your nose until his lips were crashing against yours in a flurry of hot tongue and teeth. His arms left your thighs which remained impossibly in place, held up by invisible hands as he grasped at your chest, rolling a hard nipple under his thumb while the other found your clit and finally, finally rubbed frantic circles around the neglected nerves.

Kylo’s hips never stopped their frantic pace, his cock reaching its limit inside you, and finally he was cumming, sheathed in your heat and pumping you blessedly full while he sent you tumbling over the edge with him.

And as the waves of pleasure radiated over your skin, boiled in your bloodstream—as Kylo licked the backs of your teeth and swallowed down every cry that left you—everything faded out around the edges once again, although now for much more pleasurable reasons.

***

When you opened your eyes again, you were laying in bed. The sheets were damp, but not uncomfortably so.

And this time, you were not alone. Kylo’s hands, massive and all encompassing were splayed against your stomach and chest, one cupping your left breast gently in his palm. His body engulfed you from behind, bare skin hot against yours.

So hot, you thought something inside him must be burning.

Maybe it was.

Kylo? you wondered silently, unsure he could still hear you.

I’m here.

His hand on your chest flexed as he pulled you tighter. Something told you this was not the first time he’d held you like this, there was something too practiced about the placement of his body.

What is this?

You weren’t exactly sure what you meant by that, but he seemed to understand the question.

He was silent for a moment, I don’t know.

The lie was apparent the moment the words drifted into your head. And confirmation was echoed back to you. He knew, or at least knew some of it, just wouldn’t tell you.

That was okay, you hadn’t really expected anything else.

You’re safe with me, he whispered instead.

And that was not entirely true either, in fact you would not be here if not for him. But all of this had a certain inevitability about it that you couldn’t place. A feeling that this would have happened regardless, or a version of it with the same outcome.

You closed your eyes against the thought and nodded, letting yourself be held like you had so often dreamed of on lonely nights in your small quarters

You were safe then, safe but empty.

And really, that was so much worse.

---------------------

Taglist lovelies;

@thewilddingleberries​ @kit-jpg​ @findyourdarkness​ @contesa-lui-alucard​ @isaxhorror​ @obsessionprofessional​

[slasherkisss]

Hey! Omg requests are open! Okay I've had this one in my head for ages so here it is! Could I request like a one shot or headcanons on how your of Emry met his s/o? I love him a lot and really need more content for him lol. As always I love your writing!

[I am so flattered that you enjoy Emry so much! It means so much to me that he has a few fans lol. I wrote way too much for thiS SO I HOPE YOU LIKE LONG ONESHOTS-]

Feral

“Fucking pieces of shit,” You cursed to yourself as you kicked a stray rock somewhere into the foggy void of the forest around you, “Why is it always me who has to go ‘find help’? If they had just stopped at the last gas station and filled the air in our tires they wouldn’t be bitching about anything because they wouldn’t be stranded!”

It was supposed to be you and your friend’s last road trip together and, now, it was simply you in the forest as you wandered along a path one of the guys had noticed hidden tight against the edges of the overgrown Louisiana brush. A drawing of straws and a few more rock, paper, scissors matches later had determined that you were the unfortunate soul to explore the singular dirt road in hopes that the end would find you either at a small town or a home with a working phone that could be used to call for a tow truck back to the town that was now far too many miles away for you to walk.

Not that this was any fucking better.

Your body shuddered, not only because of the humid chill that seemed to set itself into the mossy earth, but because of a... sensation of some sorts. A strange feeling that burned into your stomach as your eyes became all too aware of how dark it was getting. Of how heavy the air felt and how thick the world around you grew on your back as your shirt stuck to your body with the sweat of walking for as long as you had been.

A snap of a twig echoed somewhere behind you and birds cawed angrily into the background, making you stop and turn your head with wide eyes. Your heartbeat echoed in your ears as you gazed against the thick trees and shrubs that obfuscated your vision from any possible danger. Your breath shook as you promised yourself that it was just the wind. Just an animal moving through the underbrush and minding its own business as it foraged. 

Peter told you about how pigs were the most intrusive species in the south nowadays. That was probably all it was, right?

You stood in the forest, debating whether to keep moving or step back as you moved your feet back and forth with an unsure bite of your lip.  You didn’t like this. It was like you were being watched... no... more than that, maybe?

Maybe you were being hunted.

Your feet moved then, but you were unsure of what direction other than forward. Forward and away from the beady nothingness that seemed to overcome your senses and rage at the instincts in the pits of your stomach as you moved.  Your walk had slowly turned into a jog and now that was beginning to turn into a run as the mist nipped at your heels like hungry hunting dogs, barking and baring misty teeth at your skin as you hurried with hot, ragged breaths into the night.

Your foot caught on a loose branch, sending you tumbling forward as your ankle made a disgustingly loud cracking noise under the pressure of the sudden juxtaposition. You cried out, catching yourself on the palms of your hands and letting the rocks and twigs dig into the tender flesh as you lay there, breathing heavily as the world around you spun with adrenaline. The silence was deafening around you and you saw a single drip of sweat fall from the tip of your nose down to the floor, where the earth soaked it up with greedy desire.

A crack and a growl echoed around you, the heavy snort of something inhuman shuffling in the dirt made your stomach curdle like spoiled milk and you dared to look upwards with a swallow.

The boar standing before you was massive. You had seen pigs at the petting zoo before but this was not one of those cute, domesticated little things you fawned over so much as a child certainly. Its tusks curled in on itself, sharp and fierce to match the drool along the rest of its teeth. They were stained with what looked to be the trace remains of blood against dirt and your hands dug into the foliage beneath you as you tried to move your feet. The warnings about the aggressive wild hogs eating human flesh made your blood run still as you winced in pain against your clearly broken bone. 

The pig shuffled and snorted, its drool increasing as it caught your scent. Its squeal was painful on your ear drums as tears welled in your eyes. Was this how you were going to die? Your mind raced as you stepped back in terror, shuffling on your stomach in hopes that it, somehow, wouldn’t see you.

You didn’t have to.

There was an additional crack in the brush and a growl far more terrifying than the one the pig had squealed out reverberated in the depths of your mind. The shuffling of the earth increased at a fervent pace, as if matching your heart, and you barely registered the blur of a form that broke itself out into the clearing with you and your swiney captor.

The sound of the struggle would haunt you for the rest of your life, just as the sight would. A blur of a human had tackled the menacing creature down to the floor, wrestling vehemently as the pig squealed with anger and surprise. Matching that noise was a set of chattering teeth and snarling growls as the being raised a large, curved hook into the air and sunk its end into the pig’s flesh, making it scream louder as blood spurted out of an artery that the cool metal hit. 

It took you a moment of staring to taste the blood on your lips. To register the blurry vision of your gaze. To understand that the blood had spattered on you as the pig’s tusks gnashed and clawed with its own fight of frustration. The struggle lasted for longer than you could understand, time blurring together in your shock until you watched the creature - no, you corrected, the man - reach down with two hands and wrench the creature’s jaws apart, snapping them and its head with a sickening break of bones and rendering it limp in the darkness.

All was quiet then, save for the sound of the man’s breathing as he gazed down at the prey he had killed.

Shirtless and with long, tangled brown hair that molded with grit and blood at its ends, the being stood well over six feet tall. Though you could only see his back, you would be fool not to notice the definition of muscle in the shape of his back, each shape curved with years of athletic exercise and unstoppable power. Scars littered the back and curled around his side to the front, where a chain wrapped itself sturdily against his body. You guessed it was attached to the hook. You didn’t move. You didn’t breath.

The being lifted something off of his face and leaned down. You caught the faintest glimmer of a hungry, wide, and drooling mouth in the moonlight before he descended downwards.

Fangs pulled greedily at raw flesh. They broke through the thick skin and gristle of the dead boar and pulled at the tendons with a fierce movement of his jaw. More blood splattered across the being and he spit out the hunk of useless fur and unchewable skin before reaching down with a free hand and spreading the new wound open to gain more access to the meat beneath it, like a treasure trove.

Handfuls of that sickly copper scented flesh was scooped open and thrust into his waiting mouth. The forest echoed with the heavy, disgusting chews of something you were now sure was just as monstrous as the pig it had killed. 

What could you do? What should you do? Your mind panicked.

Slowly you shifted your body, seeing if you could at least crawl a decent length away from the sight before you. To somehow get back to your friends and the safety of your car and-

A twig snapped and his head snapped with it, his gaze forward as he finished a mouthful of raw flesh. You cursed under your breath as you tried to sit up.

The man slid something down his face this time before turning to face you, chest heaving with an out of breath echo as he grabbed your gaze with his own. 

It was a mask he was wearing, the design hand crafted and messy to say the least, with one eye hole that watched you with the careful deduction of a predator. Your stomach twisted and you didn’t move again, gazing into his eyes as well as the two of you sat there for a long, endless moment of quiet in the world.

“Um... I think it was... going to eat me,” You whispered out awkwardly as you pointed to the pig, “I... Um... thanks for... eating it instead?”

Another scalding silence. The man tilted his head, some of his messy strands of hair falling into his masked face as he did so. The action would have looked cute on a being that wasn’t holding a giant hook and dripping with fresh pig’s blood. You simply stared back into that bright, curious green eye that held your gaze like a serpent’s might its seductor. You felt like, if your mind would panic less, you might be able to have a telepathic conversation with this guy.

Then he started to crawl towards you.

His fingertips dug into the earth beneath them, his limbs suddenly far too long for his body as he made his way over on all fours like some sort of feral animal. Your fight or flight reflexes echoed again and you scrambled away, only to cry out in pain as your ankle reminded you of its painfully broken sections of bone. The scream did not make him pause in his movements. He did not stop until he was in front of you, the nose of his mask touching your own and his hot breath filtering around the edges of his mask and hitting you with humid gusts. You held your own breath, fearful of its effect as the scent of blood and gore overpowered your mind. 

A hand reached out, touching the ankle that was broken and giving it a squeeze. You cried out again as his hand tightened and then let go, as if experimenting. He tilted his head again.

“I... I broke it.” You whimpered out, shutting your eyes tight, fearing that your fate might be one shared with the pig’s who had made you run so fast. 

Instead you were suddenly weightless. Your gaze snapped open to find yourself above the ground, in the arms of the masked man who had previously terrified you. His hands smeared blood on your arms and gore soaked into your clothes as his entire form overwhelmed your own with its mere presence. You felt the cold of the chain and the hook dig into your flesh, giving you goosebumps as the edges of his bloody hair tickled your face and made you gag with its rotting scent. 

And suddenly you were carried off into the darkness of the woods with nothing but apprehension to keep you from screaming in terror in the grip of such a feral monster. 

[ohohosero]

shower time

let’s hope this one turns out well~

It’s maybe 4 AM in the morning, you and Bakugo go to the same college and go to the same housing complex. 

___ 

warnings: sex, nfsw, couple smacks on the booty, head (receiving) 

i think that’s about it , if there are any other warnings lmk and i’ll add them. 

word count: 3726

“No, no!” you banged your hands against the wall of the dorm’s showers, “come-on!” you once again tried to turn on the hot water for your shower. Waiting for a few minutes, you went and tested the temperature again but it was still ice cold. The hot water just had to be broken the moment when you tried to take a shower. Normally, you would’ve just waited for it to be fixed, but you desperately needed to bathe. 

Training that night had been extra difficult and you were a sweaty disgusting mess- at least that’s how you felt anyway. From someone else’s point of view, it wasn’t even that bad, just a very thin layer of sweat gleamed and glistened on your skin. No smell or anything, but you just needed to shower. 

You headed back to the hallways, dressed in a white robe with nothing on underneath. The robe had pockets, two in the front near the opening, and one of them had your phone in it. 

You took it out and looked at the time, 3:32 AM, jesus fucking christ. Would anyone be awake at this time? You called Deku first, but there was no answer. Then you called Sero, he didn’t pick up either. Kirishima and even he didn’t pick up. That was the list you had that would have definitely let you use their shower. They were also maybe the only guy friends you could actually count on.

Well, there was always one more option. But he made you so nervous just to think about. Moreover, you were currently standing naked in the dorm’s hallways, so you really didn’t have an option. 

You started to call Bakugo. It rang for a couple of times before you heard him pick up. 

“What the fuck is it?” his voice was gruff, you bit your lip. This is why you didn’t call Bakugo. You have the fattest crush on him. 

“Bakugo . . .” you started hesitantly. He huffed into the phone.

“Spit it out already,”

“Can I use your shower?” it was silent on his end for a little bit. You were nervous and resting against the wall. It felt like he was taking ages to respond and it only put your nerves on hyperdrive. 

“The hell? What’s wrong with yours?” you could hear him shuffling around on his bed. Did he wake up from your call? 

“The hot water won’t work... and I really need to shower,” you started making your way down the hall, heading towards Bakugo’s room already. You don’t think he wouldn’t let you use it. You could hear the sigh from his end of the phone and could envision him just running his hand down his face. Pinching the space between his eyebrows and closing his eyes. 

“Just hurry the fuck up then,” then he ended the call. You smiled and slid the phone back into one of your front pockets. Now you were able to have a nice and hot shower. Well you were happy and maybe just a little fluttery. You’re naked underneath this robe and headed to the boy who you had a bit of a crush on. 

Okay, maybe it’s more than a bit of a crush. It was a massive ass one. Just why wouldn’t you have fallen for the crazy mad blonde? You’ve never ventured past the far ropes of your friendship over the years. The four years that you had known him for. You had butted your way into his life just as Kirishima had, which had obviously annoyed the fuck out of him. 

But he wasn’t as harsh on your friendship in the beginning as much as Kirishima - which you were overly thankful for. You don’t know if you could have handled the way he treated Kirishima. 

You knocked on Bakugo’s door. 

Anxiousness was pooling in the bottom of your gut, did he fall back asleep? Did it take you too long to get here? You slid you body against the door and began to reach for your phone to wake him up again. You dialed his number once more and could hear shuffling inside of his room. You pushed off the door last second before he opened it. 

Bakugo was in a white tank top, his blonde hair so much wild than it normally was and sweatpants that hung low on his hips. You could see the brand Calvin Klein on his boxers, just peeking over the brim of his pants. 

“Took you damn long enough,” he slid out of the door way and sauntered back over to his bed and flopped down. He didn’t seem to be surprised at your white robe attire, and not gonna lie you felt a little disappointed. Would you ever be more than a friend to Bakugo? 

“Thanks again,” and you headed towards the joined bathroom in his room. All you could hear from him was low grunt of recognition before he tiredly raised his hand to shoo you away. 

While you headed to use his shower, Bakugo was inhaling deeply through his nostrils face flat on the bed, in fear that you would’ve noticed. The fact that he may or may not consider you to be more than just a friend to him - but ruining the friendship of four years was at stake. He doesn’t know if he could handle never being able to be look at you again with the same appreciation you do now. 

But when you came up to the door in a white robe, evident nothing underneath, he had retreat to his bed so quick. He just seemed to have a rush of blood in a private area.

He could hear the water being ran in the bathroom and just absolutely couldn’t stop himself from imagining you in it. He grabbed a pillow from his bed and buried his face into. Damn you. 

Well rather damn himself, he was the reason he was this way anyway - so he should really be blaming himself. It’s his own fault for thinking this way. He can’t help but imagine the girl who he likes, in his own shower at whatever time of god it is right now, and above all being naked in his own room. He was going to drive himself crazy. His hands were tugging at his blonde hair in his own sexual frustration. 

He groaned into the pillow furiously, before snaking his arm to grab his phone. The time read 4:27 AM. How fucking long have you been in there? Just what are you doing?

Bakugo flipped onto his back looking at the ceiling of his room. He was really frustrating himself. As for evidence of that? He looked down at the erection he had poking at his sweatpants, that was evidence enough. 

You shut off the water to the shower and looked around the bathroom, there wasn’t a towel in sight. Just how exactly did he ever dry off? You slid the robe on, but it felt unusually sticky against your skin due to the water messing with the fabric. It made you slightly uncomfortable. 

You were as wet as can be and your body was making puddles everywhere as your feet stepped onto the tiled floor. 

You stuck your head out of the bathroom door and saw Bakugo lying face up on the bed and his forearm covering his eyes. He seemed to be asleep. You couldn’t walk out into the freezing halls, sopping wet. 

You walked across his room to reach him. He looked so peaceful. The light from the bathroom was filtering through the small crack of the bathroom door and just gently caressing his body with the glow it gave. Shirt raised slightly revealing the Calvin Klein boxers you took noticed of right before, and the sweatpants. Impossible for your eyes not to wander onto an area that peaked your interest; a slight boner?

Oh my.

You could feel the slight feeling of arousal just falling from your head into your stomach. You swallowed, then bent over to shake him on the shoulder. 

“Hey, Bakugo,” you shook him a little rougher until he moved his arm out of his face and the expression that was on it made you want to kiss him right then and there. His face was neutral, but it was the eyes had you pumping heat into your core. 

When Bakugo woke up to you shaking his arm - he really wasn’t expecting this type of view. You were slightly illuminated by a soft yellow glow he presumed to be coming from the bathroom door. You were dripping water all over the place, and the white robe left so much but yet so little to his imagination. He was getting turned on. 

“What is it,” his voice was extremely coarse. You stood back up fully before gesturing towards yourself. 

“I need to dry off, and you have no towels,” you could hear him scoff at you. 

“If you need to dry off so badly,” you took notice of him slowly sitting up before pushing himself off the bed. He walked closer to you until your bodies were just barely touching. He leaned into your ear and breathed on the shell of it, inducing a shiver to erupt throughout your body. 

“I can dry you off,” he whispered. He gave you the opportunity to pull away or maybe even reject his advances. But he didn’t expect for you to pull him up against you and even whisper in his ear, “then do it.”

That’s all the confirmation he needed before roughly kissing you. And personally, for you, it was almost as if it was your first kiss. A fresh breath of air being introduced into your lungs and you were breathing for the first time. He was aggressive no doubt. You could feel the ‘frustration’ he was feeling prodding into your left thigh as he kissed you. He wasn’t delicate either, your teeth occasionally gnashing and tongues were being sucked. 

His more often than yours and it absolutely thrilled him. 

The kiss was Bakugo in essence. Explosive and impulsive, but yet still skillful and tentative. Your hands were massaging his scalp and back as he kissed you. You were both waddling over to the bed where he really threw you down. You bounced a little before he settled on top of your body in one swell swoosh. He was no longer kissing, but now trying to mark the blank canvas of your body with his nipping and sucking on your neck. 

It was delightful pain that was just sending wave upon wave of arousal to your crotch. 

You could tell he was having fun with it as he seemed so eager to dance his tongue along your neck - afraid he wouldn’t have time to reach all the places he desperately wanted to mess up. 

You weren’t a loud moaner, but when Bakugo nipped the area right where your collar bone was protruding - you made it fully aware to him that that was the spot. And boy did it rile him up. 

His hands were soft against your skin as he was careful to not touch you in areas you weren’t ready to be touched in. You could notice this, so grabbing his hand and pulling it off you, it forced Bakugo to detach himself from your neck. 

He was straddling your legs with you underneath him. He was able to see your form even in the dim lighting. He could see your hands slowly untying the belt to your robe. He could see you slowly pulling it off to show off a delectable sight that made him even more hard than he already was. He could see you especially well when your hand took hold of your left breast and slowly kneading. Your eyes were on him the entire time.

From there, he wasn’t shy about where he should touch you. His hands busied themselves with anything they could to elicit soft moans from out your mouth. Your hands were residents of his hair, squeezing the locks as he gave you pleasure you didn’t know you needed. 

Bakugo was having a fair day with your boobs - they were so... they were just so perfect! The size, the shape, the feel and everything to them were better than he could have ever imagined them to be. And he was fucking adoring them. 

He was making a fiery trail down your stomach and you couldn’t keep your body from lurching with each kiss he gave. It was a dream and you were living in it. His hands were now resting hesitantly on your hips, not sure if he should move the last bit of robe out of the way. 

“Look at you being so shy,” your voice was soft and breathless. Bakugo looked up and glared at you. 

“I don’t wanna hear anything from you,” he gave a small smack to the right side of your thigh. Just as a warning and you bit your lip in the anticipation. He pulled the rest of the robe out of the way and even though you were just teasing Bakugo about it, you were shy as well.

He was a man you liked, quite a lot, and for him to be looking at the most sensitive parts of you? It took everything you had to not just weasel out of his grasp. 

He gave a tentative lick, testing out the waters and seeing how you tasted on his tongue. But after one lick, he was relentless. He ate you out like his life depended on it, observing how you reacted with the different things he did. Fitting his tongue between different folds and latching onto your clit, swirling it over and over the tiny and sensitive bead. 

“B-bakugo!” your hands were gripping and pulling from the way he had attached himself to your pussy. It felt so unbelievable good, it was crazy you didn’t even have to dance with the devil. 

He grunted against your pussy in response to your moans. He was determined to make you orgasm all over his face. To have your fluids drenching his face and him happily drinking from such a sweet source. You were extremely close, and he could tell by the way your thighs were trying to crush his head. He was relentless slurping everything you had to offer - and it left you heaving broken moans out of your mouth. 

Your stomach began to clench and un-clench and as you came on his face, you whispered a quiet ‘Bakugo’. You weren’t a loud orgasmer, so Bakugo could barely hear your words of pure happiness stringing from your mouth. He was so proud of himself. 

“Thank you for the meal,” he licked his lips and looked up at you from between your legs. You could see the slick from your pussy coating his chin and a shit-eating grin on his face. You sat up and wiped his chin with your finger, gathering whatever was left of you and sucked it into your mouth. 

That wiped the smile right off his face as he hurriedly climbed on top of you to kiss you again. You were more bold this time, however, and you ran your hands to reach the bulge that just had to have been painful for him. You could feel him slightly buck his hips forward at your touch. He pulled away from your mouth and started panting into your neck. 

Your mouth was right next to his ear and with some uncertainty you whispered, “please fuck me Bakugo...” you gave his ear a slight smooch and you have never seen a human being freeze so quickly and for so long. It worried you that you had said the wrong thing and opened your mouth to take it back. 

“I thought you’d never ask,” he licked up your neck to your jaw and gave a rough peck on the side of your mouth. He stood back up and damn near ripped off his shirt. The yellow glow from the bathroom light defined his muscles so well and he just looked perfect. Next were his pants and lastly his underwear. You were craving for the sight he was going to show you and the fucking he was going to give you. 

When he finally pulled down those Calvin Klein boxers you were eyeing, you could not hold the small smile on your face. He looked... amazing. 

You don’t even know how big it was, but it was definitely bigger than anything else you had before and that made you nervous.

“Quit staring dumbass,” Bakugo looked off towards the side and you could just faintly see the blush creeping up his neck. 

Grinning you grabbed his hand and he fell on top of you, his cock fell on your stomach, mirroring the pathway it was going to have inside of you. 

“Do you need any prep.. preparation?” he looked at you through his hair, showing such a caring face for you. You shook your head no, you should be okay. Right?

“Go for it, Kat-su-ki,” you annunciated his name being sure to be extra dramatic with how your mouth shaped the words. 

“Say it again,” he positioned himself right in front of your pussy. Your body was oozing desire.

“Katsuk- ahh~” you were cut off as he slide inside you. The stretch of your walls around him and the grunts and subtle curses of Bakugo were damn near orgasmic. You clenched around him and Bakugo’s slow push in stuttering into a rough buck into you. 

“Fuck.. dammit, what the hell is your pussy why is it,” he grunted as he slid back in and out, “ah fuck, why is - shit - so tight?” Bakugo had a slow pace in the beginning. Doing his best to get you adjusted to his cock being inside of you. 

This felt amazing and it felt so right. You were clenching around him, with no indication of letting up even a little bit. It felt good to be filled with Baku- no Katsuki. 

“Please harder, Katsuki.. Please fuck me,” you held your upper body against his chest, running your nails lightly against his back. He didn’t need you to tell him twice, he snapped his hips into yours leaving to you gasp. 

He wanted to hear you moan some more, no matter how quiet you were. 

His pace was just how Bakugo kissed you, like his personality. He had no remorse for slowing down for you, relentlessly slamming into you and even occasionally smacking your ass when he wanted to hear you make some noise. Your mouth was next to his ear the entire time, whispering silent praises as to how good he felt and silent pleas. 

‘Please Katsuki’

‘Katsuki you feel too good’

‘Katsuki your cock feels too good’

‘Suki, Suki, Suki ...’

Even Bakugo would mutter about how you were made for him. Constantly tugging on his cock to enter back into you and just how well your body molded into his. 

‘Fuck, y/n, why are you so tight’

‘Look at how my cock disappears into your pussy’

‘Shit...’

‘Y/n’

The room was filled with the loudest sounds of skin against skin and the silent moans that fled from both your mouths’. 

Nearing your end, you clenched even harder against his cock. His hand came and played with you clit bringing your body into an unknown ecstasy. He would stop touching your clit only to smack your ass loving the way you reacted to it. A yelp and your pussy clamping down on him and went back to play with your clit. 

Your nails were no longer tracing his back lightly, but raking him down. He loved the feeling of it, you were using him as an anchor to the real world and not escaping off to the realm of pleasures only. 

Katsuki was fucking you so desperately and so hard.

“Katsu- Katsuki I’m going to cum,” you barely told him. The words barely registered in your mouth so they slurred along your lips. 

“I can fucking feel you becoming tighter,” he grunted into your neck. He latched his mouth onto your neck and lifted your left leg over his shoulder and for the last few thrusts before you came, his cock battered against the entrance of your cervix. It lead to a heaven splitting orgasm where your eyes couldn’t help to just roll into the back of your head and your body spasming. 

Your pussy quivered around his dick and your fluids gushed out all over him. He fucked you through your orgasm, breathing heavily and hips sputtering against you, but then he roughly pulled out of you to cum as well. 

You were covered in his cum, the front of your torso looking like splattered artwork. 

Bakugo was not as quiet as you when you came, he cursed for every single word as he came. 

‘Fuck, fuck, fuck’

You were both sweaty and tired, but nonetheless Bakugo stood up and went to grab a small towel from his cabinet in the far corner of the room. He wasn’t just about to leave you there, covered in his cum. 

No matter how fucking hot it was. 

After cleaning you up, he put his boxers on again before moving your ravaged body in a different position on the bed. He checked the time on his phone. 

“Are you sure you want me to stay over?” you whispered in the sex-smell filled room. You could hear him scoff from across the room and he went to turn the light off in the bathroom. 

“It’s fucking 5:45 AM in the morning, I’m not letting your dumbass walk out of here in just a white robe,” he climbed into the bed next to you, hugging your body close to him in the dark. 

“I could always run,” you turned your head to look at him. He snorted this time. 

“Don’t be a dumbass, dumbass” he turned his head into the crook of your neck and you could feel the brush of his hair on your skin. 

“You just want to keep me here, huh?” you teased before settling into the position on the bed. 

As you went to sleep you could hear Bakugo cursing you to hell and back but his arms never left your waist, they only got a little tighter. 

___

when i tell you guys i spent two days on this because i didn’t know how to write it goddamn

anyway i hope it didn’t turn out bad :( 

[greenninjagal-blog]

I’m soft for your anxceit so 18/19 with Virgil and Dee?

Oh boy here we go. 

Summary: Virgil’s trading ship is attacked by pirates.

Words: 2281

TW: blood, killing, human trafficking

Quick Taglist: @chelsvans @faithfulcat111 @felicianoromano @holliberries @jemthebookworm @killerfangirl3 @silverflame-wc @stricken-with-clairvoyancy @thenaiads @treasureofpriam

Ao3 || My General Writing Masterlist

600 Pieces of Eight

19. 

“Tie him up,” The man says.

Virgil is not panicking. He is far past panicking at this point. Panicking is an island that Virgil can’t even see on the distance and he is drowning in the sea of hysteria around him.

He struggles against the arms holding him down on the deck, ignoring the threat of the blades hanging just over him– blades that were already slick and red in the mid morning sun and smelled like copper. His arms strain against the grips on him, his feet kick and his back arches. It’s useless though, and he knows it. For every sailor on their ship there had been four pirates, and now?

Now it is just Virgil.

The gruff man who is holding him throws him to the salt dried deck of the merchant ship ignoring the screams from behind Virgil’s gag, the pleads, the curses. His head lands just shy of the puddle of blood that was the only reminder of the First Mate, splattering of crimson that glistened in the sunlight. 

Virgil and the First Mate hadn’t gotten along at all, but Virgil had watched the Pirate Captain run his own cutlass right through him and Virgil had screamed so loud they stuffed his mouth with a leather patch.

Virgil twists his arms until he thinks they’re break right out of their sockets, tears burn behind his eyes, and the gag makes it near impossible to swallow. He feels the rope twist around his wrists too many times to count, knot in an intricate way that only a seaman would have known. 

He had thought they would kill him.

Instead the Pirate Captain, with eyes so light they looked yellow, had looked down at Virgil, as his crew cut into the hapless sailors. Virgil could still feel where the man had clutched his jaw with those silk gloves and forced Virgil to look up at him, at those unreadable eyes, and he could still hear the ringing voice in his head as the man called him “Pretty” and said he’d “fetch a good price”.

They were going to keep him like a pet. They were going to sell him.

And Virgil thinks he’d rather have been tossed overboard or run through with a saber or anything else. 

His chest scrapes at the floor, someone’s hands were in his hair forcing his cheek into the deck. The salt spray tastes exactly like his tears. Some nameless form towering over him shouts a command, but Virgil can’t hear it at all. Their shadows are huge compared to Virgil’s. They block out the sun itself.

Sounds blur together.

The shadow over him swings something downward, heavy and metallic.

And when Virgil wakes up again his legs are being dragged over the gangplank to the Pirate Ship. His head stings and there’s something sticky rolling down his forehead that makes it hard to focus on anything. There’s a pirate on either side of him, dragging him, like he’s a piece of cargo, just another thing stolen off the merchant ship that was stupid enough to attempt to sail this passage when the rumors of pirates and sunken ships were floating about the sea foam.

He blearily watches two sailors lighting torches. The smell of oil burn the back of his throat and his head lolls forward again.

Mercifully, Virgil’s unconscious before they send his trading ship down to the sea floor in a blistering funeral pyre.

When he comes to again, he’s on the floor of a room. For a tantalizingly awful second Virgil truly thinks it had all been a nightmare, that he was still in the seaside inn of Valerie. But the sway of the floor is too familiar, the rocking of a ship was engraved in Virgil’s bones and it makes him want to throw up the mutton they had for dinner the previous night.

A dinner which Virgil realizes, he had with people who are all dead now. They’re dead and he’s not.

They replaced the ropes, and it takes Virgil too long to notice: instead of the chafing hemp fibers, cutting into his skin, there are chains that rattle as he moves sluggishly. The cuffs hook his wrists together and his neck and bind him to the floor with padlocks thicker than than Virgil’s fingers. The black metal shines in the oil lamp light, dark and cold and unforgiving. It’s polished like brand new and unbreakable.

There’s movement across the room, movement that makes Virgil’s breath hitch right in his throat until he can’t breathe at all. 

Its a large room. There’s a physical bed, and a desk not far away where the oil lamps sit surrounded my star charts and maps. The windows behind the desk are covered by dark red curtains that make Virgil think of the blood dripping from the low ceiling to the floor. There’s gold on the desk too, gold piece and an sixpence and pieces of eight that look to be more than Virgil could make in a year of selling his cloths and embroideries. The bookshelves are full, but Virgil gets sick looking at them. 

Someone once told him books are a gateway to the soul, and Virgil wants no part in knowing the soul of a pirate captain who killed handful of innocent men and now had him chained up like a pet.

The Captain is sitting at the desk rolling a six pence between the fingers of his yellow gloves staring at it as if it is the most interesting thing he has ever seen. Virgil is acutely aware that the only thing between them is that desk.

“If you had to guess,” The captain says without preamble, “How much do you think you are worth?”

Virgil is a merchant. His mind runs the numbers even when his throat is to dry to do anything other than gasp for air. He tugs on the chains,putting as much space between him and the Pirate as possible.

“I think perhaps 300 pieces of eight,” The Captain held up the coin and peered down at Virgil. “Unless you are the sickly sort. Are you?”

He’s not, but he feel like he is. His skin burns and bristles at the same time, and his traveling outfit feels like a second skin he is quickly growing out of. His lungs twitch gasp in his chest and his dark hair falls over his left eye.

The Captain watches him for a moment, two, three, before pulling his boots down from the desk and standing up. His steps are measured and sure and Virgil tries to shrink back from them but there’s no place to go. The metal collar around his neck holds his head in place as the Captain forces him to look up at him again.

They’re barely a breath away from each other, barely an inch, and Virgil tries to burrow his head down but the man’s hold is too tight on the soft flesh under Virgil’s jaw.

“Your Captain asked you a question,” The man said.

Virgil squeezes his hands into fists, “You’re– You’re no captain of mine.”

“It speaks,” The Captain sings mildly amused. “Does it sing too? Tell jokes like a court jester?”

Virgil strains to turn his head but hold tightens and the pain causes Virgil’s jaw to lock. He’s body shakes, but his glare is something he got from his mother, and his mother never wavered. “It bites, picaroon!”

The Captain laughs right in his face. With his free hand he uses the pad of his thumb to roll over Virgil’s cheek bone, stilling Virgil with the touch. 

“What a fearsome creature we found at sea,” He muses, watching as Virgil’s face darkens with humiliated blush.

With less than a hand full of inches between them Virgil can see the detailed work in the collar of his black jacket: the golden finery that swirled like snakes up the folded collar and around the hems of the sleeves. It was done with an unsteady hand, an unpracticed hand.

“So speak, creature,” The Pirate says, “How much to do you think you are worth?”

“I’ll make you loose money,” Virgil snarls. 

“I doubt it,” the Captain says oh so calmly. “With hair as dark as yours? Skin pale as snow? Eyes like whirlpools? I do believe you’ll be the talk of the port.”

Virgil gnashes his teeth, but the Captain merely tuts at him and brushes back a lock of his hair. “Unless of course there is a reason you can think that I should allow you to stay on my ship.”

Virgil doesn’t respond beyond tensing his shoulders. The captain seems to find it fit to twist the lock of hair in his hand as if analyzing it. Acutely, Virgil is aware that this was the man who called him pretty.

Not that Virgil had never heard that before: his mother had said his slim face was more fitting for a girl and his father had had joked that a beard wouldn’t have looked good with his eyes. The girls in town had hummed and haaa-ed over him before he had taken to the sea with his parents that first time. Then with salt in his hair the drunken boys in the taverns had begged him not to leave. Their affections had been wasted.

The Captain hums. “350 piece of eight, I think.”

“You’ll pay 350 to get rid of me,” Virgil shoots back.

Those yellow eyes flicker in the lamp light, the corners of his lips twitch. “Then I must know the name of the man who’d cost me so much.”

Virgil’s jaw snaps shut.

The Captain hums again. “Interesting.” He let go of Virgil’s jaw finally allowing him to burrow his head back to his chest. The Pirate took a step back with a dismissive way of his hand.

“I am Captain Dee, The Serpent of the Sea,” He says. “You are aboard my ship the Siren’s Song.” 

“You’ll toss me over board if you know what’s good for you.” Virgil hisses.

Captain Dee’s head tilts ever so slightly, although he doesn’t even bother to look over at Virgil at all. “I wasn’t aware the fish could admire such beauty.”

“I wasn’t aware that the Captain of a ship was a bilge rat.”

Captain Dee hums infuriatingly again. He walks a few more paces to his book shelf and removes a book, with careful intensity. Then without paying Virgil any mind he settles back on his bed and flips it open to a predetermined page.

Virgil isn’t sure why that annoys him. He rubs his own hands over his jaw where the Captain had touched him to where the metal collar kept him stationary. There was something intense about the Captain that made Virgil’s skin prick, the way his focus seemed to zero on what was in front of him, unwaveringly. 

Virgil didn’t think anyone had looked at him that intently before.

And to be suddenly dismissed just as easily?

Virgil grits his teeth as he sits on the floor, listening to the silence of the room. The walls creak and wail, singing their own ode to the sea but beyond that there’s no sound of the crew running the sails.

The silence should have been nice.

But instead all Virgil can think about is how he’s on a pirate ship and if he doesn’t die here, then he’ll auctioned off in some marketplace where he’ll never touch the sea again. About how he’s never going to see the hills of Valerie again and his parents will live on believing that he died at the hands of a Pirate like everyone else on that ship. 

“Why did you kill them?” Virgil asks before he really thinks about it.

Captain Dee raises his eyebrow at him from beyond the book, “I wonder if you realize that any other Pirate would have killed you for talking like that to them.” 

“I don’t,” Virgil picks at the hem of his trousers, “There’s a reason they’re smarter than you.”

Captain Dee smirks ever so slightly. “Mouthy little sea creature.” He flips a page. “They pissed me off, so I killed them.”

“And I didn’t?”

The Captain takes great care to look over at him, “400 pieces of eight.”

“In a choice between getting rid of me and buying yourself a decent cloak, I hope you are prepared to leave the market empty handed.”

“What’s wrong with my current cloak?”

Virgil blinks. “Besides the terrible stitching and embroidery?”

“450.”

“There goes your new hat too.” Virgil snaps.

Captain Dee just laughs at him, yet again. “Will you cost me my entire fortune, little sea monster? 500 pieces of eight.”

“I don’t think you know how currency works.”

“Oh?” He says. “I believe I do. The more valuable a thing is, the more I should sell it for, correct?”

Virgil doesn’t say anything to this because the Captain had put down his book and leaned on an arm to stare at him. In the lamp light he looks like a nightmarish creature that stole children from their beds and terrorized villages like the one Virgil grew up in. His yellow eyes spoke of a promise of something and Virgil can’t quite put a name to the feeling that rose up in his throat.

“And if there is something I decide I can’t live without,” The Captain says slowly, “I should not sell it for anything at all, yes? No matter what price is offered to me?”

The metal cuffs around Virgil’s wrists and his neck feel too cold and too tight.

Dee hums again and leans back to his book. “600 pieces of eight.”

[yikeswtfmate]

Strange Times || Ch. 3

previous part // Strange Times Series Masterlist // next part

Summary: Ray does some thinking. These new revelations are bad news, but maybe he can work around them, until he can’t anymore.

Pairing: Raymond (Charlie Hunnam - The Gentlemen, 2020) x Reader

Warnings: swearing; sexual references and themes; some sadness

A/N: this has been a whirlwind and i’m probably going to take a short break from this fic; i’ve barely scratched this part together so i might need more time to come up with the next part, especially because of what i have in mind for it; i really don’t want to write it just for the sake of it and then be unhappy with how it turned out, so please be patient with me! until then... here’s part 3

A/N 2: should i make a masterlist for this series? i made a moodboard for it this week just bc i was bored so might as well? let me know!

It’s been almost a month and Raymond can’t yet say whether Y/N’s pulling his leg or his skills are starting to fail him, because there is no other explanation for her completely falling off the face of the earth for hours on end without him knowing anything about it. When she told him so nonchalantly about her plans that first night, he expected he’d be able to track her every movement without too much fuss. Y/N Pearson, however, is a woman of many talents, so he was forced to finally admit that she was right in warning him not to underestimate her.

It’s not to say that it’s because of lack of trying – he’s had David tail her Uber for a few days but she somehow managed to slip away, only to pop back up in Oxford exactly the second Mickey started handing him his ass because she was nowhere to be found until midnight. Then he tried tracking her phone, just to find out that she’s been leaving her phone on the coffee table every day, although Rosalind somehow always knew how to get in touch with her (whether she’d let Mickey and Raymond know where Y/N was, was a completely other story). Finally, he decided he’ll just tail her himself, but that backfired when he followed her into a nursery store without too much preamble.

Trying to find his bearings, thoroughly confused as to why she’d enter this shop, suddenly horrified she might be pregnant with a fucking cunt, whoever this fucker is he’ll find his death today, he was startled by a hand slipping on his arm, bringing him flush against her small body. Looking down, he couldn’t help wondering what the fuck she was on about now, smiling innocently at the approaching shop assistant and completely ignoring him.

“Hi, darling!” She thrilled in the most obnoxious voice he’s ever heard. “My hubby and I are expecting this tiny wonder that’s growing inside of me, and we’d like to look at some cute little tiny clothes for this amazing bundle of joy that will grace our lives!”

To say that Raymond never felt more terrified in his entire existence should say something, considering he has three older sisters who each had the right mind to think he was actually their little puppet throughout his entire childhood. Three hours later, after listening to more coos than he’d care to ever experience again and now knowing how much every single stroller in the Kingdom fucking costs, Y/N escorted him outside (still latched like a fucking octopus to his arm, never having let go) and turned to him with another blinding smile that would be more fitting for a snake? Fox? Fucking Loch Ness monster? He’d take anything over her at that moment.

“What the fuck.” He doesn’t even have the energy to try to appear more threatening.

“What, babe? I thought you wanted to know what I’m doing all day. Isn’t that why you and Mickey have been freaking out? That I’m being naughty and doing unspeakable things? I just showed you that I’m being a good girl.”

He looks at her for a moment, his jaw set. Maybe one of these days he’ll just break his bottom teeth from all the tongue biting and teeth grinding he does whenever she opens her mouth. There’s a small part of his brain that lets him know it’d be great to get back at her by spanking her ass until it’s bright red, but he pushes the thought aside and just turns around and starts walking away.

“Hey!” She yells, heels clicking rapidly on the pavement until she’s in step with him again. “What the fuck, Ray? You can’t just up and leave!”

“I can and I am. I’m not putting up with your shit anymore, love. You’re Mickey’s responsibility, not mine, so you can do whatever the fuck you want for all I care.”

“Aw, Ray! Come on, babe, you don’t mean that!”

She grabs his hand, forcing him to stop and look at her. Disregarding the fact that they’re in the middle of a very busy shopping centre and everyone has to get around them, Y/N swings their interlocked hands between them, nearly making Ray think she’s a sweet angel. It’s easy to forget she’s been keeping him on his toes from the moment she stepped foot on British soil, when she looks up at him through her eyelashes, a small smile on her lips, almost – but not entirely apologetic.

He sighs and hangs his head. She will be the death of him, but apparently he has no control whatsoever over his body or feelings anymore, and with an arm around her shoulders, Ray brings her into him and directs her back in the direction of their house. (Their house? Since when did he start thinking of his own house as theirs?) He just wants to go home and maybe erase this whole encounter with something strong to drink.

He’s not even aware they’re holding hands until they are forced to split by an errant toddler. He notices how she smiles over at the little pig-tailed girl, a softness in her eyes that is surprising in a way that strangely warms his own heart. She takes his hand again, interlacing their fingers on reflex, unaware of Ray’s slow blink in her direction. He’s thoroughly enjoying her little display of affection, having more or less been subconsciously craving them ever since she first kissed him.

There’s a flutter in his heart, a missed beat that makes him question this whole thing with Y/N. He’s more than aware that she pisses him right the fuck off, but he can’t help but miss her presence and erratic personality the whole time she’s not with him. One month, and she’s already clawed her way in, gnashing unintentionally at the veins around his heart, until she’s found her way in. With a start, he realises that above all the dirty thoughts he’s had, all the images of her bent form before him, he wants to protect her, keep her safe, tuck her under his arm and kiss her head.

He realises now that whenever he steps down into the kitchen to find Y/N making coffee, still dressed in one of his t-shirts (having been seemingly diving into his wardrobe on a regular basis), bed hair sticking out, eyes half closed, smelling like she’s still dreaming, his heart swells. She would hand him his mug and with her own in her hand, she would trudge her feet behind, peck his cheek and stroke his jaw on her way up to her morning shower. And now, he doesn’t want anything else, but that. That moment to keep happening, every morning, every day for the rest of his life and what in the name of Jesus, Joseph and Mary, what the fuck!

*

“I’m home!” Raymond announces as he steps into the house. For a split second he’s surprised once again at the words he’s just uttered, unsure about how to feel knowing that Y/N is still currently living under the same roof as him.

He was comfortable in his life, alone and uncommitted, sure that he would never find anyone who would understand the sort of existence he’s leading, until Y/N barged into his life guns blazing and fucking up whatever sense of security he had until now. Not to mention that understanding earlier in the week that his feelings for her developed so high as to shoot the fucking moon did nothing to alleviate his irritation with her. If anything, it’s gotten worse, especially since she’d become even more secretive lately, until he snapped at her in the morning before she left with a final slam of the front door.

He doesn’t want to get into another fight with her, not in the mood for another shouting match where he’d try to pry out whatever the fuck she’s been doing. He’s tired of her keeping him at an arm’s distance, but doesn’t want to admit that he’s hurt by her not trusting him enough to confide in him. A tiny voice in his head points out that he hasn’t been truthful with her either – hiding his own feelings can only show he’s a coward, but he waves that away. All in good time, he’s not in a hurry, although the thought of Mickey finding out does more than put him off the whole ordeal.

“Got you that ice cream you kept going on about like a bloody lunatic yesterday!” He shouts, trying to distract himself from the dark thoughts that swirl into his mind.

There’s no response and the house feels empty, cold, desolate. An icy shiver runs through his spine, worst case scenarios running before his eyes. He’s left Y/N at home, having just stepped in when he went out to buy some groceries. He declined her offer of joining him when he saw how tired she looked, but now he fears it was a mistake.

He takes out the gun from its holster, slowly moving around the hallway and now that he’s closer to the back of the house, he can hear a small tune playing from the living room. He steps carefully around that particular creaky floorboard and inspects the space which seems clear. It’s only when he stands next to the kitchen island, that he sees Y/N’s head over the sofa. She’s sitting on the floor, next to the vinyl recorder, chin on her knees, hair falling around her body, as if she’s surrounded by a halo.

Raymond lowers his gun, places it on the kitchen counter, but is unsure what he should do next. This is unprecedented, having never seen Y/N this small before, shoulders hunched over as if in defeat. He makes up his mind, and sits himself on the floor next to her, back to the sofa, close enough that she can touch him if she so wants, but far enough to retreat if she wants to be left alone.

“This was my grandpa’s favourite song.” She murmurs.

She places her cheek on her knee, a movement small enough to allow him to look at her. He notices the tear stains on her face and there’s nothing he wouldn’t want to do more in that moment than to just brush his thumbs under her eyes and kiss her forehead. In time with the lyrics, she starts whispering the words, silently asking him to pay attention. He realises this is important to her, so he rests his head on the sofa and closes his eyes. He vaguely remembers buying this particular vinyl in a dingy shop, thinking it’s one of the most beautiful love songs he’s ever heard.

There’s a shift and Y/N crawls between his legs, curling in on herself on his chest. He raises his arms, placing one around her waist and another one to brush her hair. One of her palms rests on his bicep, drawing slow circles into the soft sweater, and she continues to murmur the song.

Raymond keeps his eyes closed, waiting for her to speak, revelling in the feeling of her skin. Her hair is soft and smells like vanilla, mixing in with the undertone of her cinnamon shower gel, and he wonders whether there is anything sweeter in this entire world than to hold her in his arms.

Rosalind warned him that there’s more to Y/N than the trouble she likes to stir, more than the reckless girl who lunges herself into aristocratic gossip and shitty remarks intended to shock. He’s used by now to the brash personality, peppered with unabashed flirtations and caustic curses, the brilliance of her mind whenever they debate an important subject, the vast knowledge that she still surprises him with. But this is never something he would have expected her to be. This mellow and sad part of her that she’s been hiding so well is the entire galaxy in his eyes, confusing him to no end as to why she would show it to him. She trusts you, Raymond, Rosalind’s words echo in his mind, going against all he thought he knew about her. She’ll never say it, but she’ll show you.

He kisses her temple then, a smile on his lips, but he wants to take her pain away. He wants to stop the tears from falling, although he’s not entirely sure what caused them in the first place. She looks up at him, eyes searching his face, and she kisses his jaw tentatively. It tickles her lips so she licks them, but Raymond stops her in her tracks when he kisses her cheek softly. He doesn’t move back, waiting for her reaction and there’s a question there, behind her pupils, blown wide, unsure and afraid. She moves her face closer until her breath fans over hips lips, and her body turns over his, and now they’re chest to chest. He brushes a strand of her hair behind her ear, thumb caressing the side of her neck. She leans into the touch that now moves up to her cheek, and her head rests in his palm now. She opens her eyes again, waiting, asking, hoping.

This is it, he thinks. This is enough and he gives in. Raymond kisses her then, the sweet scent of chocolate on her tongue, tentatively at first, capturing her lips in a dance that he dreamed of having – it’s different, softer, more meaningful than the rough kiss they’ve already shared. Lavishing her, hands move into his hair, while pulling and sucking at his lips. She shifts again, straddling his hips, leaning into him so he moves an arm on her waist to steady her. She moans into his mouth, the sweetest melody covering his veins and there’s fire in his lungs that spreads around his entire body. They come up for air and he peppers kisses on her brow, her cheeks, her nose, while she places her palms flat on his chest. Her forehead rests on his and there’s a moment where they just breathe each other’s air.

“I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me.” She whispers.

“We both know I have to bruise your ego from time to time so you can come back to reality.”

“You’re too good for me, Raymond.”

He brushes a hand over the side of her head, taming her hair after his ministrations. She leans into his touch again, filling his heart with affection.

“I’m really not, love. I’m too fucked up to ever be good enough, nevermind too good.” He smiles. “And speaking of fucked up, your brother is going to kill us if he finds out about this.”

“Well, that’s a sobering thought. Please, never speak of Mickey when we’re in this position, ok?” She chides, rubbing her hips into his to emphasise her point, which earns her a surprising whine in return. “Oooh, I like the sound of that.”

“The floor is really not the place to be doing this, babe.” He grunts, as she starts sucking and licking at his neck.

His arms find their way to her hips again, forcing her down, trying to create as much friction as possible. There’s an uncomfortable strain to his jeans, and his cock is suddenly even more alert and asking for attention. His unspoken plea is clearly understood and with a giggle, her hands fly to his belt buckle, tugging and loosening. He feels more than sees the zipper opening, fingers creeping under his shirt, leaving a burning trail on his skin. With a grunt, he grabs the back of her neck, bringing her even closer, sucking on her tongue and demanding her own breath. He pulls her sweater off with his free hand while she tries to make good work of removing his jeans.

Raymond warned her that the floor is not fit for this, so he grabs her ass and hoists her up, leaving a trail of jeans, sweaters and shirts behind them as he makes his way to the bedroom, never letting her go. He places Y/N carefully on the bed, intent on making this last, and not rush it into a quick and dirty fuck. He looks at her, splayed before him, red faced and wet lips, such expanse of bared skin just for him. He lowers himself above her, bruising her with another kiss.

“You’re mine now.” He whispers into her lips and she nods, pulling him closer.

Bloody fucking hell, Y/N Pearson will be the death of him.

[nicka-nell]

Chapter 4 – You belong to me (END)

Chapter 3 -  An unfortunate reunion     |     Masterlist    

Chapter: 4/4 (END) | Oikawa x reader

Words: 1.803

Warning: none just fluff

The next day you sleep out because you don’t have to go to school. Ushijima had an appointment with Tendou in the morning and you didn’t do much during the day except prepare dinner. You just finished preparing dinner when Ushijima enters the apartment. When he takes off his jacket, he warps his face. “Are you all right?” you ask him skeptically. “No... I think I pinched some nerve on my back yesterday.” He mumbles to himself. “Okay... Let’s have dinner, then you take a shower, and then I’ll massage your back.” you say with conviction and pull him over to the kitchen table. You eat together and Ushijima takes a shower afterwards. In the meantime, you have already put on your sleeping clothes since it is already late. Only covered with a thin top and shorts you wait for him in Ushijimas room. He’s just wearing his underwear, and he wants to yell at you that he’s going to put on some pants and come to you when he sees you in his room. He looks at you a little red in the face. “Come on... It’s like I’ve never seen you in your underwear before Wakatoshi... You always sleep like that, and you get out of your room a lot like this. Now lie down.” You just laugh and knock on his bed next to you. Nodding, he comes up to you and lies down next to you. You start massaging his back and quickly find the place that causes him pain. After more than twenty minutes Ushijima has now fully relaxed as it suddenly rings. “Did you invite someone?” you ask irritated. “No. Actually, not... Maybe it is Satori? Maybe he forgot to tell me something.” He answers you thoughtfully. Again, the bell rings. Five times this time. “Can you take a look? I’ll see if I can find the pain gel in the meantime. Then I’d put it on your back.” you ask Ushijima and again it rings. Hastily, he gets up and walks to the door still in his underwear. But he doesn’t meet Tendou at the door. To his astonishment, it is Oikawa standing in front of him. With his eyes wide open and speechless, Oikawa looks at Ushijima. “Oikawa...what are you doing here?” he looks at him with dark eyes. Oikawa is about to say something when he hears your voice from another room. “Wakatoshi? I found the gel. When you’re done at the door, you can come to me!” you call with a joyful voice, but in Oikawa the blood boils. “Gel? What? What’s going on between you and (y/n)?” Gnashing his teeth, he looks up at Ushijima and notices the burning in his eyes. “As long as she doesn’t want to talk to you, I won’t let you see her. So go now.” he just answers coolly and pushes Oikawa out of the door to close it. But Oikawa forces himself between the door and Ushijima and enters your apartment. “What’s going on here? Why are you half-naked in (y/n)'s apartment? I won’t let you take her from me! I won’t let you press your body against hers and sleep with her!” He yells at Ushijima. Now you also become aware of whose voice is just heard and who has just entered your home. You step out of the bathroom with the pain gel and look at Oikawa with a sad look. Despair and pain mark his face. “I’m sorry, he just pushed himself in here... I’ll take him outside.” Ushijima apologizes to you and wants to accompany Oikawa outside as you shake your head. “No... I’d like to talk to him.” You’re almost whispering in the direction of the two men. “All right... If that’s what you want. But let me know if you want me to kick him out.” Ushijima nods to you and takes the gel from your hands. “Thanks for the pain gel. I’m going to put this on my back.” He smiles and disappears in his room. “Pain... gel...” irritated, Oikawa looks after him as he turns to you. “What... What is Ushijima doing here...? Are you two together? Did you write me off so quickly?” his voice sounds almost broken. “Wakatoshi lives here... We’ve been living together in the apartment for years. He’s sort of my roommate. And we’re not together either... He’s more like a brother to me and the other way around. But you’re not supposed to give me a lecture. After all, you were the one who kissed another woman.” You sigh and walk towards your room. “Come... You can tell me what you have to say, and then we’ll see.” With a nodding head movement, you wave him into your room. You sit down on your bed, and he tells you everything he told Iwaizumi. You can’t help shaking your head. You still look at the ground and try to avoid eye contact with him. But then you feel his warm hands reaching for your cheeks and making you look at him. His eyes are glazed, and he looks at you with remorse. “(y/n)... I’m so sorry... I'm an idiot... All I could think about was you. Your laughter, your beautiful eyes, your soft skin, your sweet scent... Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t forget you. I only have eyes for you, and I need you. You don’t know how sorry I am for doing this to you. I could slap myself. But please, please forgive me... I can’t be without you. When Ushijima opened the door for me, and then dressed so lightly... Just the idea of him touching you drives me crazy. I can’t see you with another man. I want you by my side, not someone else’s. You're driving me crazy. I'm addicted to you. Damn... Damn... I love you! Please forgive me (y/n).” With tears in his eyes he now holds your hands. You’re in a state of turmoil. You are moved by his words and of course you forgive him. Carefully you lean your forehead against his and breathe deeply. “Tooru... I love you too.” you answer him quietly and before you can speak any more you feel his lips on yours. Rough and a little aggressive he tries to reveal his feelings to you with his kisses. With his hands he pushes you backwards on your bed and walks with one hand along your waist. The other hand caresses your cheek and then makes you open your mouth easily so that he can enter with his next kiss. You kiss deeply and his touch makes you crazy about him. You put your arms around him and hold him tighter. For a second, he’ll come off your lips and grin at you. “Tell me who you belong to.” He breath at you and begins to nibble on your earlobe. “To you...” you answer quietly and enjoy his kisses. When you answer, he starts smiling again. “Very good. Now all I have to do is teach you not to walk through the apartment with such a thin and almost transparent top and wear nothing underneath while Ushijima is here. Even your pants are much too short, my love.” He whispers and slowly kisses himself down on you. First your neck, then your collarbone, your arms... Arrived at your stomach you groan briefly and lovingly he reaches for your hands to connect his with them. “You’re driving me crazy. I can’t hold back much longer.” His voice takes on an almost animalistic tone and roughly he starts to kiss your belly, the sides and your hip. “You don’t have to, Tooru.” You answer him with lust and reach for his hands more firmly. With a sweaty smirk he looks at you as he takes the waistband of your pants in his mouth and playfully tries to drive you crazy with that. You spend a wonderful, passionate night together when you fall asleep in his arms with his calm heartbeat. - It’s been a week since you two have been together. Except for Ushijima, no one knows you’re a couple. You just wanted to keep it to yourself, even if Oikawa wasn’t so excited about it. For today, he has invited you to his school and joyfully you make your way to him. Once there, you enter the gym and Oikawa greets you with a warm smile. You wave to him and sit as quietly as possible on the floor next to the door to watch him train as a dark-haired young man approaches you. “H- Hello. I am a Kindaichi. You’re the manager of the Shiratorizawa volleyball team. To what do we owe the honor?” he asks embarrassed. You decide whether to tell him the truth or lie to him, but Oikawa seems to take the decision quickly. “Hey Kindaichi! What are you doing with (y/n)-chan?” he calls him angry. “I... eh... so...” he stutters before himself. Oikawa quickly reaches for your hand and pulls you up to give you a provocative and intimate kiss. He looks at you with fiery eyes. “This is my woman. Dare you to talk to her again, and I’ll punch the next volleyball in your face. She belongs to me.” He never breaks contact with your eyes. Totally intimidated, Kindaichi looks at you two. “You wouldn’t have a chance with her anyway. She only has eyes for me.” Then he grins and just wants to say something when a ball is thrown at his head from behind. Irritated, Iwaizumi approaches you both. “Oikawa, you idiot! Stop scaring Kindaichi!” he yells at him. “Owieee! That hurts! But I'm sorry Iwa-chan~” he now pouts and scratches his head. With his arms crossed, he still looks at Oikawa furiously. Then he looks at you and his features relax. “Oikawa... don’t make another mistake... all right? And (y/n)... If Oikawa ever gets on your nerves, you can come to me at any time, so I can wash his head.” He smiles. Lovingly Oikawa hugs you now and puts his forehead on yours. “Don’t worry, Iwa-chan, I will do everything I can to make (y/n) wake up every day with a smile and fall asleep with a smile. (y/n) My love... Let me make you happy.” he whispers his last words so softly that only you can hear them. You answer him with a loving kiss and you forget the big eyes that are now all on you.

Note: Since this was one of five routes, you can tell me if you want to read the other routes too. (Kuroo, Sugawara, Tsukishima, Asahi)

[sserpente]

A/N: May the Fourth be with you all! Request from anon. Enjoy, everyone! ♥

Words: 1778 Warnings: smut

‘Boyfriend’ was such a ridiculous term. ‘Boyfriend’ would indicate that Kylo Ren was yours, no? Ha, he most definitely was not. Kylo Ren was an emotionally unstable mess with powers beyond our comprehension. He was dangerous and he was not to be provoked—something you had not wanted to believe General Hux when he first told you.

Yet here you were now, meeting at night when only a few cleaning droids roamed the hallways to train together, talk and fuck. Naturally, the latter hadn’t initially been the plan. But his face… the first time he had shown himself to you without that intimidating mask and locked his brown eyes with yours, your heart had jumped like an electricity shock rippling right through it. You had seen his pain, his innermost thoughts and sorrows.

And you probably loved him. Certainly though, you would never admit that—not even under torture.

As of late, you had not seen him around often. Kylo was busy finding this oddly talented Rey girl he sought to recruit for his cause and he rarely took the time for you to meet him in his quarters; and you would be lying if you kept telling yourself that it didn’t bother you.

You knew about his Force bond with Rey. You knew that they seemed to understand each other in a way you never would. You were not Force sensitive. You never would be. You were a regular employee fixing things around the Finalizer. Nothing special. And you were bloody jealous.

Gnashing your teeth indignantly, you marched down one of the vast metal hallways on the way back to your own quarters—ten times smaller than Kylo’s but cosy nonetheless. You spent most of your time wandering around when you were upset. Tonight was one of those nights you’d probably end up doing so until the next morning.

The hallway was dimly lit. Emergency lights illuminated the metal ground to your feet, your shoes creating clinking sounds with every step. Gosh, how you hated this! He was on your mind, twenty-four-seven. You had, perhaps, made a grave mistake by falling in love with this man.

You cursed when you tripped over an opened floorboard revealing some complicated electricity and countless wires. Whoever had been working on this today had obviously been too dull to close it again overnight. You gasped when you fell, face-forward, your hands coming up on reflex to cushion your fall when suddenly, you stopped mid-air, only inches before the ground and, unceremoniously, were hoisted back on your feet.

Looking up both in confusion and realisation, you found Kylo standing right in front of you, a few feet away from where you had tripped, his expression unreadable. Almost. There was a hint of anger in his eyes—and for whatever reason, it had you fuming.

“Thank you, Commander… or should I say Supreme Leader now?”

Kylo frowned, stepping closer.

“I was in your quarters. You were not there.” He responded reproachfully. You clenched yours fists. Oh, was it your fault now you had not been available when he finally remembered your existence? You took a deep breath. Remember. He’s not your ‘boyfriend’, that’s not the correct term for whatever he was to you.

“What a shame. Did you leave a note? Good night, Supreme Leader.”

His fists clenched, a low growl escaping his lips. Kylo grabbed your arm the moment you attempted to strut past him, almost smashing you against the nearest wall. You gasped.

“I was looking for you.” He choked out through gritted teeth.

“Well, here I am.” Why now, why tonight? He was clearly frustrated. Perhaps he had come to you to talk. You were the only person around whom he could trust when it came to his dark thoughts and destructive emotions. Swallowing thickly, you shoved your bad conscience away along with him, resulting in Kylo pressing you against the metal with his whole body and leaving you no room to escape.

You flinched when rammed his fist into the wall right next to your head, his whole body shaking with anger and devastation all the while facing the ground. When he looked back up to you, his eyes were glowing yellow.

Anxiously, you took a deep breath. This was not good. This was not good at all. “What happened?”

“What happened?” He repeated mockingly. “It’s her. It’s always her.” Another blow followed his words, leaving a dent in the wall. A faint similarity to what his words did to your heart.

“Then what do you want from me?”

Kylo had no need to ask. He knew what you were thinking. Sleeping with him repeatedly had enabled him to do one thing—he could read your mind so effortlessly you felt no pain whenever he elected to invade it.

Right now, he was holding back. Whether it was hard-earned composure that kept him from hurting or fucking you though, you could not decide. Either way you knew he was not going to answer your question—not directly.

“How was your day?” He forced out instead. Snorting, you raised an eyebrow. Kylo sucked at small talk and casual conversations. You believed by now he actually cared when he asked for your well-being, yet you could tell it was irrelevant to him. Naturally. He had more important matters to attend to.

“Horrible. Hux is making my life here a living hell, as usual. You would know that if you bothered to check on me every now and then. You promised, remember?”

Kylo’s eyes were still a dangerous yellow when they locked with yours again. Noticing your lack of resistance, he placed his right hand on your hip, travelling upwards ever so slowly—over your waist, your stomach, your breasts—until he could wrap his gloved fingers around your neck to squeeze it lightly.

“He will change his ways soon if he wants me to keep him alive.”

You snorted. Kylo squeezed your neck a little harder, causing you to tense up.

“Hux is an arsehole. He demands respect for nothing. Respect is earned.” You spat furiously.

Kylo tilted his head slightly. “But you respect me. I can sense that.”

“Yes. You. Because you could choke me to death without even touching me.”

“That’s not the reason.” It was only the weakest hint of a smirk. Kylo rarely ever smiled genuinely, you were proud to be one of the few people coaxing a little happiness out of him—even when he was furious.

“I’ve told you to stay out of my head, repeatedly.”

“Well, you make it too easy.” Rolling your eyes, you attempted to wriggle away. You longed to be angry at him but the more aware you got of his obvious arousal pressing against your thighs, the more you felt your indignant emotions melting away. You should get away from him now.

“Let me go.”

But instead, Kylo’s grip around your neck tightened even more, almost cutting off your air supply.

“No,” he breathed. “I need you.”

You gasped when he lifted you up and forcefully pried your legs apart, knowing you could never refuse him. Your own excitement betrayed you. Your heart was beating like a steam hammer, your already wet cunt pulsing with need. Moaning, you allowed Kylo to impatiently fiddle around with your one-piece uniform, almost breaking the zipper to reveal your naked body to his yellow eyes.

Was it strange not to feel any fear? It probably was.

Carelessly, he peeled it off until it hung from your ankles until all there was left for him in the way was your knickers. Groaning, he tore them apart and dropped them to the ground.

Kylo was lost, trapped in a headspace you could not quite grasp. Over and over, he mumbled your name as he freed his throbbing cock from under his black armour, aligning it with your soaking entrance.

You dug your fingernails into his shoulders when sheathed himself inside you, the impact of his hard length impaling you knocking all air from your lungs. His hand was still wrapped tightly around your neck. It was an illusion, gave him power over you, to control you. He always did it. He controlled your thoughts, your dreams, your arousal, even your orgasms. Which of all those was it going to be tonight?

You had missed him. Oh, you had missed him so much. Being near him, taking in his scent, resting your forehead against his, kissing him. Your eyes fell shut when he picked up his pace and rutted into you like a possessed animal, hunting his own pleasure like a starving wolf in heat. He knew exactly how to thrust into you to make you squirm and scream, tonight was no different. And right now, you did not care if somebody could hear you. If somebody would catch you fucking the Supreme Leader in the hallway.

“Kylo…”

“You belong… to me…” He growled in response, removing his hand from your neck to bury his face in your hair, inhaling your scent. Sharp pain rippled through you when he bit down on the sensitive skin, suckling violently to leave a love bite that would remind you of his words. This was all about him. Kylo sped up even more, shuddering and breathing heavily when he neared his climax.

He was fucking you so relentlessly you feared he would lose his mind. With but a few more, agitated thrusts, he tossed himself over the edge, burying himself as deep inside you as he possibly could as he came, his hard member coating your tight walls with his warm cum, throbbing and pulsing inside you.

Carnal satisfaction spread in your entire body even though you had not experienced the peak of pleasure yourself. Kylo stilled, his softening length still inside of you, and rested his forehead against yours.

Was this what he had wanted? Why he had gone out of his way in the middle of the night to visit you in your quarters? A quick fuck to get rid of all his built-up frustration? You swallowed, ignoring the painful stings in your chest. And you were not going to say no, of course, not as long as you got to be close to him. You belong to me… it sounded incredibly erotic, like a promise. But you wanted it to be more than just a naughty and filthy threat.

“Let me go now?” You whispered with defeat in your voice.

“No. I want you in my quarters tonight.” Surprised, you looked up and met his eyes—his irises finally having returned to their natural colour. “And that’s where I want you to stay with me from now on.”

A/N: If you liked this story, I would be flattered if you supported me on KoFi! ko-fi.com/sserpente

[turning-dreams-into-chaos]

Upcoming Requests

As I promised, I’m popping on to post a list of all my requests I’m doing. I know I have asks and messages, but I’m not going to go through them right now, but I appreciate all your support everyone. I’m not tagging people who requested until it’s posted because most of these are anons. Please like and reblog this, just so others are aware of what I’m doing, and comment which pieces you’re looking forward to the most! It’s a LONG list, so I’m adding a read more option. I’m not posting these in any order, that’s just how they’re listed. 

Also check out my writing challenge in my bio!

Requests: 

Bellamy Blake: 

Can you do a Bellamy x reader? which takes place in season 3 with the chips that take away their pain. The reader is going through something and wants to take it but Bellamy stops them? Love your writing and don’t care about the haters! 

Hi! It’s me again. I’ve got this BellamyxReader idea where the reader has become more and more reckless, and when she kills someone she doesn’t even flinch. Everyone’s worried, especially Bellamy. When they get to restrain chipped-Raven and they’re taking shifts to check on her. While it’s the reader’s turn, Raven says something that makes her snap. I have 2 ideas for the end: either the readers goes out and points a gun to her head or she points it to Raven. Either way, Bellamy stops her. (I was thinking that maybe no one knows about it and that the reader’s been keeping it under control with the meds Kane managed to give her before she was sent to earth with the 100 (maybe she could be Kane’s daughter).Then, when Jaha started chipping everyone, ALIE ordered someone to steal her meds and she didn’t really want to tell anyone about the missing meds. She started to go through the maniac phase of it, and people around her (Bellamy, Clarke) started to notice that something was off Then, coming back to my original request lol, Raven told her that they stole their meds to mess with her and you can connect it with the rest of my other request)

Hi there, I was wondering if i could request an angsty/fluffy S5 Bellamy fic based on the song “Hesitate” by the Jonas Brothers? Thank you ☺❤

Is it possible to get a bellamy one-shot or something based on the song “I hate you, I love you” by gnash and olivia o’brien? I’m not really picky (at all) by what the plot is, but I feel like it’s a good song to write a fic about, thanks girlie 💜 ~ Posted!

Okay soooo I have this on my mind for aawhile!Are you able to do a Bellamy Blake x plus size (if you want) reader imagine based on the song “Don’t wanna fall in love” by KYLE… if you want though!

Hi! I have a request What about a Bellamy x Reader based on the song Happy Pills by Weathers?

Would you be willing to do a Bell x Reader based on the song ALARM by Anne-Marie? Maybe something in season 1, but you can decide a different season if it’s easier☺

Your song fics are so goooddddd! Can you PLEASE do one based on If the World was Ending? Its by JP Saxe and Julia Michaels. Can it be a lot of angst and maybe a cute ending if it works? Thank you!!!!!

Hi!! I love your work! I was wondering if you could write a Bellamy x reader based on the song Hot Girl Bummer by blackbear! Thank you ❤️ have a nice day!

Could you maybe do something Season 1 Bellamy where he's tough and lets everybody "do whatever the hell they want" but he's bossier to you and you're a rebellious spirit but he's actually being hard on you because he really really likes you and he doesn't want anything to happen to you (he's bossy in a roundabout way so he makes sure you get dinner and are safe and stuff) and maybe something happens and she gets hurt cause she's mad at him and he admits his feelings for her? Sassy and sweet?

Sirius Black: 

hello! can i request an imagine in which reader is Lucius’ little sister, so she has a bad reputation among the marauders, but on their last year, her and Sirius are supposed to work on a project together so they start spending more time together and he realises that she’s not like her family at all, so they start developing feelings for each other? maybe they even kiss in the end? hehe. thanks!

Hey sweets! I was wondering if I could request a oneshot with young!Sirius please? Something with a lot of mutual pining? Also if the reader could be in Ravenclaw that would be really nice :) Thanks anyways 💓

can i request an extremely fluffy (floof upon floof) and wholesome fic with sirius? :’) thank you

Could you please write a Sirius x reader where the reader is a Gryffindor but is very quiet and cold and Sirius tries to get closer to her?

Hey! I saw that your requests for the marauders were open. I would like to request a Sirius oneshot where he has a crush on reader who is super sassy and will not give him time of the day. He is a bit sad and so maybe James takes it upon himself to get them together? Maybe as a bonus they help July get together too? Thankyou 😍

Hey! How are you? Thanks to Seira I discovered you were writing for the marauders! So I was thinking could you right something on the marauders (Sirius x reader) were it’s full moon and they’re in the muggle world. Moony is stuck in the middle of a village, there is a lot of muggle around him so the reader (who is an animagus too since she’s a marauder) save him but finish hurt by a villager so Sirius protect her and carry her away? I hope it’s understandable and sorry if my English is bad :) 

Barry Allen: 

Hiii! One last request before you close them! Maybe a Barry Allen x reader where the reader has got “dark” powers? I picture her like Billie Eilish in her music video “Bury a Friend”. I don’t know if I explained it clearly 😂

James Potter: 

I really love your works on Harry Potter (basically marauders) Can I request 14, 16, 18, 23, 28 for James Potter. Can reader be Remus' twin sister, a Gryffindor? I I would be really happy to read it. Also if possible can you make a happy ending for it? I trust you can write a perfect fic! Thank you:) (are you still open to this kind of requests?)~ Posted! 

could u maybe work on a lil james potter fic (cus ur reqs for him are open)? one where he's trying so hard to get a girl in the quidditch team (but she's bolder than he is so she tells him she'll only join if he goes on a date w her) i thought it'd be pretty cool... thank u 

I don't know if you are taking one shot requests but if you are, I would like to request a James Potter x reader (different houses, not specified) where they enter a Hogwarts Couples Baking Challenge and they're just having fun. Thanks!

Remus Lupin: 

Hi!!! Could I get a gender neutral!reader x Remus?? Something with mutual pining maybe?? Also I would love if the reader is in hufflepuff!! Thank you!!!

Hey! Can I request a oneshot with Remus where he likes reader who is Lily's best friend and us smarter than her too and is also a prefect? He asks for her help to study and accidentally confesses his feelings at the same time/or confesses during one of their prefect rounds? Thankyou!

can i request some angst for younger remus where it's a couple days after the full moon and he looks for the reader so they can cuddle (they're already dating) and he finds them kissing another guy, and he asks reader why and the readers like "i dont want you anymore, i love this guy, blah blah blah" and he's heart broken but later somehow reader's friend finds out the guy gave them a love potion and fixes it, and reader has to try to explain to Remus that it's what happened but he doesn't (1/2) believe her, and it's all angsty because he's mad at her but in the end he understands or something like that, and i am SO sorry that this is so long, and i love love love your writing~ Posted!

John Murphy: 

 I think 18 by 1D would be such a cute song for Murphy! I saw your requests were open for him (THANK GOD because your writing is incredible!) and I was hoping you wouldn’t mind? Thanks love!

John Murphy with a reader that got her arm or leg or both taken on earth and it’s about her recovering and John helping her. If you can’t do John then sorry for bothering!!

Undecided: 

I wasn't going to ask this because I already requested something (believe me when I say I read the moment I knew lots of times already), but just trying it won't hurt me, right? (right? 😭) I need something based on lover of mine by 5sos it can be bellamy, sirius, james, remus or bucky, whoever you think would fit better. thank you for putting up with my shit 🤧 love you tons - 🍑 (Undecided because I haven’t figured out who to write for yet, I think it might be Bucky)

So this is hella randombut can u do a eli goree x reader ship. Eli played wells on the 100 and mad dog on riverdale btw. Anyway can it be were your also famous actor and played in the 100 and riverdale ect and u guys are playing a game on the jimy falon show and your picking random QUITIONS from a dec of cards abd most of them are things having to fo with ur friend ship (u guys are like bestfriends and everybody ships u2) reader picks random card that says I asked you out would you say yes? (Undecided because my requests aren’t open for Eli and I’ve never written for an actor before, but I kinda wanna write this despite my requests not for him. So idk yet. Question: If I do write this, do you Eli to say yes? and do you want them together? No promises on writing it, but send me an ask and let me know please.)