#Now he just needs to bring him to the containment facility | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

katsukikitten · 1 year ago

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You've been writing to inmates in prison for almost two years now and have helped many feel more at ease with their current situations and possible futures. So it should come to no surprise when the warden of the most notorious prison seeks out your help with a difficult inmate they can hardly contain. The task proves difficult after you receive your first letter back from Bakugou Katsuki. More infamously known as Ground Zero, and you're not so sure you can help a man this far gone.

wc 6.8k warnings: dunno but he's mean and a villain so read at your own risk. MDNI 18+ content

Congratulations!

You've been selected for a special project due to your credentials with previous inmates. Letters exchanged between you and other inmates have had a positive effect on their rehabilitation which is one step closer to getting them assimilated back to the normalcy of society.

We ask that you help us by reaching out to inmate B-001174 Bakugou, Katsuki. He has not had mail correspondence nor a visitor due to his self isolation since his incarceration. We are hoping that a letter from the most well received correspondent begins to pave the way for a brighter future for B-001174. Please see the below instructions on what topics to avoid for inmate B-001174

Family members of any relation to inmate

Previous crimes by inmate or inmate's affiliates.

Current crimes by inmate's affiliates or any such nature of crime

Current events of any kind including natural disasters, diseases, political elections or anything of relation.

Current hero rankings, change of status or death of any hero since incarceration December 18th 2XXX

Any mention of hero(es) who captured inmate listed as follows : Aizawa, Shouta - Eraserhead, Todoroki, Enji - Endeavor, Toshinori, Yagi - Allmight, Usagiyama, Rumi - Mirko

Current known affiliates are listed as follows : Kirishima, Eijirou, Midoriya, Izuku, Shigaraki, Tomura and Todoroki, Touya.

We appreciate your efforts in brightening the dull lives of inmates and hope you pick up your pen and do what you do best, change lives for the better! Please see the following attachments for instructions on how to address the letter and seal inside the pre-paid postage envelope before dropping it off at any post office.

Remember each letter will be opened and read for any sort of criminal activity before being passed along to the inmate.

Sincerely,

Warden of Tartarus Maximum Prison Facility

You flip the letter over and skim the instructions, the same as they always are expect this time there is an extra line to add, maximum security level ten, as if you had to notate some sort of alert to the mailroom for an extra thorough check of this particular piece of mail. You bite the inside of your lip, toeing off your kitten heels before padding over to your computer with letter in tow.

The request comes as a surprise, mostly because they listed a specific inmate instead of your usual list of inmates who wished to receive mail but had ties cut from their own families or needed some semblance of someone on the outside to speak with. Never asking you to address some sort of conversation with someone who sounded like they didn't want to have one at all.

Snarling your lip when you read the affiliates that you needed to avoid as if their government names gave you any idea of who they were, some of them anyway.

Two with whom you were already exchanging letters with weekly.

Your usual routine to wind down from work is lost to your undying hunger of who this person was. Although you had to admit Bakugou sounded eerily familiar.

A quick search brings up his villain name, Ground Zero, captured during a raid of some sort and he alone needed several heroes for his capture. His quirk was dangerous, explosions detonated by sparks along his forearms and palms from his sweat that contained nitroglycerin and it seemed as if his mental health was just as stable as the fuel to his quirk.

Looking at him wrong set him off and he was powerful enough to level buildings from just a few juls of output from his intense explosions. Still curiosity killed the cat and you delved deeper.

Wondering how Izuku, aka Deku, who was quirkless and Eijirou, aka Blood Riot who could harden his skin, which you knew from their letters, got caught up with a living, breathing nuke.

Thankfully most of the documentation and footage involving Katsuki's arrest was released to the public with redactions and edits of course but what you needed was the raw data.

Finding unofficially released footage from Mirko's body cam, the only surviving body cam between the pursuing heroes. It starts right in the midst of the action, sirens wailing and people screaming in the background as the scene unfolds. Ground Zero and Mirko exchange blows evenly while Endevor tries to ambush him from behind. The hulking blonde smirks, as if he had no blind spot, swinging his large arm backward hitting Endeavor right in the mouth, hard enough it sends him flying. Katsuki's bromine eyes flicker to what must be vantage points off camera as if searching for something.

"Got that pesky ass four eyes on me huh? I'm hurt ya don't wanna play with me properly, hops." He dodges a kick to the chest, sliding back and it's obvious his prowess as a fighter is unmatched, even with his quirk silenced.

"Shut the fuck up. Ya talk too much." Shifting her weight to fein a kick that he catches, pinning her thick leg between his sturdy ribs and strong arm as he wears the nastiest smile. One that Mirko wipes off quickly with a swift kick from her free foot straight to his handsome face. Turning his cheek and blood arcs from his mouth, still he does not stagger nor falter.

He even still has her leg pinned as she stands awkwardly, back arched to him and her bunny tail twitches. The viewer can only see the ground and her free leg but the mic still very much catches what he says next and you're sure the smile he was wearing earlier comes back tenfold.

"Careful hops, ya get any rougher with me and I'll cum."

His laugh echoes shortly after and the sound should not cause your stomach to flip the way it does before the footage abruptly ends.

Taking the time to scroll through a few more pictures and articles, trying to find where it all went wrong when really none of that was your business, still it killed you to know.

And when you fail to find anything, fail to find that butterfly effect that puts his whole life askew, it does little to quell the uneasy feeling that gnaws at the pit of your stomach. If anything it fuels it yet still you rummage your desk for stationary and a pen.

Sealing away the envelope once you were done and setting it by your purse to grab in the morning when you think you'll be braver.

Or maybe less brave as you hesitate by the mail drop off box, your train fast approaching the outside terminal before you shove it into the slot quickly.

Too late to take it back now.

Besides what were the odds he'd even send one back?

"B-001174, got mail." The guard grunts as he slips the already open letter under the cell door, finishing his rounds before the doors would open and the inmates could roam about the pod as they saw fit.

Katsuki snarls, he didn't get mail, letters or pictures or even the cult following he once had he'd scared 'em all off. Tired of all the stupid bullshit they spewed at him, the ideals they placed on him or the words they shoved into his mouth. Worst yet were how they justified their actions, their own wrong doings in the name of Ground Zero, too pussy to even own up to their own actions. Katsuki hated that as much as he hated liars.

Besides he didn't ask for all that shit, didn't care. He just wanted to watch the world burn.

Wanted to set it on fire and Katsuki's philosophy was that anything was kindling.

That everything is kindling.

And he thinks he should just ignite the smallest spark despite the quirk "silencing" cuffs and let the letter be devoured by the heat of his palms.

But the return address catches his eye, the name does. It's familiar in a way he can't quite place yet. Pulling the paper out of the envelope in the meantime. The first thing he notices is the faint almost perfumey smell of coconut from the paper, not from spraying the stationary but as if it were lotion rubbing across the parchment as you wrote in long looping letters, for a moment he finds the smell pleasant. His poisonous bromine eyes slide over the letter with ease.

Dear Bakugou,

I heard you don't get letters very often, if any, so I hope this one finds you well. The weather is warming up quickly, the cicadas are starting to scream even though it's barely June, we'll all be sweltering come August. Summer is my favorite season, do you have a favorite? Work slows down around this time and they usually grant us extra leave so we can enjoy the weather, which is quite nice. I hope you're getting to enjoy the sun as well.

I know cooking is one of your favorite things, I can see why. It can be relaxing or make you feel good to nourish someone else. What other hobbies do you have aside from cooking? Any favorite books or authors? Maybe I can send your favorite one in! Just let me know.

Do you have everything you need? Do you need any money for commissary? Don't hesitate to ask if you need anything at all, I'm only a letter away.

Hope to hear from you and maybe soon I can call you Katsuki.

Much Love

He snorts as he reads the last line and it finally dawns on him from where he knows your name. Lifting himself out of his prison cot with ease, the cheap thing groaning from his bulk as he exits his cell. Heading towards the neighboring cell that holds Deku and Riot, shoving his way into the too cramped space for the bulking men.

"Ka-kaachan!" Izuku chirps, surprised to see the hot headed blonde out of his cell and especially surprised to see Bakugou in his own. Lingering by Izuku's half with a quirked brow, his eyes roaming until they found the hidden stack of papers.

"Gonna grab breakfast with us?" Kirishima asks as he watches large hands snatch at the pile. Instantly Izuku stands, eyes darkening as he steps towards Katsuki.

"Put those down, Kaachan." It's that fake polite smile Izuku wears before a fight, the kind that never reaches his eyes and Bakugou doesn't heed the warning, "Please."

It's clipped and now Kirishima thinks to rise, doesn't want either of them to do solitary or to deal with the month long bickering if they do get into a physical fight.

Katsuki looks over the letters, reading them quickly and appreciating that Izuku is meticulous enough to keep them in chronological order, each one signed off the same way. Much love.

Such bullshit.

Izuku shoves Bakugou when he still scowls down at the papers that also smell like coconut. Katsuki drops the letters unceremoniously and Izuku scrambles to keep them from hitting the concrete floor. Bakugou already on Kirishima's side who watches with a confused glare.

"What are you-" But Kirishima doesn't get to say much else as Katsuki lifts the thin mattress from the metal frame to find the hidden letters. Tucked away safely as if the battle worn villain took comfort in the false words in shiny black ink.

Same return address, same name, same bull shit sign off.

"Katsuki!" Kirishima shoves him and the blonde hardly moves, Eijirou's skin half hardening out of habit before he tries to shove again. Katsuki hits his forearm harshly, a soft pop in warning although neither could do too much with the amount of sedation and silencing that came from the collar from around their thick throats. Izuku sans silencing cuffs, has no worries about a part of him being dulled. He was built like an ox with the metabolism of a pubescent teen despite being in his late twenties so sedatives or mood stabilizers hardly have any effect.

Bakugou tosses the letters onto Kirishima's scratchy blanket before he scoffs.

"Tsk, believe that bullshit?" He's rolling his eyes as he leaves the cell with nothing but the rustle of paper as they try to rehide what they act like is their dirty little secret.

God weak hearted fools were so fucking annoying.

Post through the prison system could take some time, especially when it came to newer exchanges. It could be anywhere between two weeks to two months before you saw a reply from Katsuki. If you got one at all.

But the thought of his phantom reply slips to the back of your head what with your current workload and the other correspondents so when you see a sealed envelope the prison's return address you think nothing of it.

Not until you open it to see an open envelope with your address but instead of your name is spelled out Fake Bitch.

Blinking furiously you pull out the letter, unfolding it quickly to let your eyes scan over the page, each word burning into your retinas.

Piece of shit,

Such a pathetic fuckin slut, writing any and every desperate man behind bars you think is hot, hopin you'll get a conjugal visit. Already fucked everyone at surface level ya gotta try prison dick?

Or is it worst than that? Mommy and daddy didn't love ya enough? Didn't give ya enough attention so you look for it in anyone that'll give ya the time of day? Prey on those with no one to talk to knowing you'd get a reply out of desperation.

Lickin knives all ya know sweetheart? Pretty fuckin scummy if ya ask me.

Fuck off and die,

Bakugou Katsuki

Now you've received your fair share of mean and asshole letters but this? This was different.

This felt personal.

It was rule number one you'd given yourself when you were asked to start penning letters while in a shitty place yourself.

And yet here you were breaking it for some asshat who thought the cityscape was his to destroy.

Heart ringing in your ears as you try to calm yourself, counting your breaths until you finally could see straight. Penning up something simple yet effective telling yourself that even if he didn't reply it didn't matter.

You drop it into the mail the next day, two weeks later the same guard is slipping another opened letter under Bakugou's cell door. A snarl to his lip, he didn't expect you to reply and if he was being honest he may have forgotten about you, still the envelope was addressed to his inmate number and no longer is his name written in your cute script.

While you may think you know everything there is to know about life and me, I'd like to point out your position over mine.

Last I checked I'm not miles and miles in the ground, under heavy security, among other things a civilian wouldn't be privy to. However I will put it into lame man's terms as it seems your cognitive abilities have declined.

I'm not the one behind bars, asshole.

Much Hate

Bakugou clicks his tongue, he was used to the insult, wore it proudly most days but he knew his first letter would go one of two ways.

One, you'd cry when you read it and never replied to him again, which was his hope or two there was a very slim chance he'd get under your skin enough you'd feel the innate need to respond and defend yourself.

Bakugou does what he does best and burrows further under your pretty skin twirling the pen he finds in the library with ease as he takes to writing out a delicious reply.

Mail from Tartarus normally came on Wednesday or Thursday as if someone at the facility always forgot to send it out at the beginning of the week. So it became a part of your routine to check your PO Box you set up in a prefecture over in order to preserve your safety should something ever go awry with any of your pen pals or to receive online purchases. Mail day used to be a day you looked forward to, something to help you get through the remainder of your work week but today it was a day you dreaded.

The excitement from seeing the others' responses in the mail is overshadowed by one particular envelope that slips out of the Manila folder that all of the letters to the same correspondent were sent in to save postage.

You should be reading Touya's letter or hell anyone else's for that matter, yet here you stood, going for that obnoxious scrawl as he still refused to spell out your name and instead gave you some horrible insult.

Pathetic Slut

If lying to yourself by writing half ass disingenuine letters to prisoners out of pity makes ya feel like yer changing the world then by all fucking means write away sweetheart.

Just don't be surprised when you get an asshole response from an asshole behind bars.

Cause we both know that's what you think of all of us don'tchya?

Die,

Bakugou Katsuki

It shouldn't bother you, it shouldn't burrow so deep into your skin that his inky words scratch at your bones. Like his fingers could dig around in the marrow like maggots yet still it makes your cheeks heat. Makes your eyes burn from frustration and lack of blinking as your palms sweat.

Soles of your feet burning as you walk further into your apartment to rummage through the drawers of your desk. Uncaring how things topple over as you furiously grab for a permanent marker, pens and books scattering over the hardwood floors.

Heart pounding as it resounds through your body like metal striking a bell. Each beat faster, harder than the last until you think your vision starts to ehb at the edges from how much hatred burns away at any of the kindness you built up over the last decade.

Snapping the marker in half by the time you're done writing your final letter to the asshole.

FUCK

YOU

You don't read it, don't care if it makes it past screening and he never sees it at all. Shoving it into one of your personal envelopes on your desk slapping on a floral postage stamp before stomping down to the express box that sat just outside of your apartment complex.

It takes a full week for you to calm down, another week to stop thinking about it daily, and one more week to even reply to the letters you got almost a month ago.

An email comes in from the post office, alerting you to something being placed in your box. You hope it's the new sun dress you bought as retail therapy after a long week and an even bigger bottle of booze that you'd drained. Spending quite a pretty penny on something you didn't even really have an occasion to wear it to.

More like a nice date, the type of dress you could dress up or down depending on what sorts of accessories you paired with it.

Taking the train three stops past your own to head into the post office. Turning the key to your decent sized box finding within the metal your promised package.

And on top of that a familiar manila folder with the return address to Tartarus.

You grit your teeth, holding onto the mail harder than you should as you take those three long stops back home. Swallowing thickly as you climb your steps, the folder and plastic bag package punctured from your sharp nails as you quickly press in your seven digit key code to get into your apartment and out of the sweltering mid August air.

When your door shuts it closed off the sound of the screaming cicadas and the few crickets that lie in the green space beside your apartment as you try to force yourself to follow your nightly routine.

Remove shoes, take off makeup, eat, shower, sleep.

But that damn folder was burning a hole into your fingers as you go to your desk, rocking your chair side to side before you just rip it open like you'd rip off a bandaid.

This time the letter addresses you in a new way.

Sweetheart,

I dare you to come say that shit to my face. You fuckin better show up Saturday other wise I'll let your precious Izu and Eiji know just how much of a fake bitch ya really are. Imagine what it would do to them? Break their hearts I'm sure.

Ya'd hate to mess with their progress wouldn't ya?

Don't forget to wear something cute, it'd be nice to see some fat tits in my face at the very least. If a shitty woman like you even owns anything relatively sexy.

Fuck off

Bakugou Katsuki

You see red, breathing deeply as you re-read the letter again, who the fuck was this asshole? Black mailing you into visiting him so it wouldn't hurt your other correspondents because Bakugou was so fucking selfish.

So black out angry you don't seem to wake up, not when you put yourself in that sleek summer sun dress that went to your mid thigh, not when you stare at your angry scowl as you apply light make up, and especially not on the hour drive and then two hour ferry ride to Tartarus. Especially not during the twenty minute descent in a cramped elevator box with a guard in front and behind you with AKs clipped to their chests, the sweltering heat seeping down this low in the ground due to body heat and poor ventilation of the prison.

Not until the buzzer of the barred door in front of you screams its demands, that the handle was "live" and could be opened by the guard standing in the cage between the hallway that led back to freedom and the other where you could already see toxic bromine burning into your skin.

This was a bad idea. This was a really fucking bad idea.

You swallow thickly, it was too late to turn back now wasn't it? The door had already swung shut as the guard came closer to you for one final inspection.

"Dress is kinda short." Katsuki can overhear the guard mumble to you, can see how the guard's fingers twitch and for some reason his own do too. He watches how the guard lingers, how the man's hand press against your body and bunches up your dress as he pats you down a little too roughly. How you bite your lip when the man squeezes your ribs and under the weight of your breasts a little too roughly.

Katsuki is starting to see red, sweat begins to collect on his brow. He hasn't even fully seen you at least not without an obstructed view but already he can tell he likes what he sees.

Likes how the dress clings to parts of you you'd favor, the parts you want to really highlight. How the hem flusters higher with each step of your strappy flat shoes.

Loves the scowl that pinches up your cute face when the door buzzes to allow you into the room with him and another six guards. Likes how you straighten your spine as if you've gotten fresh resolve when you come in.

Looking at him like he was trash and he smirks, like how you don't recoil from him despite how he looks now.

Plexiglass spit guard with metal framing afixed to his face to keep more than his salvia to himself, more so to keep his gnashing teeth away from people's skin. How his throat is encircled with a thick black collar with a red light set far past stun and closer to kill that would send an electric pulse if he misbehaved but only if they could reach their remote fast enough.

How the silver cuffs around his thick wrists chain him to the table top, thick forearms exposed from him rolling up his bright orange suit that was harsh on the eyes thanks to the flickering fluorescent lighting overhead. Soft ash blonde hair messy at the top with a self given undercut beneath, iris so bloody red it was as if he was born straight from the calf of Ares himself.

"Hey Sweetheart." He purrs and his voice is pure sin.

Pure fucking sin.

Sending a jolt straight to your clit as his pretty lips curl up into a deadly smirk, showing his sharp canines.

Bakugou can't contain the feeling of triumph that dances in his veins, purposely egging you on in his letter with the closest Saturday knowing you'd be allowed to come on such short notice. See, most visitors needed to have thorough background checks and intensive mental testing before coming to meet anyone in maximum security five hundred meters below sea level.

But the conniving blonde knew you were special.

Knew the warden of Tartarus favored you and would allow you to skip these precautions, especially after what that dumbass thinks you've done. In less than a month of writing to him, that damn Deku finally added Inko-san back to his visiting list, actually came to the visit and cupped her hands. Murmuring on and on that her baby boy with the wavy emerald curls was okay. Inko cried and returned every month since.

No different for Kirishima either, adding Fat Gum, who was like a father figure to him during their shared time at UA, to his visitor list. Surprisingly Taishiro came, still comes, him and Inko car pool together.

Not even a few heartbeats pass between the two of you before you feel your tongue slicing up the sensitive skin of the roof of your mouth. Of the hard bone of your teeth.

"Fuck. You." The words drip with sticky poison that even one of the guards behind him flinches but not Bakugou.

No never Bakugou Katsuki, the Ground Zero himself who leveled a city for the fucking fun of it

He smiles, both sides of his mouth curling up and it should be disturbing how much he obviously gets off on your frustration, on your hate. But it isn't, it's almost mesmerizing how he looks at you. Like you're something to triumph and conquer, something he wants to keep for himself.

With that you turn to leave, skirt fluttering from the movement and Katsuki can see the tattoo on your upper thigh, the ink making his mouth salivate as he wonders if he can find any more you've got hidden on that fine body.

He lunges despite the rattling chains that keep him close to the table, still he has enough leeway to grab onto your arm in one giant hand. Foolishly you try to pull free.

"Oh come on sweetheart. I've got a whole hour of play time for this. Yer not leaving, sit down."

His grip on you is tight, his hand big enough to engulf half of your forearm and it gets tighter still. Hot palm making your bones creak from the pressure as he smiles up at you cruelly. All you can do is glare down at him, bore all of your hate where the two of you are connected, his skin feels electric against yours.

"Ya know, I could probably still blow your arm off." He doesn't bother to say it quietly, chuckles when you look at the quirk silencing cuffs and collar he dons, "They ain't shit against strong quirks."

Your eyes flash, anger spiking your blood and stupidly you strike. Hand stinging as badly as the tears that come to your eyes and threaten to fall past your lash line. Clawed fingers met with the metal framing of the glass spit guard mask that covers his mouth. Still one of your claws cuts his cheeks and he howls with laughter.

"Like I said-" He yanks you down harshly, playful tone from his voice gone as your ribs smack into the edge of the metal table, puffs of hot breath fogging the glass of his spit guard, "Sit."

The awkward angle forces your knees to bend, settling on to the cold metal stool while his warm fingers leave blossoms of black and blue on the skin. As if returning the favor for the cut.

"I can feel your heart pounding princess,yer pussy throbin this hard too?" He licks his lips, laughs when you lean away from him in disgust, "Ya like it. All sluts play hard to get at first."

Your eyes flicker to the guards behind him, all six pretend not to notice, panic shoots through your veins and the realization of just how bad of a fucking idea this was settles over you harshly. Like ice water flowing from the nape of your neck.

He follows your gaze, even cranes his head like he didn't know who was behind him and exactly where they stood.

"Oh them? They ain't gonna do shit. They're too scared of me. Blew a guy's head off last week." He smiles and one of the guards suddenly finds the floor interesting, "Do ya know how drugged up I am right now baby? How much force these cuffs have to use to bring my quirk down to half power?"

Choosing not to respond you let your eyes fall back on his handsome face watching it snarl as you ignore him.

Oh he'd make you see him.

"What cat got yer tongue now ya scared cause I'm so strong? Invincible?" Your eyes narrow as he speaks the arrogance of this man is far beyond your comprehension.

"You bleed like every other man." He loves the way you speak, how you wield that sharp tongue. How he wants it pressed and slashing over his own as he's two fingers deep into your tight cunt, moaning into his mouth.

He brings the thick digits of his free hand parting gift you bestowed upon him. The long thin slash as rough pads bring smeared blood into view so he can lick away the dark red beads.

"Bloody men are usually the most dangerous, you never know if it's his or that of another's." He lets his hot thumb roll over the cut, cauterizing the small wound hoping it scars.

Eyes widening as he blatantly uses his quirk as if there weren't armed guards behind him. You're watching his eyes closely as he does and finally you realize what he said is true. There is a dullness to them that was lacking in the raw footage you saw all those months ago.

Then his eyes were vibrant, sharp and slicing, much more intense then the hazy glare he gives you now. It didn't make him any less of an apex predator.

Still watching you, recording your small movements and committing your soft skin to his memory as he studies you.

"Got a quirk?" He grunts out after a moment, after he collects whatever information he was looking for, "I wanna guess first. Manipulation?"

He smirks at his own joke and you roll your eyes, trying to ignore how his thumb swipes at the underside of your forearm idly. How the motion twists your stomach violently with dizzying emotions.

Rolling your eyes before you scoff an answer, "No. Besides you expect me to manipulate through what? Ink?"

"Ya never know. Went to school with some asshole whose quirk was comic book sound effects." He leans back never letting go but now his hand is around your wrist. His fingers twitch when he looks at yours, fights the urge to roughly lace them with his own.

"Well I don't. Manipulate I mean." You adjust in your seat, feeling uncomfortable under his scrutiny, "And I won't disclose whether I have a quirk or not."

"Haaah? Worried I'll like it?" When you don't answer he adds, "Is it compatible with mine?"

Slowly blinking at him trying not to read into what you think he means. He groans at your silence, the higher dosage of his morning meds finally catching up making him a little lethargic. Taking his edge off when all he wants to do is rise over the crashing wave of the pending high he can barely keep at bay and whisk you out of the depths of hell the two of you currently sit in.

"So then what? You just used regular words to manipulate them?" He fights back a yawn.

"Who?" Your ribs still ache from his actions earlier, it doesn't warn you like it should.

"Don't play fuckin stupid, Sweetheart." He's lurching into your space again, hand moving back over your bruise. It makes your stomach clench when it shouldn't, especially not as the chains rattle against the metal table top, serving as a heavy reminder of the setting of this conversation.

Still his breath comes in quick puffs as it fogs up the glass again, "Shitty hair. Deku."

Your brows furrow for a moment, another groan from him.

"For fucks sake." Light squeeze of your arm as he spits their names, "Fuckin nerdy ass Izuku. Eijirou."

"I can't talk about them." Looking away from his darkened eyes that flash with a fury of emotion.

"Who's stoppin ya? Them?" He tilts his head towards the guards, "I told ya-"

"B-001174, you have five minutes left for visitation." A voice crackled over an old speaker in the visitation cell, "Please remove your hands from the guest or we will apply force."

The small light on his collar flashes red and he just smirks, looking up, well above your head. Staring directly at the warden like he knows exactly where he stood behind the two way mirror.

"Yea? You'll apply force? Go ahead. Nothin but a little shock t' me but t' her? She'll die warden." There is no mirth in his smirk, lips twitching as his eyes are shrouded in dark warning, "And we wouldn't want that would we?"

The way he speaks sends a chill down your spine, the haze of whatever sedative they had him on is now gone and you're left sitting across from those vibrant radioactive eyes. Burning through the mirror to sear the warden's skin in a threat, a promise.

A buzz rings out as the seventh guard comes in, he scrunches his nose and it makes his oddly shaped mustache twitch.

"Miss." He grunts holding out his hand for you to take too close in your personal space for your liking. Slapping it out of your face before following your right arm down to where Katsuki held fast. Peeling off his thick digits with your finely manicured claws.

He hisses at the loss of contact, glaring at the guard when his hands hover close and the older man is smart enough not to antagonize a literal monster. Katsuki stands suddenly, a scream comes from the bolts securing metal to metal as he rips the table out of the ground, unable to break the chains for now.

Everyone but Bakugou in the room freezes, guns cocked and aimed at the bulking villain who rose to his full height, sticking his prison issued white shoe onto the seat he just sat on to push down roughly. Thick thigh muscles straining against the fabric of the bright orange pants. A smile to his face when the chains finally snap and he can move his hands more freely before ripping off the plexiglass spit guard letting it clink on to the ground. His large hands run through his hair as if to fix it.

"I'm entitled to a proper fuckin good bye." He hisses at everyone in the room, they keep their guns aimed at him but make no move to pull any trigger.

Katsuki stalks closer, a wall of muscle, broad chest and shoulders, slim waist that leads down to powerful legs and you try not to let your breath catch in your throat.

Try not to let the big bad wolf win by letting him know just how scared you were. Over how impressive it was that he snapped reinforced titanium chains so easily.

He's well within your arms reach now, so close heat radiates from his chest.

"I'll see ya soon, Sweetheart." He bids you a final goodbye, waving his fingers that pop with burning caramel explosions. You're not sure why it sets you off, maybe it was the way he wore that stupid smirk on his face, maybe it was the way he demonstrated his power or his dominance in an attempt to intimidate you one last time.

Maybe it's the way he was arrogant enough to think you'd waste six hours round trip on his ass ever again.

Either way it makes your temper flair, burrows deep into your subdermis to scarpe at your bones one final time before you unknowingly seal your own fate. Not knowing how his body would react to your parting words.

"There won't be a next time. I came here for one thing and that was to say fuck you." Delivered with just as much clotting venom as it was before, middle finger held high.

His smirk turns deadly, blowing out a snort as he leans closer as if to share a secret. You can smell the cheap commissary soap that clings to his skin that's starting to lose out to the rapidly building nimbus of smoking caramel that clouds the air as his lips press to your ear.

"Don't have t'. I'll come to you." He pulls back and winks as you're guided out of the room, glare fixed on him as he stands unbothered.

He's lying, prisoners lie all the time especially if they think they can get the upper hand. He couldn't come to you. He couldn't escape prison for starters and lastly there was no way in hell he'd ever find out where you lived. The prison made sure of that by always including a fresh envelope with their own return address in the top left corner, you should know. You only triple checked each time you sealed away the letter, even a fourth time at the post box staring down at the address on the envelope making sure both were correct.

So fuck Bakugou Katsuki for being a dirty liar, fucking hypocrite.

Shoving yourself into an oversized shirt after your body shower you finally get to plop down into bed. Relishing the feel of fresh sheets and blankets as you sigh deeply. It had been a long, long day and no amount of self care could get his toxic blood red eyes out of your head.

Switching on the TV to pull up some show to numb your mind with familiarity when the channel cuts out. Breaking news flashing across the screen makes your body go rigid.

A prison break from Tartarus has occurred in the late evening hours, several high profile villains are believed to have escaped such as Shigaraki Tomura, Todoroki Touya, aka Dabi, Kirishima Eijirou aka Blood Riot, Midoriya Izuku aka Deku and Bakugou Katsuki better known as Ground Zero. Please do not approach suspected escapees, please report any suspicious person or activities immediately. Most importantly keep all doors and windows locked at all times. I repeat do not engage with the inmates.

A knock comes from your left, making you jump out of your skin as you fist the sheets. A cold sweat breaking out over your skin in goose flesh as your hearing rings in your ears. Unable to bring yourself to look at the sliding glass door to your balcony just yet as if you could ignore it and the cause of the sound would simply go away.

Another rapt of knuckles pulls your attention once more before you finally dare to peek to see glowing red eyes peering in. The devil himself at your door and you knew better than to let him in.

Knew better that a locked door couldn't keep him out.

Bromine burning in the night like ever fanned flames, orange jumpsuit obnoxiously out of place against the night sky, stained in deep burgundy red and ash grays, the same colors streaking his face before he knocks again. But this time it's in warning, hard enough to rattle the door that you both know he could rip off the track with ease.

"How- how did you?" Teeth chattering that you grit closed still refusing to give in to his tactics until he presses a small envelope against the glass. Your personal envelope with your real home address listed for return.

Panic bubbles up your throat in a scream that dies at the back of your teeth as you sit frozen a minute longer while he gives a predatory grin, large hands pressing against the glass before his palms glow bright orange. Brighter than his jumpsuit before the glass shatters and your scream finally escapes your lungs.

In an instant he's towering over you, palms pressing into biting shards as he cages you against the plush comforter dipping his head low so he can nose at your throat, hot palm at your ribs. Leave a searing bite pulling a strangled yelp from your soft lips that makes him laugh before his mouth is at your ear for the second time today. Finally speaking dangerously low.

"Told ya I'd see ya soon, Sweetheart."

#bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x you #bakugo katsuki x reader #kitten writes 🖤🐈‍⬛ ✍🏻

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lalunanymph · 11 months ago

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sucker punch (m) — sae itoshi

in the pivotal moments leading up to the most significant fight of his career against his estranged younger brother, sae meets a girl who turns his entire world upside down

warnings:- underground fighter!sae, fem!reader, heiress!reader, reader is coded to be feminine (wears dresses, makeup, heels, etc), language, cursing, mentions of blood, mentions of food, mentions of alcohol, suggestive content, unprotected sex, cowgirl, rough sex, petnames (princess, whore, slut, daddy's girl), choking, power play between sae and reader, degradation, sae is an ass towards reader

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ masterlist ࿐ྂ

✯ chapter 1

Sae didn’t believe in love.

Growing up in a harsh part of Tokyo where he had to fend for himself and his little brother, Rin, gave him an understanding that the world was a cruel place. Yet even crueller were the promises of a happy ending he read in crumpled up paperbacks the old bookstore down his apartment would throw out after it started to yellow.

It was always the love stories that rarely got sold.

Boy meets girl, they fall in love, they fight, they reunite and they live—

“Happily ever after,” Oliver’s voice slammed him out of his reverie. Those heterochromatic eyes prodded him when his silence got too loud.

“Sae, were you even listening to what I just said?”

The younger man slid his apathetic teal eyes to his comrade and friend. He gave a noncommittal shrug.

Aiku sighed. His frustration was threatening to boil over. It would be a month till the U20’s biggest match against Blue Lock and their starfighter was a million miles away.

“I said: We can try the underhanded tactic to bring either Isagi or Rin down and then go for the throat. The money will be ours and we can make enough bank to last us for a year. Neither of us have to fight again. That will be our happily ever after.”

Sae was tired of listening to miracles. He stood up abruptly and nodded.

“Whatever. I’m heading home now.”

Aiku didn’t stop him from leaving, and neither did their other comrades.

Shouldering his heavy parka onto his sore shoulders, Sae stalked out of the U20 facility and to his car. The interior stank of takeout, sweat and the tinny rust of blood. He gunned the engine, but it faltered. Cursing under his breath, he tried again. And again.

But, the stupid engine refused to start.

Contemplating if he should just push the damn car back to his apartment, he almost missed a soft voice clearing her throat.

“Do you need help, sir?”

Sae was about to retort that he had it under control and she should mind her own business, when he caught sight of you.

Dressed in a simple, beige A-line piece that showed off your legs and arms, a chain dangling from your neck and a pair of sunglasses perched on your head, you were the picture of quiet elegance. The fancy clothing couldn’t contain the humble appearance of your smile when you motioned to his car.

“I have a pair of jumpstart cables. You could borrow them.” He still hadn’t responded to you. “If you want,” you added hastily, not wanting to seem pushy.

Sae blinked. His silence stretched on without an intermission.

You faltered and let your embarrassment swallow you whole. In hindsight, Sae found it adorable how you flushed and stuttered like you wished your entire existence would melt away just from his unresponsiveness.

“Sure. That would be great.” After a beat of hesitation, he added a word which seemed foreign coming from his rough and rude tongue. “Thanks.”

This should be the part of the story where boy meets girl.

Sae jump started his car with your help, and as a treat for your kindness, he invited you to a late night izakaya selling his favourite kombu ramen. You were a stranger passing by, someone from the upper end side of Tokyo who noticed him struggling and decided to help.

You told him you knew what it was like to struggle and not be aided. Sae wondered what you could’ve possibly meant when he caught sight of the signet ring on your right hand. A mark of an elite.

He straightened, unintentionally freezing over. You didn’t know him; didn’t know that he was one of the men your world employed as free entertainment for nights when they craved a hit of violence. The both of you were as different as day and night.

“So, what do you do for a living?” you had asked him.

Sae decided to tell you a lie. “I’m a blue collar worker. Delivering stuff.”

“Oh.” You took a look at the finished bowls and beers, the order sheet at the edge of the table. As if understanding what you were planning to do, Sae snatched the bill right in front of your extended hand. He couldn’t resist the small smirk decorating his face when you started to huff and pout.

“My treat,” he murmured, removing his battered wallet from inside his pant’s pocket. “And then we’re even.”

Except, he never did want to draw a tie or cut them off with you.

Sae studied your car number plate, memorising it and used some of his connections to dig up more information about you.

He didn’t have to look far.

Your family were well-known as some of Blue Lock’s biggest sponsors, a direct rival of the U20 faction. Born from a history of blood and violence, your grandfather had been the first pioneer of a fight club that eventually changed the trajectory of his and many other poor men’s lives. As the money poured in, so did the promise of more extortion and exploitation.

Sae reasoned that he should’ve hated you. After all, you were partly the reason why he had to fight for a living.

But, he was intrigued by you. Your gentleness, your humble disposition.

You were a rare jewel he had to unearth.

One day, out of the serendipitous blue, life seemed to listen to his wishes and granted him a rare glimpse into your world.

As one of the rising Platinum fighters who everyone could bet on, Sae was invited to a networking gala hosted by none other than Ego Jinpachi himself. A raging egoist of a man who held his fighter’s lives in his palms like a deranged puppeteer, Sae found himself sitting opposite Rin and his bloodthirsty mentor.

Such a sight would not be unsettling.

As two opposite ends of the fighting arena’s spectrum, Sae and Rin drew lots of attention from potential investors.

The story of two brothers, once tightly knitted and now estranged only to eventually meet in the ring as opponents one day, was a huge investment factor. Filthy rich men with more money than God flocked to both Aiku and Ego to have a hand in orchestrating one of the biggest, historical fights in all of Tokyo’s history.

And tonight, Sae had to face each of them, wondering who would be the one to bolster up his gear or bet on whether he would emerge victorious against his brother. On the opposite side of the table, Rin was detached and uninterested.

Both brothers barely said a word to each other all night; didn’t even glance at the other from across the table.

This apparently caused quite a stir with the investors who were taken by their stone cold treatment of one another.

It’s a tragedy, isn’t it? To face one’s own blood in a ring and fight to spill it?

Sae felt his brow twitch, and the room was starting to cave in. He needed to leave for some air or he would lunge across the table and sock these lofty motherfuckers right in their faces.

The garden was a work of art designed by Ego’s careful hands. After stumbling out of the mansion’s door, he tried to hide himself behind a hedge, staring up at the starless sky as his heart continued pounding in his chest. Sae fully expected to be alone, and not to find a familiar face outside just a few feet from him, nor for you to still recognise him despite the slicked back hair and fancy suit.

“Sae,” you smiled, red lips parted to reveal a row of perfect teeth. You put out your cigarette into a Roman pillar column, leaving a halo of ash and a burnt skid on the otherwise pristine concrete. Sae thought it was rather rebellious of you to do that. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Tipping your head to the side, you studied him. His flushed cheeks, tight lips.

“I thought you said you were a blue collar worker?”

He decided to come clean, spitting out the truth in equal parts aggression and apathy.

“I’m an underground fighter.”

The auburn-haired man fully expected you to crinkle your expression in disgust. Not nodding in understanding.

“I figured. Most blue collar workers don’t have bruised knuckles.”

Unconsciously, he tightened his fists, feeling the callouses and the split skin stretching across his knuckles. “If you knew who I was, then why didn’t you say something?”

Why didn’t you leave?

Rich girls like you had no use for men like him. He was a stain under your shoe, a man with a God complex high off a violent occupation with no God in sight. But, you only smiled at his question.

“You didn’t fawn over me even when you noticed my ring. I like that.”

Somehow, you had gotten close enough for him to smell the vanilla from your hair. Sae tipped his head back, turning his gaze to the side; the action pressing him deeper against the brambly hedge walls. “Whatever you think will happen tonight will not happen.”

He pretended like his heart didn’t skip a beat when you reached for his hand, so much rougher compared to your soft ones. You circled your thumb over the bruise on his palm, increasing the pressure till he felt the wound throb.

“Stop that.” But, he didn’t pull his hand away.

You grinned. “What do you think will happen tonight, Sae?”

His handsome, arrogant face broke out into a sneer. “Just because you order men like me around every single damn day doesn’t mean I have to give into your whims, princess.” He wrenched his hand from yours, trying to ignore how much your touch singed his skin. “And don’t ever touch me again.”

Brushing off your crestfallen expression, he strode back into the mansion, feeling more breathless than when he abandoned the suffocating room full of investors and back-talk about his skills. Rin had left a few minutes after he had, and with his little brother out of the room, he could finally relax.

Except, you chose this moment to enter the same room.

Immediately, everyone stood up.

“L/N-san. Welcome.”

You weren’t the teasing, sweet girl in the garden anymore. Instead, you wore a look of fabricated disinterest, roaming your eyes over every single man. Lingering your searing gaze on his own wide ones before turning to Ego.

“My father sent me here as a representative. Now, which star player do you recommend I speak to first?”

Everyone started to clamour, calling for your attention like dogs scraping at their master’s legs for the last bone.

Eventually, Aiku was the one who cleared his throat loud enough to get the entire room’s attention. Through the hazy tobacco smoke, he cut a handsome figure in his suit, languidly rising to his feet and gesturing at Sae.

“L/N-san, Itoshi Sae is one of U20's undefeatable players. A 6-streak win and low possibility of injuries. A prodigy. You should speak to him first, miss.”

Sae felt like you were analysing him through his suit.

After a beat of tension, you nodded. “Fine. Send him up to my private room.”

You turned and left. Sae stood up, hesitantly casting his gaze to a triumphant Aiku.

“Are you sure she is the richest one out of these assholes?” he murmured under his breath.

Oliver chuckled.

“The richest. With her backing, we’re practically golden. Now, go and woo her. You’ll do great.”

Straightening his tie, Aiku sent him off with a wink. Unlike the atmosphere at the garden, this time, Sae was aware he had to be on his best behaviour—which was a challenge considering he had already rudely brushed off a potential investor.

Fuck, he swore internally. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Why had he been so brash with you?

There was no use in crying over lost chances. He had to man up and knock on the door to your office—face you when he had already insulted you right in the face.

Sae braced his hand on the red oak, breathing in deeply. Here goes nothing. He knocked three times.

“Come in.”

You were sitting on a sofa, legs crossed and expression neutral. Not once did you give him a look like you were hurt from his rejection in the garden. Instead, you stood up, gaze cold and faraway.

“So. You’re the prodigy, hmm?”

Sae kept his eyes lowered, not touching yours. “Yes.”

You patted the sofa seat next to you, gesturing for him to come over. “Sit. We have a lot to discuss.”

Gingerly, he sat down on the other end of the sofa, putting enough distance between the two of you not to make things any more awkward than it already was.

The silence dragged on. Sae stared at the fireplace—the flickering embers throwing lengthening shadows around the room. He counted the cadence of your breath; discreetly wiped his sweaty palms on his expensive slacks.

You broke the silence first with an airy giggle.

“I had no idea I was speaking to such a talented young man.”

He looked up and caught the barest hint of a smirk on your pretty lips. Swallowing his dry throat, Sae croaked, “And I had no idea you were… influential.”

You chuckled, placing your hands on your demurely on your lap. “It’s not me. It’s my father. I’m just his representative. You see, he’s currently bed bound from an injury and doesn’t have any sons so it’s up to me to oversee his work.”

Sae responded to your words with a heartfelt nod, wishing he could turn back the time and slap his old self from pissing off a very powerful investor (and a very beautiful woman).

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

Glancing at him up and down, you chuckled. “I guess we’re at an impasse here. And to think I nearly committed indecency by proposing you come back to my place.”

The memory of your hand in his sparked like a flame in his mind, burning his skin.

“Yes. To think we could’ve done something like that.”

Your eyes lowered to his hands. His pretty teal gaze flickered to your exposed throat.

“It would be horrible.” Your foot brushed his knee. Sae tightened his hands into fists.

Despite the warning bells going off in his head, he relapsed back into his impulsivity, letting it taint his next move with his debilitating habit of never saying no to danger.

“Disgusting,” he retorted, smoothly playing your game.

You gasped, low and quick, when he stretched his hand out to graze your bare shin. He almost smiled at your eagerness.

Pretty rich Daddy’s girl with not a shred of self-preservation in her…

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you mumbled, uncrossing your legs and inching closer to him.

“We shouldn’t,” he confirmed, gruff and sure, but his body was betraying him; moving to meet you in the middle of this wide sofa.

There was something mesmerising about your eyes and face. It entranced him, kept him hooked on the curve of your profile and those alluring lips.

Your breath brushed his cheek, warm and inviting. “It would cause a scandal.”

Sae curled his palm over your jaw, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “It would.” You turned your head slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the pad of his thumb. Such a simple gesture made a thrill of electricity run up his spine, painfully shocking him to the heat pooling right in his groin.

“People will talk.”

He was growing tired of this lame cat and mouse game. Moving closer, he bridged the gap, resting his large palm on your lower back to nudge you not-so-gently onto his lap. The weight of you felt familiar—right. This close, your scent of vanilla was stronger, nearly overpowering him.

Before his lips brushed yours with an intensity that nearly made you dizzy with lust, he mumbled:

“Let them.”

“Sae,” you mewled, nails stabbing into his fleshy biceps.

He had you pressed against your own bedroom door, creaming right on his cock like the perfect little whore you were. Your makeup was ruined, red lipstick smudged and eyeliner crinkled in the corners.

You had let him push your dress to the side, your panties ripped and in tatters on the floor. Sae was quick to fuck you the moment you gave him the green light to, and like the scrappy underground fighter he was, he never missed out on seizing a golden opening.

Your thighs were trembling around his waist, struggling to hold yourself up right. Sae’s mouth devoured your weak mewls, and you let him paw at your covered breasts, ripping the dress down to expose your stiff, bare peaks.

“No bra?” He murmured into the heat of your mouth.

You shook your head, a breathless laugh tumbling past your kiss-swollen lips. “I—mhm—don’t like to wear one.”

“In a room with the other men…” Sae trailed off, a frightening flash of jealousy igniting his veins. The thought of any other man seeing those perfectly suckable nipples even through the silky hint of your dress made him want to break their teeth.

His growl reverberated against your throat, and you were thrown onto the bed, his larger frame crowding you into the sheets.

Sae hitched your thighs up to his shoulders, those teal eyes alight with feral lust.

“Slut.” He slid his cock back into your throbbing depths the second that degrading pet name slipped out of his mouth. “Whore. You could’ve shown them what was mine—what belongs to me.”

He bunched your cocktail dress out of the way, exposing your tits and pussy right into the cold air of your stuffy bedroom.

“Mhmf,” your eyes rolled back into your head. You were panting, bullets of sweat dripping down your face. “I-I belong to you? Says who?”

The Prodigy nearly broke the headboard into two when he slammed into you, hard enough for the entire bed to shake. Your squeal rebounded across the room, sparking his filthy satisfaction.

“Me,” he growled breathlessly. “I said it. You belong to me.”

Curling one hand possessively around your throat, the sloppy sounds of your two sexes meeting together sent him on a hazy high. Those teal eyes were glazed over, the broad muscles on his back twisting and flexing with every thrust into your tight, welcoming heat.

Sae was careful not to choke you too hard, but hard enough for your mouth to fall slack, pathetic whines and drool slipping past your slick lips.

Your toes were curled tightly in his periphery, one hand in between your legs to frantically rub your clit.

“Fucking whore,” he grunted, trying not to swoon at how pretty your sweat-covered skin looked like in the dim moonlight. “Daddy’s girl taking this dick like a champ.”

“Sae,” you dragged out his name. Ending it with a choke.

Sae felt your walls rippling around his cock, and he wasted no time in diving headfirst in between your cleavage to nip and suck at your plush fat; nursing on your nipples like a man close to starvation.

You seized, back arching and he felt those perfect velvet walls choke on his dick. Squeezing down on him.

“Cumming for me already?” He spoke in between harsh exhales. “Fuck. Fuck. This pussy is fucking perfect. I want you to cum for me—only for me. Do it, Y/N. Milk this cock, Princess. Let me fucking fill you up—fuck.” His choked moan made you see stars; the hand around your throat was now gripping your hair, forcing your feverish lips onto his.

You practically ripped at his dress shirt, tearing two buttons off to scratch down his chest. Animalistic whines and low grunts filled the heated space between both your mouths. Sae tasted like champagne and regrets, his tongue lapping right at your teeth.

With one last hard thrust, you broke around his cock, triggering his warmth to fill you up.

Sae slumped onto you, and you dug your heels into the band of his slacks, pushing it further down his toned thighs to expose the rise of his firm ass to your wandering eye.

Your nails bit into the plush globes, raking down his thighs. You played with his balls, squeezing on them lightly to take every drop. Unable to resist taking all of him however you could.

Sae smeared hot kisses down your throat, on your jaw and across your heaving mouth; completely smitten by how cockhungry you were.

The both of you sat in the filth of your mutual mistake, stewing in the greasy silence until you nudged his shoulder. The look in your eyes was glorious; an opponent about to make her next move. Usually, he would push back—never surrender.

But, something locked his muscles in place, keeping him focused on the rise of your shoulders—the dip of your collarbone painted in his hickies.

He let you push him back onto the bed, watching intently as you ripped the expensive dress right off your frame, gesturing to his still clothed torso.

“Take it off. Let me see you.”

Like the obedient fighter he was, Sae unbuttoned his white dress shirt, letting it melt off his broad frame and onto the floor. Scars littered his milky pale skin, catching your curiosity. He silently observed as you straddled his thighs, working his cock back to half-mast with your much smaller fingers. All the while your other hand never stopped caressing his broad pecs and chest; tracing his scars.

Sae didn’t know what possessed him to sit still and watch you.

It was like seeing a painting coming to life; the remorse which melted into determination right in your fiery eyes.

He let you sink down his cock, bracing your palms right on his shoulders. You bucked your hips slowly, grinding down on him with a painful passion; almost like you were afraid of making any sudden movement.

Sae found his large palms slotting perfectly on your hips, holding you right in place.

Pleasure unfurled itself down your body, bending your spine back. It soused across your face, turning your determined stare hazy. You locked eyes with him, and he didn’t dare look away.

“Feels so good,” you managed to pant. “Your cock feels so good.”

He undulated his hips upward, instinct pushing him to surge towards the opening of your cervix. “Yeah?” he almost growled. “Can’t keep your fucking hands to yourself—you’re such an eager slut.”

Despite you being on top of him, Sae was still in charge. He clamped a hand around your throat; yanked on your hair until your neck snapped back and your cry bounced across the room.

“Ride me,” he spat and then licked his lips. “Prove to me that good whores deserve to cum. Make me proud, baby.”

Sae was entranced; unable to tear his eyes away from your pussy leaving milky rings of cream around his cock.

“Mhm,” you tearfully whined. “Yes, yes! I wanna make you proud—wanna make you cum again.”

A thick arm swept you to his chest, muffling your cries right into his throat. Sae bit down on the tender juncture between your neck and shoulder, bucking his hips up into you with enough ferocity to nearly throttle you off the bed.

“Fuck—” he snarled, grabbing at every inch of your skin; spanking your ass, groping it, raking his nails down your back.

Doing everything he could to get you melting for him.

“Give it to me, baby.” Not an order; but a desperate plea. “Cum for me—make me cum. Pretty girl. Pretty baby—g-gonna make me lose my mind—”

“I’m cumming!” Your hitched gasp rang loudly in his ear, like an explosion of joyous surrender. “S-Sae, I-I’m—”

Your walls rippled around him for the second time tonight, and for the first time ever, Sae found a new rush in his life that wasn’t centred around bruised knuckles and split, bloody teeth.

He welcomed it—that surge of crazed passion, so different from when he was about to snuff a man’s life out with his bare hands. Felt it twist his bones, break his soul.

The world exploded in a white ball of heat again, right into the depths of your body, his heart shattering into dust.

Sae tasted your honeyed whisper of his name on his tongue, felt your tears stain his throat.

He held onto you as tightly as he could, afraid that if he opened his eyes, he might find himself back in the ring, the glaring lights forcing your smile from his memory.

But, the jeers and cheers never came. The bell never rang.

It was the sweetest fight he had ever lost.

This was the part of the story Itoshi Sae never expected.

Sae never had a home. His old apartment was recalled back by a shitty landlord who didn’t care about two orphans trying to stay afloat with what little money their dead parents had left them. When social services had taken Rin away, they tried to get him, too, but he was faster.

Swiftly escaping out the window, Sae recalled nothing else but memories of wet underground passageways, nights rummaging through garbage bins and saddling up to the closest homeless community for warmth and company.

Eventually, he met Aiku and everything else that transpired before he became The Prodigy was history.

Fighting was all he had ever known. Violence and terror were all familiar flavours on his tongue.

But tonight, in your sheets, Sae found another sensation creeping up his unsuspecting body that he could not quite name. It was sticky and hot, curling down his spine like a languid rush of lava to pool somewhere deep in his chest when he took in the sight of your pussy wrapped around his cock.

He fucked you deep and hard, like he was trying to erase that sensation. But, you brought it back to the surface with your fingers in his hair, your lips on his and the sweet moans of his name brushing his hot ears.

Where it was easy to repress his entire soul away from the world, Sae struggled to keep his emotions in a tightly shut jar under your gentle attention.

Sae never believed in love; never believed in someone else’s goodness long enough to be confident in his own grace. But, he supposes that tonight’s encounter with you was the closest to love he could ever get.

You let him stay the night, comfortable with him warming your sheets. Sae spent the entire sunrise staring at your face, memorising the curve of your nose and cheeks. That strange sensation was back again, this time stirring him to brush a piece of hair from your temple.

But, like every good love story, it would not be the same without personal demons haunting every sentence.

Sae wasn’t good for you; he knew that. You were a whole station above him, impervious and untouchable.

Unlike fighting, there was no prize in the arena of love. No fame, no glory.

Sae wasn’t sure what would be at the end of this chapter, and a part of him, the scared little boy who had been abandoned by forces beyond his control, didn’t want to stay to find out.

Nothing good would come out of this if he pursued a story that he didn’t know an end to.

The morning after, he had vanished, and you woke up alone in this too big apartment; smell of cedar and oranges still lining your blankets.

Like it was a dream or a memory you could not quite shake off, you wandered down the halls, rustling every corner to find a shred of the man you had trusted enough to let into your inner world. But, he hadn’t stayed long enough to give your world any colour.

The cold walls adorned with art your father had personally picked out for this apartment didn’t reflect your taste or your fondness as you stared at them, hard coals for eyes. The picture in front of you was of a woman, running free in a grassy sea. Above her, a weak sun shone down, illuminating her golden hair.

Monet must’ve been the inspiration for this work, and though the French painter was known for his art that brought a sense of peace to the viewers, this particular one did not inspire the same notion. Perhaps it was the clinical wall it was attached to, or the furniture surrounding it that did not give off the warmth a serene painting like this was supposed to emote.

Whatever it was, you didn’t dwell on it long; turning on your heel and stomping back to your orange-cedar scented sheets, trying to ignore the pathetic ache in your heart which echoed the indent on the empty side of your bed.

©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or claim as your own.

#sae itoshi x reader #itoshi sae #sae x you #sae x reader #blue lock #sae smut #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock smut #series: sucker punch #🦢 writes

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fatkish · 5 months ago

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Gyomei x Abused Cat Hybrid Reader

It was the day before Gyomei Himejima’s birthday. Tengen, Kyojuro, Kanae, Sanemi, Iguro, Kyogai, Tomioka, Goto and Haganezuka, Gyomei’s coworkers, were coming up with a plan to celebrate his birthday. Tengen already agreed to have the party at his house and that his wives would cook. Kyogai was in charge of music, Haganezuka would help out in the kitchen, Tomioka would keep Gyomei busy and bring him to Tengen’s house and Goto would get the cake.

The big issue was what to get the blind, cat loving teacher. As they were discussing and arguing over what to get him, Kyojuro got an idea. “I know! Let’s get Himejima a cat Hybrid!” Kyojuro shouted. “Do you even know where to get one, they’re pretty rare” Iguro asked. “I do, although it’s mostly just animals, I know that they also house hybrids that need homes” Tomioka informed. “I’ll give you guys the address to the facility” he said as he wrote down the name and address before handing it to Kanae.

“Splendid, let’s go.” Kanae cheered as she and the others left to go to the facility. When they got to the facility, they entered and asked the worker lady if they had any cat hybrids. The lady led them towards the back where they house the hybrids. “We do, although we don’t have very many, may I ask which of you is looking for one?” She asked. “The hybrid is for our friend, we’re surprising him with one for his birthday” Tengen informed.

The lady proceeded to lead them to you. You were a Ragdoll/Munchkin cat hybrid. You had been abused by your original owner and rescued, now you sit here waiting down the days til your put down. You have a history of attacking people who have tried to adopt you, you have two strikes already on your record, two more and you’ll be humanely euthanized. You’re rather untrusting of people especially males, and you tend to stay in your cat form.

“I’m afraid we only have the one, although they are rather skittish and unfriendly, they were rescued from their abusive owner so they’re rather violent” They peered inside at you, seeing your fluffy fur and slightly stubby legs, you were adorable and Gyomei was absolutely going to love you. “They’re absolutely perfect, don’t you guys think so, Gyomei will absolutely love them.” Kanae said. The others agreed. “We’ll take ‘em” Tengen said as he left with the lady to sign the papers in Gyomei’s name.

Sanemi entered the small kennel and grabbed you gently by the scruff and put you in a cat carrier all too quickly. You couldn’t even put up a fight. You hissed at him and puffed up your fur as you tried to make yourself as small as possible. As they left, Kanae left to get you some human clothes, while Kyojuro and Iguro left to get you a few other necessities.

Later, at Tengen’s house, the party began and Tomioka texted that he and Gyomei were on their way there. When Gyomei entered the house, they all surprised him and the party began. After eating and drinking and having cake, it was time for presents. They had gotten him cat themed stuff like cat erasers, cat shaped sticky notes, a coffee mug with cats on it, etc. after opening up the other gifts, Tengen came out of his bedroom with the cat carrier you were in.

When Tengen put the cat carrier in Gyomei’s lap you hissed at Tengen, surprising Gyomei. “What is this, is this what I think it is?” Gyomei asked. The others then spilled and told Gyomei about you and your past as well as your two strikes, hearing that you were abused, he cried and promised you that he would never hurt you. Kanae came over and gave Gyomei the stuff for you in a bag. “This bag contains stuff for y/n, that’s their name. It has clothes, toiletries and other necessities.” Kanae explained. With tears in his eyes Gyomei profusely thanked his colleagues.

Sensing your discomfort, Gyomei explained that he wanted to leave, to which his colleagues understood. Gyomei gathered all of the stuff and once again profusely thanked everyone before carefully picking up the cat carrier and heading out the door. As he walked home, he began to talk to you. “Y/n, I’m terribly sorry for how you have previously suffered and I promise that you have absolutely nothing to fear from me. I simply want for us to be able to live comfortably amongst each other. I promise I will never hurt you and I hope that I can provide a better life for you” Gyomei stated as he continued his walk.

Once he got home he unlocked his door and took off his shoes before walking into the living room and setting down your carrier by the couch. He then opened the door and set the bag of stuff for you down on the couch. “I’m sorry but I’m afraid I wasn’t expecting for you to come home with me so you’ll have to sleep on the couch for tonight but tomorrow I’ll help you get settled in and get you a proper bed. I’m going to leave some food out for you, feel free to help yourself. I have work tomorrow so I’ll be heading to bed here very soon” Gyomei told you as he walked into his kitchen and began putting some leftovers together for you and heating them up.

After heating up your food and leaving it out for you, Gyomei left the kitchen and entered his bedroom for the night and bid you goodnight. After an hour, you slowly exit the cat carrier and transformed into your human form. You ate the food that Gyomei left out for you and you put some clothes on that were in the bag. Since you see perfectly in the dark, you explored your new home and wondered how a blind man can get around so easily. After a bit of exploring, you pulled a blanket out of the bag and walked over to a corner before making a little nest and curling up then falling asleep. The next morning when Gyomei woke up he got ready to teach and made you both breakfast and lunch.

“I’ve made breakfast for you as well as lunch, I’ll put them in the fridge for you. If you’re hungry between them feel free to eat whatever you find. I have to go to work now, I work at a school so I won’t be home until 6 o’clock. Feel free to unpack the bag of stuff for you, tonight when I get home we can either go out and buy or order what else you need online. Goodbye” Gyomei informed you as he got ready and left for work. After he left you got up and ate breakfast before going through the bag of stuff for you. You found a couple outfits, some underwear, toiletries like a toothbrush, toothpaste, shampoo and conditioner as well as a brush for your fur. In the bag was also a collar and leash as well as a few cat toys.

After getting everything out, you decided to take a shower and get yourself all cleaned up while you had the chance. You didn’t expect to stay here for very long so you didn’t really bother with putting anything away but you made sure not to move anything around in case Gyomei wouldn’t be able to find it. After your shower you dried off using his towel, slowly inhaling the scent of the man. He smelled really good and you hated to admit it even to yourself.

As time passed you ate your lunch and took a nap until Gyomei got home. He took his shoes off and greeted you. “Good evening y/n, I hope you weren’t too lonely while I was gone. I ordered a cat tree with a scratching post and it should be here in a few days. I hope you enjoy it.” He smiled as he informed you. He walked into the kitchen and began making dinner for the both of you, you waited until he went to bed to eat and thus this became your habit.

Days like this pass as you have very few interactions with Gyomei. To your surprise, Gyomei has yet to get upset with you or force you to interact with him. When he realized that you had yet to put anything away from the bag, he cried. You found out that he cries very easily. Despite his huge frame, the man is actually very gentle and kind. When the cat tree came, he struggled with putting it together, you eventually sat beside him and helped him put it together. You figured it was the least you could do. Despite you being right next to him, Gyomei made no attempts to pet you, which you appreciated.

One night, after Gyomei went to bed, you waited and slowly crept into his room and jumped onto his bed in your cat form. You carefully approached the sleeping man and sniffed him before climbing onto his chest and nuzzling into him. After a lot of time spent near the man, you slowly became comfortable with being around him. Deciding to cuddle up to the man, you purred as you curled up to his chest and fell asleep, unaware that Gyomei was awake the entire time. In the morning, you get up before Gyomei and leave his room and get comfortable in your cat tree.

That day, when Gyomei got home early from work, he sat on the couch and relaxed. Sensing how tired he was, you slowly approached him in your cat form and jumped onto the couch, before walking up to him and rubbing yourself against his arm. You meow at him and crawl onto his lap and begin kneading the fabric of his shirt with your paws, careful not to ruin it. With tears in his eyes Gyomei smiles at you as he slowly reaches up to pet you between the ears. You purr and lean into his pets as he smiles and chuckles. “Such a sweet little kitten, thank you y/n” you licked his tears away as he cried. You then transformed into your human form and stretched out as you snuggled into the large man. You and Gyomei cuddled together that night and thus began the relationship between you and Gyomei.

#demon slayer gyomei #gyomei x reader #gyomei himejima #kny gyomei #kimetsu gyomei #demon slayer x reader

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anundyingfidelity · 10 months ago

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I'M A RUIN — Soldier Boy (Part II)

Series summary: After the events of the Seven Tower, you present Grace Mallory a new secret project you're working on already to develop a cure to Compound V. The only problem? You need Soldier Boy for that.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female reader.

Word count: 2.5k.

Warnings for series: set after S3 (spoilers), some OOC!Ben, some depressed!Ben, angst, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, slow-burn, language, PTSD, reader has Compound V (she's no Vought supe tho), Soldier Boy being an usual asshole, reader is a fucking liar.

Warnings on this chapter: Ben being a misogynist, talks about masturbation and porn, killing threats, Ben's POV in general is a red flag, death.

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

get yourself in the taglist!

tags: @k-slla

GEN MASTERLIST! — SERIES MASTERLIST!

Part II: Silence is Peace

The next day arrived fast, and again, you found yourself walking ready to have a conversation with the supe locked in the facility. A part of you was surprised he didn't try to escape yet, but Ben, on the other hand, was just letting things flow at the moment.

The heavy, metal door opened to let you in. The supe caught by surprise seeing you coming inside full of confidence at this time in the morning. A couple of armed men in black uniforms followed behind as they settled down some furniture in the empty area of the room: two small sofas and a coffee table.

His arrogant self knew those guns wouldn't tear a single hair off of him, but hey, he understood you needed to feel safe. So meanwhile, he decided to play along. He remained still by the bathroom door as you came closer.

"I didn't request that," he said once you stood face to face.

"Oh, I know. I did, it's for your therapy," you smiled, tugging the bag on your shoulder. The armed men finished decorating the cell, and they left with a loud thud of the door being closed behind their backs. "There's been a small change of plans. I will come by every day for one hour. Anything you want you will ask me first and if I approve, then I will bring it to you."

He smirked. Like if he needed to be bossed around by a fucking woman, he thought. "You sure have the balls to stand up on me like that."

"Like I said, I want to help you," you replied, making your way and sitting down on a sofa. "Please," you requested him with a hand to do the same and he followed with curiosity. You put the bag on the coffee table, taking out a notebook, pens, a folder, and a small zip bag containing the only thing he asked from you the day before. You left his reefer on the coffee table, putting the folder in your lap as you waited for him with a smile on your face he found unsettling.

Ben still didn't buy you or your intentions, but he sat down on the opposite sofa nonetheless. You had brought him something he asked from you, something he wanted and would calm him down for a little. Hopefully it wasn't going to be that bad. He only had to put up with the game of doctor-patient. In the back of his mind, he was also grateful you dropped the stupid white coat at the same time he found your attempt to fix him ridiculous. He didn't need to get fixed.

"Your guards ain't hurting me with those guns, you know that," Ben started.

"We have to try," you shrugged. "And you're still here, that has to mean something."

He rolled his eyes. Of fucking course he had to stay. There were a lot of questions in his head. He had to settle down for a moment. Things were different in the world, he needed to learn about today's tech and get a fucking good plan to get away with his shit. Who would he get to kill first? Still thinking about it. How would he escape? Probably could use some help to keep a low profile. Could you be that help, being the only human contact he figured would have from now on? Maybe.

"So how are you feeling? Did you have some sleep?" you asked.

"I slept enough, spent the whole fucking night jerking off," he spat. "That TV of yours now does have good porn some hours in the day."

With wide eyes, you wrote down after his answer.

"Alright. But tell me, how are you feeling?" you pushed, your smile long gone and replaced with a serious face locking your gaze to his own.

"Great, never been fucking better" he smirked and you shifted on your seat.

His green eyes started checking you all over for a second. The pencil skirt hugged your legs perfectly and the blouse was tight enough to show off the size of your breasts. The clothes yelling that you were expensive and valuable for the CIA, and most important, to Mallory. Soon he sensed the discomfort emanating from you as his gaze returned to your face. God, he loved doing that, but you sure were daring to get locked inside a room with him alone.

"You can tell me the truth, you know," you said.

"I can easily break your neck and explode this shithole if I want to," he spat back.

"You won't do that. You had the chance yesterday, today even, and yet here you are."

He thought you sounded so sure about that. Ben held your gaze. Neither of you dare to break eye contact. It was like you were challenging him to something he wasn't aware of just yet. He didn't like that, but he remained there, breathing deeply with a strong look on his face. You were right though, and he realised could find you a good usage besides the obvious fucking use for pretty girls like you. He might have missed a good fuck for 40 years but the little common sense on the back of his mind told him the porn channel was enough for now.

"Listen, I know you're not a bad guy," the words fell softly from your lips. "I know you didn't mean to harm those people in Midtown... And in order to help you I could use some information on how you feel every time the blast comes-"

He stood up abruptly, strong enough to move the sofa he was sitting some feet away behind his back and yelled aggressively.

"Fuck off, bitch. What the fuck do you know about me? I don't trust your kind and you're making my threat sound like a great plan now.

You held his gaze as he made his way towards you. You were a prey in his cage, but even if you were scared, he didn't sense any sign of it. Ben's big frame towered you, standing just inches away from the couch you sat on. The space was enough for him to kill you with only one hand but you never moved or flinched a second.

"If you touch me, just a single hair on my scalp, you're fucked."

"C'mon sweetheart, you're no match for me," he mocked with a smirk on his face.

"Novichok definitely is."

He tightened his fists with his lips on a straight line, and his heartbeat increased at the mention of that fucking poison. Meanwhile, you just sat down looking at him with a blank face and innocent eyes. For a moment, he was tempted to just kill you but he forced himself to calm the fuck down. He didn't want to black out again, he certainly did not want to become a fugitive. If he was going to do something, it had to be done well.

"Soldier Boy, it's okay," you got on your feet. His eyes followed your moves. "It's fine if you don't want to talk to me. I can't force you to."

He saw a strange sparkle in your eyes. Were you pitying him? He didn't need that. And when he said nothing, then you continued.

"You accepted the deal, and that includes therapy to help you get out of your trauma. And sooner or later, you have to talk to me," you explained, he felt like a fucking child being scolded.

"You want to fucking help me and spray me with Novichok at the same time," he groaned.

"We have to take our precautions. But trust me. I’d rather not use that on you, I prefer other ways."

"This is fucking crap," he mumbled through his teeth.

He watched you making your way towards the book shelf, leaning down to grab a couple of books. He took in the curve of your ass as you knelt, and he wondered if you were doing all that little show on purpose to test him. His jaw clenched once again at the thought of being played with false promises and a cure to his memories.

"I can leave, but I will come tomorrow," you tossed two books on the coffee table: one about PTSD, the other one about new technology for him to start educating himself on that. "Start reading those and write down in the notebook anything you have to say. It can be about the books, your thoughts, your feelings... Anything you want. I don't have to know unless you want me to."

If looks could kill, you were already dead. He still didn't trust you. He didn't understand completely why a stupid psychiatrist of the CIA wanted him to go through rehab. You were a woman, for fucks sake. Psychiatrists were old, wise, rich men back in his days, not expensive sluts.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "You're lucky I'm trying hard not to crush your bones right now, pretty thing."

"At least you're trying, that's improvement," you smiled cockily, pointing at his chest with a finger and you took your bag and belongings together, as if he didn't threaten to kill you like three times in the same conversation. "I will leave you now. Have a good lunch, Soldier Boy."

"Time of death 9:41 a.m."

The sound of the monitor disturbed your senses as the voice announced all over the place the death of yet another supe. You watched through the windows as two lab assistants ran inside the chamber to take out the lifeless body of the woman who had given her life to volunteer and assist the program. Anything for the cure, you remember her voice saying, even after she was warned about the possible effects. The worst of them being death. The contract stipulated it clearly and you told her to think twice before agreeing to take the third version of the Anti-V, although she hesitated a lot before joining.

You breathed out. The formula needed improvement, quickly. How many corpses had they taken out of there? You lost count already. You ordered Bianca, your young assistant, to note down all the details one day after the second death of a supe you witnessed, and for her to count them as necessary and at all cost. Arms folded on your chest, your jaw clenched, losing hope and feeling despair running through your spine. The discomfort of what had to be done to find a cure sometimes was too much of a burden. But sacrifices had to be done.

And speaking about sacrifices, you knew you had to get into Soldier Boy's head as soon as possible. The few other sessions you tried to talk to him were useless. The sixth one being today before lunch. A part of you was growing tired of faking it and pretending to be a psychiatrist, it really wasn't your field but you knew how to be one after many sessions, research, and medication on your own. Grace had taken care of your training years ago and this was just another mission with a huge impact and objective in mind: destroy Vought and Homelander, and then provide the cure to supes who didn't want their powers and give them the chance to live a normal life. People like you needed the cure, but first things first.

"Doc, the analysis of Blaze is updated," Bianca said, giving you the tablet to check the information on the supe that was collected.

"Thanks."

Blaze, or Electra Richards was her real name, was a low-profile supe for some time, and you had a secret track of those like her with some help. These kinds of supes didn't really represent a threat to Vought, so it was kind of easy to contact them and give them a possible solution with a warning written all over the place. When Electra was contacted, she had to think about it but eventually said yes. She was young and brave, but she never wanted powers. She had superhuman strength and healed in minutes, seconds even, her bones were indestructible, and when your people ran the proper tests on her she was healthy as hell. Pity that her body wasn't enough to take in the injection of the new Anti-V prototype.

You read the last notes your assistant typed on the supe's profile.

Cause of death: sudden cardiac arrest caused by ventricular fibrillation; failure in electrical signaling within the heart.

You couldn't continue like this, not anymore. Nine months and nothing seemed to work out. Some supes died, some of them quit the program, and you didn't really blame them for it. The failures were growing bigger than the small steps close to creating the final antidote. The process was becoming an endless trial and error. With a tired face and a sigh, you left the tablet on a desk and walked out making your way to your office.

You took out your cell phone and dialed Grace, walking around the room worriedly. You needed to vent or talk. Anything. And gladly, she picked up by the third ring.

"Is everything okay?" she asked on the other line. She knew you too well.

"I- No, it isn't. But you already know that," you breathed. "Another supe died on trial today. I don't know how many we have-" your voice cut off abruptly and you sighed, composing yourself after a moment. "We keep losing a lot of people..."

Grace exhaled. "It's part of the job. It's your project, you know it was coming when I approved to do this."

"That makes it even worse, you're not helping me," you replied with a playful tone. "I've been thinking- I would like to try the cure."

"No. We need you to focus on this."

"And when I get him, when I get Soldier Boy's blood? He already takes powers of supes with the blast. Should be easier."

"He's your safest option for now. You'll find a way to get it, I trust you. But don't make stupid and hurried decisions, just wait for the right moment," the lady scolded. You smiled a little, like if she was watching you. "About that, how's he doing? Is he cooperating?"

"Not at all, that's my other problem," you fell back on your chair ungracefully, your back hurting at the thought of seeing him again that day. "I am trying to get him to talk, even using my cards of dressing up like I'm a fucking slut with tight skirts and all, but he's really backing up. Besides he's a fucking dick," your words made Grace chuckle for a bit.

"All supes we have dealt with are dicks, especially Vought. But Y/N, you got this," her words attempted to make you feel better. "This is one of our best options to take them down for once. I know you've been working on this way long before you talked to me, and that's the reason I know it's gonna work, doing whatever it takes."

"Thank you, Grace," you mumbled from your heart. Disappointing her was not on your list, and you hoped it won't happen anytime soon. So you switched the topic of the conversation. "And how have you been?"

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy imagine #soldier boy imagines #soldier boy fanfiction #the boys tv #the boys fanfiction #soldier boy #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles

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whumpback-wail · 1 year ago

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06 - Embrace

Trial by Fire (Wriothesley x Reader) - TW/CW in masterlist

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IMPORTANT NOTICE: Reminder that this fanfic contains dark and mature themes. The TW/CW are in the masterlist and are constantly updated as I add each chapter. Please reread the warnings, proceed only after you reread the warnings. If you don't like/can't handle the topics mentioned in the TW/CW, please DO NOT read. This work is 100000% fictional and any similarities to real life people and events are purely coincidental, and none of the characters (especially the villains) are real. Again, please DO NOT read if you are not certain you can handle these topics or are in a bad place mentally. Minors are strictly forbidden. I only create content, and I am not responsible for your personal content preference and moderation. If you think you will not like this story, please just scroll away. You have been warned.

The snow fell slowly, painting the streets of Fontaine white. Wriothesley's black jacket a stark contrast that stuck out against the white landscape as he briskly walked towards the hospital.

(y/n)...

The anger had slowly subsided, taking its place was a mix of guilt, worry, and something else he couldn't put a finger on. All he wanted that moment was just to hold her in his arms again, and let her feel safe.

Like muscle memory, he walked straight towards her room, but was stopped by a nurse.

“Your Grace, (y/n)’s room has been moved to a different one, a fire seemed to have started there but we managed to catch it before it caused too much damage.”

He cussed under his breath, “where’s (y/n)? Is she okay?”

The nurse nodded, “she’s alright, just a bit shaken. She told us fire suddenly burst out of the book by her nightstand just as she was reaching for it.”

And we’ve only got the information on vision injections today, what’s with this timing.

“Take me to her room.”

“Certainly, right this way, your Grace.”

The nurse, while explaining to him everything that happened, led him to a different floor from (y/n)’s previous room. He immediately knew which room (y/n) would be in once he spotted Navia’s 2 men in front of the door, who promptly stood up and gave him a salute, to which he nodded politely.

“Oh right,” Wriothesley turned to the nurse just as he was entering the room, “there are some new updates for everyone we rescued from that facility, one of Spina di Rosula’s men will be here soon with a copy of the files. Guys might need them for medical purposes.”

When he entered the room, his eyes immediately landed on (y/n), who he initially thought was asleep, until she opened her eyes. She must have noticed his grim expression, because she immediately sat up.

“Wriothesley? Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

He shook his head, taking a seat next to her. He wanted to spill everything and tell her that he knew everything. The things they did in the facility, the experiments, her… assault. But will it cause her to have another panic attack? Does she even want to know, or does she want to just forget? Does she have any idea what happened and how she could set fire to her book? Does she know her vision is still with her even now?

He blinked back his tears, refusing to meet her eyes, but (y/n) could tell from the way he gripped her hand, it was something serious.

“Wriothesley, love, you can tell me,” (y/n) placed a hand on his cheek, to which he automatically leaned into. “I can tell you’re probably worried about my mental state, but hey my therapist told me I’m doing well!”

He recalled, clear as day, the number of times he had tried to bring up questions about what happened at the facility. (y/n) had only managed to explain bits and pieces of information, but had been only the things she knew, she did mention painful injections but didn’t know that it was her own vision that was injected into her. Those sessions had always ended with her crying and panicking. He didn’t want to put her through that.

He smiled bitterly, “I know you are… I just don’t think you’re ready for this.”

(y/n) swallowed, “is it… is it about me?”

Wriothesley nodded, eyes still averted.

(y/n) squeezed the hand that held hers, “I… I think I’m ready to know more.”

Wriothesley looked up, now his steely blue gaze met with her concerned yet nervous ones.

“Are you sure?” his thumb rubbed circles into the back of her hand.

(y/n) took a deep breath, “yeah, I’ll tell you if it gets too much.”

Wriothesley nodded, and told (y/n) everything he learned. The experiments, the vision injections- (y/n) was really shocked at this, although she had a suspicion about it when she saw her book catch fire so suddenly. As he spoke, Wriothesley kept a close eye on her expression and gestures. He’s been with her long enough to know if she’s uncomfortable, or if it gets too much for her. Whenever her breathing hitched, he would stop for a bit and rub her back until she gestured for him to continue.

“That was all we got from the notes left behind at their base,” Wriothesley eyed (y/n) carefully. She was playing with a loose thread poking off the end of her blanket, eyes distant and looking as if she’s processing all the information.

Wriothesley knew he had to keep going. “and now we have Dougier under our custody.”

At the mention of his name, (y/n) visibly tensed up, “oh…”

“I heard he assisted in some of the experi- procedures.”

(y/n) hesitated, “did you manage to get more information out of him? Like how do we reverse the vision injections? How do I control it?”

“Apparently only Arderne knows that bit of information,” Wriothesley sighed, shifting nervously, “and right now he’s still at large. I assure you we’ll get him, and that you’re safe here, okay?”

(y/n) nodded.

The room fell silent for a few tense moments. (y/n) picked up her blubberbeast plushie and held it to her face. It smells like Wriothesley, as he had sprayed his cologne on it. It brings a feeling of comfort to her, as if a reminder that she is never alone and that he’s with her and keeping her safe even when he’s not by her side.

Watching her, Wriothesley hesitated, but he had to- need to ask her.

“(y/n).”

Sensing his change of tone, (y/n) tensed, her hand stopping mid stroke down her plushie’s back. She turned to him.

He seemed to hesitate, looking down at her blanket instead of her face. The silent stretched for what felt like hours before he finally raised his gaze to meet her eyes.

“At the facility- no. uhh… How do I say this.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, “How… How often do you throw up?”

(y/n) blinked, confused. “what?”

“Every morning these last few days, you wake up and rush straight to the bathroom. We did think it was a stomach bug, but when I asked the nurses for the diagnosis, it was as if they're hiding the information from me.”

She couldn’t breathe. It felt as if her blood was frozen but it burned at the same time. Fuck he knew. Wriothesley knew. He’s always been so observant how did she think she can even hide this from him?

“(y/n)... Are you hiding- uhh… Are-Are you pregnant?”

It was like a dam that burst. A sob escaped (y/n)’s lips, one that she tried to hold back but failed. That was confirmation enough for Wriothesley, who felt his own tears prickling behind his eyes. A split second later, (y/n) shot out of her bed, and with wobbly steps using her crutch, went straight to the bathroom. Wriothesley had gotten up to help, but was pushed away feebly. Quickly, she threw open the lid of the toilet and expelled the contents of her stomach into the toilet.

“(y/n)-”

“Don’t-” (y/n) sobbed, flushing the toilet and sinking down even lower onto the bathroom floor, “I don’t want you to see me like this. You shouldn’t have known about this.”

Wriothesley paused, then slowly took another step towards her, hands open as if trying to calm a scared animal. Before he had a chance to speak, (y/n) continued.

“I feel so dirty and gross. No matter how many times I showered and scrubbed myself I can still feel his hands.”

He took a step. “(y/n)...”

“I was going to take care of the abortion process myself, and just forget everything that happened. I didn’t want to tell you. I’m so sorry I couldn't tell you. I just feel so disgusting.”

Another step. “Darling please-”

“I don’t want you to look at me or think of me differently, I just want to put everything behind me, pretend none of that ever happened and just go back to how everything was.”

Wriothesley slowly sank to his knees beside (y/n), who scooted away from him, as if by reflex.

“Don’t touch me. I-I can’t… I know you’ll probably feel disgusted and hate me for it, for hiding it from you, for everything-”

On the contrary, seeing (y/n) like this only served as the final trigger that released his tears, which finally flowed freely down his cheeks. All he wanted to do was hold her and keep her safe, tell her he loves her and… She looked so broken he just wanted to hold her. Archons, please let me hold her.

“I’ll disappear from here if that’s what is best. Just say it. You don’t want me anymore-”

”(y/n),” his voice shook, “I’m so sorry that happened. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to get you sooner. No one deserved to go through what you did. Everyday I hated myself for it, I kept thinking I should have done this, or that. I should have gotten you sooner.”

(y/n) wiped her tears, only for it to be replaced by more. Her vision was blurry as she tried to look at him. Part of her was glad about it, as it probably hid the disgust in his eyes.

“I’m not disgusted by you, no, that was the furthest thing from my mind. (y/n) may I hold you? Please?”

(y/n) just kept sniffling and wiping her tears which seemed to flow endlessly, but made no move to scoot further away, so Wriothesley slowly approached her and took her hand in his. He placed a gentle kiss on it, which only made her cry even more.

“I’m sorry darling, I’m so, so sorry.”

He gathered her in his arms and held her tightly, as if afraid that she would disappear as soon as he let go.

(y/n)’s voice quivered as she asked “y-you don’t hate-”

“Sshhh…” Wriothesley placed a kiss on her forehead, his own tears fell off his cheeks and onto hers. “Something like this can never make me hate you, I promise. I understand why you wanted to hide it, but please know that you don’t have to. We’ll figure out our next step together okay?”

He didn’t know how long they both sat there on the bathroom floor, crying in each other’s embrace. It took a long while for (y/n)’s sobs and sniffles to die down. He kept one hand on her back, and the other stroke her hair, hoping to provide as much comfort as possible.

I love her.

“I wish you can see yourself through my eyes,” Wriothesley whispered in her ea, “it’s gonna be okay. I promise you, (y/n).”

His words were met with silence, as it has been the past few minutes.

“If nothing else I say sticks, at least please let this be the one thing you remember. It’s not your fault. I love you (y/n), you’re still the same old (y/n) I know and love, and Archons, no matter what happens I can’t imagine a life without you. I love you so much (y/n), none of this is your fault.”

He decided to wait a little longer before he noticed that her breathing was slower. Wriothesley peered at her face and saw that her eyes were closed.Tear tracks were still present on her cheeks, which he wiped away with his thumbs, before placing a gentle kiss on top of her head.

Slowly he shifted his position so that he was carrying her in a princess carry, with her head resting comfortably on his shoulder. He walked over to her bed and gently laid her down, tucking her in under the blanket, and placing her plushie right beside her.

For some time, he sat beside her, just admiring her features and tracing her cheeks all the way to her jaw with the back of his hand, light as a feather.

“We’ll get through this together, you and me. I promise you.”

[<<< previous chapter] • [masterlist] • [next chapter >>>]

(っ˘̩╭╮˘̩)っ(ノ_<;。)

If you think reading this chapter is hard, imagine writing it :”D emotional damage

Apologies for the late update, and perhaps a steady decline in writing quality (I’m no writer, just doing this for fun!) as I have been swamped with work this past week after I was down with a bad cold for quite a bit (there’s been a bug around, and so many people were sick :”D) I sincerely thank all of you for your continued support for this series, I love you guys. Hope you all stay safe and healthy!

I hope the next chapter won’t be as hard to write because hoooo BOYE. my bf had to comfort me after I finished writing this chapter.

Taglist: @almosteggs @quuela @tempest1art @yamanaka13-blog @arseneumbra @kimmeaahh @cottonfluffs @randomidk-123 @applejayee @keigo-hawks-takami-simp @mechanicalbeat1 @aribae14 @bforbiblio @supernerdycookietrashblrr @furblrwurblr @chifuyus-kitty @bunnibabe @the-real-fandom-person @idawnghoul

#wriothesley x reader #whump #anime whump #whump writing #whump fanfic #wriothesley #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #wriothesley angst #wriothesley x reader angst #hurt/comfort

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too-many-rooks · 1 month ago

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I LOVE werewolf river omg

I AGREE I'm always such a sucker for any kind of supernatural creature AU and I think werewolfism just suits him so well.

It's the need to be a part of something, the need to be told he's a good boy, that he's helpful and useful. Being too loyal and trusting to the people he cares about, or respects, or defers to as an authority, and getting fucked over by them, bc his loyalty is never returned. How Frank and his pack(/cult) could come into his life and it's like this missing piece, finally understanding exactly why he's felt so lonely his whole life, and how tempting any kind of offer of family would be.

How much he loves fucking running all the time, how he can take a beating and shake it off fairly quickly, how good he is at the hunt, at tracking people down and following them without them recognising he's there.

Anyway I started rambling a bit too much about the many fun werewolf River ideas developed with @countessrivers that we’ve been batting back and forth in the tags, but decided to add a bit more detail and contained it under the cut where I elaborated a bit (a lot) more

One evolving thread of an idea is one where River gets stuck in werewolf form at the end of S3 after he gets exploded/nearly killed. Transforming and flipping out a bit and eating a bunch of Chieftain guys (and maybe Nick Duffy also.) Louisa chasing after him to explain to Shirley and Marcus that the massive wolf currently munching on Head Dog's liver is River, and please don't shoot him, but also - considering how he unbothered he was by Chieftain's bullets, probably won't do much but annoy him.

River snapping out of his bloodthirsty rampage once the smoke has cleared and the immediate threat is gone, but having some difficulties when it comes to 'okay, now be a human again' (The idea being this is perhaps the first time he's transformed not during a full moon.) Kind of switching into silly puppy mode, not at full human brain capacity, not particularly bothered by anything - he's had a hunt, and a meal, and now some of his pack is here! Great! Maybe him and Shirley play fetch, have a little play fight, I think that would be cute.

Louisa sending Shirley and Marcus off to publish the file, her sneaking River out and into her apartment. River going through the indignity and betrayal of being showered and just a Sad Wet Wolf in the bathtub, but Louisa refusing to let him near her furniture/floor when he's so gross and still covered in blood and gore and whatever was on the floor at that facility. The heartbreak continuing when Louisa won't let him sleep at the end of her bed. Louisa pointing out that he didn't exactly bring his clothes with him when he turned into a giant fucking wolf, so when he wakes up tomorrow morning - hopefully back to normal - she doesn't exactly want her colleague/just about friend naked on her bed! (River presumably sneaking on/being let on anyway, the puppy dog eyes have got to be killer)

And then the next day coming; and River's still a big stupid werewolf. Louisa and River ending up at (a not dead) Spider’s apartment, who may or may not know about his lycanthropy already, but knows it’s River pretty quickly either way. River busy terrorising Spider’s wardrobe by ripping up all his ties and gnawing on his shoes, but eventually Louisa needing to leave. River and Spider engaging in their standard pettiness and humiliation rituals around stuff like Spider trying to make him eat dog food/from a dog bowl, trying to make him wear a collar bc they need to go into public and River’s a literal giant wolf so he needs one for his doggy disguise so people don’t start screaming on the tube. (And obviously, the many ways River might be collared by all these various people and all the fun uses for/implications of it)

Spider needing to go to the Park, and having to take River with him/not trusting him alone in his apartment. Not resisting the opportunity to make fun of how the only way River’s allowed back in now is as an office pet, (someone overhearing and realising he’s named his dog after his work frenemy/rival he has always had a… weird kind of obsession with and just like. Okay then.)

Spider getting intercepted by Diana who sends him to do something for her, but not letting him take his dog with him, that would be deeply unprofessional- no, she’ll look after it, presuming it’s house trained.

Diana thinking how she’d quite like to have some additional back-up in a meeting she’s got later that day with Whelan/Judd, whoever might benefit from being growled at by a big scary dog, sending him to the fancy dog groomers to get a blow out to make him look all dignified and fancy to act as her particularly intimidating accessory.

River not, *not* enjoying being a guard wolf for Taverner and having her scritch his ears and tell him he’s a good boy. Her taking him back to her place, cottoning on to who exactly he is eventually, bc, she’s a smart lady, and maybe he can get away with responding to ‘River’ but also responding to ‘Cartwright’ being pretty much a dead give away.

Diana thinking about how River could be useful to her now, could be a solid asset, especially if she’s seen footage/evidence of what he did at the facility wanting a loyal dog of her own after everything with Duffy, and now Flyte (and perhaps the ‘dogs’ being a very literal name and them being werewolves too, who rejected River bc he doesn’t smell right bc he technically belongs to a different pack, also a potential thought.)

River finally turning back in Diana’s apartment, feeling extremely awkward being naked and in her home, fashioning some kind of toga from a blanket to protect his dignity/not flash his boss.

Diana not really caring, instead giving him her pitch/job offer, and it’s to work for *her* directly, to cover her back, to protect her, even when that means protecting her from the service/Lamb. Potentially playing into any latent mummy issues/general need for the approval of authority figures in his life to push him along. It not being how he thought he would/wanted to go back to the Park, but it being an opportunity he can’t really turn down.

And then, how his connection with Frank would be different, him presumably being a werewolf in the first place bc he inherited it from his dad. And how River, who I’m imagining having been a lone wolf his whole life, potentially never even meeting other werewolves, so Frank coming into his life and it being kind of this revelation, and he’s fascinated by him, and all that he could teach him, and the idea that he sort of knows River better than he knows himself worming it’s way into his brain.

And, if it’s carrying on that earlier plot line I laid out, Frank getting involved as River is coming back under Diana’s sway, and moving back toward the Park in the space between seasons 3 and 4, Diana needing someone to train her new pet werewolf, Frank hearing about that through the grapevine and assuming MI5’s untrained pup is probably his boy, and wanting to check in.

Frank being presented as like ‘the werewolf specialist’ here to solve all their problems, but saying he needs to take River out of London to be able to train him properly. And, don’t worry, he’ll totally give him back. (Maybe he will, maybe it’s more of a split custody/River getting the Mi5 jobs, but very definitively belonging to Frank/being part of his pack/cult.)

So River slotting into life at Les Arbes, and finding out about Frank being his dad and meeting his half-brother(s) and becoming a part of a pack for the first time in his life, and feeling like part of a big family, and like - having friends his age, and them perhaps being playfully and physical affectionate, scrapping and play fighting and cuddling in a way that River’s always craved but never really had access to, bc it’s just like, basic werewolf socialisation.

And obviously, you know, there being, a kind of unsettling vibe - it’s clear that they’re some sort of off-the-books paramilitary werewolf squad, but perhaps the super intense cult stuff is turned down a bit when not in a time of crisis, and for River’s sake, and perhaps it’s not as necessary in an a werewolf AU where there’s more pack ties to each other and submission and obedience toward the pack Alpha is kind of innately ingrained.

But how River could sort of… accept all of that, the part of him that is desperate for action, and craves fieldwork - getting that at Les Arbres, even if it’s more shady than the career he had planned. And perhaps being able to dismiss any kind of strange cult-y interactions as being a part of like, werewolf culture that he knows nothing about, (like he can shrug off all the weird kissing in the book as werewolf socialising, bc wolfs lick each others mouths as a greeting,) and wanting to integrate so much he doesn’t want to question it all. (And then uh. How different social conventions/rules/relationships are. For freaky horny reasons. And just, much potential there. Sorry not sorry.)

Anyway that’s sort of one thread of an idea that has many spin-off and tangent and adjacent ‘what if�� ideas, some of which involve a lot of fun vampire stuff which I won’t share for risk of spoiling a potential upcoming fic I’m very excited for 👀

But yeah, long story short anon, same.

#I have so many werewolf River thoughts #what if he was just a big dumb goofy ginger werewolf who wants to be told he's a good boy?#what if he also ate someone? what then?#sorry for the ramble anon this is maybe not what you were expecting 😅#slow horses #river cartwright #werewolf river cartwright

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marigold-hills · 5 months ago

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Dunes & Waters, part 46

PART 1 • PREVIOUS PART • NEXT PART

Remus,

Congratulations, although of course I didn’t doubt you’d manage for a minute. (Remember how bitterly you complained about the Curse Breaker I got for you? Want to take that back now?)

I’m out of the country for the next two weeks, and would rather not have anyone else subjected to Black - the last person I entrusted the bastard with ended up shagging him, would you believe that?

I’ll come two days after the full, should give you time to recover. I’ll take Black’s tracking charm off and bring him the release paperwork from the Egyptian Ministry of Magic. Let him know won't you, I’d rather not have to write him directly if it can be avoided.

Oh, the Department of Magical Creatures can’t wait to get their hands on the potion, have it ready for me to take as well?

Kingsley

***

Kingsley,

I refuse to acknowledge any issues there may or may not have been regarding the Curse Breaker.

Sirius will be ready for you. How long until he’s allowed back in Egypt?

Shouldn’t the potion stay here? I have to keep in good standing with the Egyptian research facilities and I can’t imagine anyone here would be pleased about yet another artefact of theirs getting smuggled to Britain.

See you after the full,

Remus

***

Remus,

You are a harbinger of trouble for me. The moment your letter came through, the EMM sent me a representative to dispute the removal of your research from Egyptian soil. They don’t even know what it’s about and the moment they got the goods declaration portkey paperwork they were up in arms.

Leave it with the curator at Aswan Library and they’ll do as they need.

Also, Black is never allowed back, as per stipulation from EMM for his release. Didn’t he tell you that?

Kingsley

***

Never allowed back.

Remus can see the words, in Kingsley’s efficient, militant handwriting, in everything Sirius does. He picks out peaches at the market, and they flash before Remus like memories. Wakes up in the morning, and the stretch rearranges the lines of his tattoos. They’re spelled in the spill of dark hair on a white pillow.

Because Remus can’t leave. He worked his whole life to be allowed to be there, against prejudice and against academic rivalries. His speciality is Egypt. He can’t study Egypt from anywhere but there.

And Sirius can’t come back.

***

Remus doesn’t do things by halves. He’s not a man who can be casual. It’s why his first real interest became his lifelong career. Why he’s managed to stay with it, despite the obstacles.

Why, now, as he sees Sirius wake up by his side, when they only have days left together, he knows that this is it for him. This is the man his heart and his mind had chosen, for better or for worse. Even when he’s gone, and Remus is left behind, it will be him.

An image forms, of a time some months or years down the line. Searching for something fleeting and meaningless. Leaving beds at night, leaving behind limbs that aren’t Sirius’. Pointless endeavour because Remus doesn’t do casual and, after having Sirius, after losing Sirius, he won’t be able to do permanent either.

He’s had his permanent. He has it still, even if it’s only temporary.

It’s an oxymoron, but Sirius is so many of them. Brash and loud, then soft and careful. Caring and careless. A hurricane made flesh inside a body too human to contain it.

Remus presses his lips and his teeth into pulse points like he could taste the heartbeat.

The last line of the translation comes together.

If you do not return, my beloved, if the gods block your path, I will meet you again in the Afterlife.

“She was willing for her love to die? Just to have control during the full moons?” Sirius says in shock, like his heart cannot contain such a thing. Like he, himself, would never, like the price is too steep.

“She was willing to give her love the option.”

“That’s not a good option.”

Remus smiles into the crook of Sirius’ neck. It’s endearing, how sure he is of his opinions. “That’s not for you to decide.”

Sirius pushes him away, looks him in the eye, all humour gone. “You promised me.”

“I did. And I’ll promise again. I won’t drink it.”

Relief, a pull, and they’re tangled up again.

“It’d be a waste of it anyway. The EMM will probably assign a Potions Master to work on it. Maybe they’ll figure out how it works, make it safe.”

“Do you think you’ll be allowed to work on it with them?”

“Maybe. Hopefully,” Remus has been thinking about this, about what comes next, in all aspects of his life. “I wonder if they’ll let me publish the findings. I think there are some journals that would be interested. If not… I had other things I was working on before the Box. None as exciting, but it’s something.”

Remus turns onto his stomach, pulls Sirius underneath him. “I think, most importantly, we deserve a holiday,” he’s aware of why he says it, why he takes time off work to spend it with Sirius but he won’t voice it. “Anything you want to see before you leave Egypt? Tell me. I’ll take you anywhere.”

Sirius touches him softly and gently and like he’s precious, but there is something closed off in his face, like already he’s half gone.

NEXT PART

@tealeavesandtrash

@moon-girl88

@hoje--aqui

@cocoabutterandbooks

@onion-sliced-apples

@prancingpony42

@digital-kam

@remoonysiriusly

@sweetstarryskies

@a-sunset-outside-my-window

@procrastinatingstuff

@annaliza999

@arasael

@a-pine-cone

@goldenprophetwrites

(let me know if you do/don’t want to be tagged!)

#wolfstar #sirius black #remus lupin #marauders #dead gay wizards #fanfic #remus x sirius #marauders era #dunes and waters

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anticidic · 19 days ago

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can i have "human experiment thing" for the wip ask game? :)

My newest brainrot hehe

this is a mer!person Chuuya and lifeform!Dazai au. Initially I was going to make him an android, but he became an ambiguous lifeform contained in a tiny, dark room in a facility underwater with only a large window to look out as he's attached by the wrists to several giant machines.

(putting the rest under a read more because it goes into the human experiment thing more. tw: blood, tw: human experimentation)

Dazai's connected to several giant machines that look like hands that are attached to his wrists and they're powered by his blood. There's one on the ground to his right that has a large monitor on it that displays his vitals and sounds an alarm when his heartrate either goes too high or dips too low. there's also monitoring his blood pressure and liters of blood taken. it has stopgap measures to ensure he doesn't just... die. from blood loss, but there's also manually overriding that. plus machines are fallible to malfunctioning. Dazai can't just rip them off because they're in his veins

he was taken at a young age, and now he's hooked up to the wires where his blood breeds electronics to life, feeling less and less human. now he's part of a secret government project that's testing the ability for machines to be powered by humans through self-sufficient and self-replenishing ways, in this case: blood.

mer!Chuuya passes by the facility one day and circles around to see the large window with someone sitting down and their back facing away. he eventually gets Dazai's attention when he knocks on the glass, and that's how they meet. Chuuya will bring slugs and sea snails and attach them to the window as a way to try to comfort Dazai.

Dazai trying to make light out of his with morbid jokes. So Mer!Chuuya not yet understanding what Dazai's hooked up to and what it means, just that he knows humans obviously shouldn't be hooked up like that. They should be on land and free. And Dazai's like: "Hey, wanna see something cool I can do?" And Chuuya's curious, so he nods because Dazai's smiling and nothing seems off. Then a hand roars to life and extends toward Chuuya that Dazai uses to wave at him, but it steals some of his blood in the process to operate and Dazai winces a lil when he feels a bit lightheaded Chuuya looking questioningly (and horrified) when Dazai goes to sit down while they're talking (he's a little off balance too and just needs to sit because his vision is darkening) Chuuya quickly puts the pieces together when he sees the lines connecting to the machines run red for a bit then turn clear. The planned happy ending is that Chuuya smashes the window and rips Dazai free from the machines

#asks #wip ask game #ask game #thank you!!!!! i love this concept already so much but i have so little time and only two hands #more suffering yay #tw: blood #tw: human experimentation

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letthewhumpbegin · 3 months ago

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75 Hours - a Hawaii Five-0 fanfiction

Fandom: Hawaii Five-0 (2010) Characters: Steve McGarrett, Danny Williams Prompt: this was written for day 14 of @whumptober, prompt: Left for dead. Word count: 2162 Warnings: contains descriptions of injury, blood, wounds, medical procedures. Implied torture.

A/N: I might be tempted to write a second chapter to this at some point. Let me know if you would be interested in that 😇😁

73 hours and 14 minutes. That was how long Steve had been missing, presumed abducted by a kartel they had been investigating, and it had been the longest hours of Danny's life. He hadn't slept, apart from a few naps where he had just fallen asleep, exhausted, at his desk whilst going over leads that would hopefully bring them to Steve.

Danny worried for Steve. If they found him, what state would he be in? Would he even still be alive? This kartel wasn't exactly known for being kind to the ones they kept prisoner, or for releasing them alive in that matter.

73 hours and 20 minutes. Danny slammed the file on the kartel shut. Too many horrible images of how they had found other abductees of them over the years. He simply refused to accept that something like this could happen to Steve, but he found it more and more difficult to eradicate those thoughts from his mind. Every minute that passed without them finding him, meant one minute of Steve getting closer to some horrible death. And Danny already believed that the past three days had been anything but pleasant for Steve.

73 hours and 37 minutes. Commotion, lots of commotion around the station. Why? Had someone finally gotten a useful lead?

"What's going on?" Danny immediately asked as Chin poked his head around the door of his office. "It looks like we’ve found them." Chin had a worried look on his face, though. Danny jumped to his feet, still. "You don't sound hopeful?" Chin shook his head. "There apparently has been much suspicious activity at this abandoned plant, but all of that stopped abruptly this morning according to our witness." "Oh…" Danny felt all his hopes sink into his shoes. He knew what that could mean…

73 hours and 58 minutes. Chin was behind the wheel of the car that now sped down a dirt road, leading up to an old logging plant which had gone out of business several years ago. It was a desolate area, not common for passersby, and otherwise abandoned. Ideal for keeping prisoners and doing shady business, Danny thought.

Danny pushed away his doubts over the witness that had sent them down this trail. Because, how had this anonymous witness come to know about this? And why had they only decided to report this now that all activity had stopped? For now, Danny chose to conveniently forget about those doubts, and clung to the hope that they would find Steve. He didn't even care anymore whether it was unscathed or not, if they just found him.

74 hours and 5 minutes. Danny jumped out of the car even before it had come to a full stop. He was followed by Chin, Kono and every SWAT agent and police officer that was available. "Steve!" Danny didn't even care anymore if there still were kartel members here, he just needed to find Steve.

Danny burst into the warehouse of the logging plant. It was a large facility, with many places to hide illegal produce, any prisoners they might have… and dead bodies.

Where most of the other law enforcement members focused on the lower levels, Danny trotted up the stairs to the first floor offices, taking three steps at a time. Immediately, he had a bad feeling about this. Something about a discarded set of daggers lying around, spent shell casings all over the floor, and array of suspiciously stained leather belts, confirmed all his worst fears.

"Steve?" Danny's voice broke over his friend's name. His attention was drawn to a door, slightly ajar, at the end of a short corridor. An ominous foreboding settled in Danny's chest.

Danny approached cautiously, weapon drawn, and slowly pushed the door open. All the windows in what appeared to be an office space were boarded up, leaving no way for daylight to come in. But Danny had no trouble seeing what he had feared to see all during the past three days…

74 hours and 15 minutes. "No…" Danny fell to his knees in the doorway. He didn't mean to do it, but his legs would not support him any longer. All hope seemed lost at the sight in front of him. Because, there, in the middle of the room, lay Steve. Left by the kartel, broken, beaten, wounded, and dead or soon to die.

Steve lay on his side. His torso was bare and the many wounds were clearly visible. His back was bloody with something that looked like whip marks, his arms were littered with cigarette burns, and his chest was covered in lacerations of various depths. A stabwound to his side had caused a pool of blood to form around him.

Danny crawled over to Steve. "No, no, no…" He stammered under his breath. This could not be happening, not after all their effort to find him, Danny could not accept that Steve was dead. The kartel had most likely tried everything to get information out of Steve. And whether he had finally given it up or if the torture had rendered him too severely injured, he had ultimately been left for dead.

Finally, Danny could reach Steve. He reached out a hand for his friend's shoulder. The skin was still somewhat warm to the touch. Danny pressed his fingers against Steve's neck to feel for a pulse. Everything inside him wished to feel the thumping of Steve's heartbeat, but he knew the chances were slim for that.

Thump…. Thump…. Thump….

"Wh–?" Danny lifted his fingers and pressed them to Steve's neck again.

Thump… Thump…. Thump….

"Oh, my god." The heartbeat he felt was only shallow and way too fast, but it was there. Or was it? Or did he only feel it because that was what he wished for so badly? Danny moved his hand gently to the middle of Steve's chest. He tried to ignore the fact that his hands were getting stained with Steve’s blood as he felt for a breath, or how he could feel the wounds to Steve’s chest beneath his fingers.

But there it was…. Only feebly, but Steve’s chest rose just enough against Danny’s flat hand for him to feel it. Danny released something that held the middle between a sob and a cry in relief. Steve was alive! It might only be just, but he was alive. Danny swallowed to find his voice back, before he bellowed from the top of his lungs.

"I FOUND HIM! HE’S ALIVE!"

74 hours and 17 minutes. Steve stirred slightly at the sudden volume of Danny’s voice. He groaned weakly, whimpering against the pain that immediately came back along with the limited amount of consciousness.

"Don't move." Danny soothed. "We're getting you out, just don’t move." "...D–Danny…" Steve whimpered his friend's name. It wasn't much, but to Danny it was the loudest cry for help he'd ever heard from Steve. "It's me, buddy," he eased, "I'm here." Steve moved his hand ever so slightly, but Danny understood the question. He slipped his hand into Steve's and held it to let Steve know he was there with him.

Now that there was some form of consciousness to him, Steve's breaths sounded ragged, laced with pain and distress. "Hey." Danny gave Steve's hand a soft squeeze. "Calm down, help is on the way." Steve opened his eyes just enough to look at Danny sitting next to him. His gaze was glassy and unfocused, but Danny was still glad to see it. Steve's fingers powerlessly curled around Danny's hand, as a shuddering, whimpered breath rolled off his lips.

"Easy." Danny tried to keep himself calm as well. It was scary to see how bad Steve's condition was, and help needed to come quickly now. "...cold…so cold…" The words hardly made sense as Steve was almost too weak to speak. "Cold, right, I can do something about that." Danny looked around at anything that he could possibly use to cover Steve with and keep him warm.

Apart from a few damaged and empty filing cabinets and a broken desk, nothing else was in the room. Danny remembered seeing a larger office at the beginning of the corridor as he came upstairs, but that meant he would have to leave Steve for a moment, and he wasn't going to do that.

74 hours and 20 minutes. "Danny?!" Chin's voice sounded along with hurried footsteps up the stairs. "In here!" Danny called out. Chin's arrival came at the perfect time. "See if you can find a blanket or a jacket."

There were some rummaging sounds, but finally Chin stepped into the room. "Oh, no…" His face fell at the sight in front of him. "Is he…?" "He’s alive," Danny answered, "but we need to get him to a hospital now." Chin swallowed back the apparent lump in his throat. "The paramedics were a few minutes behind us, they should be here by now. I’ll bring them up here." Chin handed Danny the jacket he had found in the other office space, before storming back down the stairs to fetch the paramedics.

Danny turned his attention back to Steve. He momentarily took his hand out of Steve’s limp grip to drape the jacket over his friend. Steve groaned weakly in discomfort as even the slightest touch hurt him. "I’m sorry," Danny mumbled, "I know it hurts." Steve’s eyes fluttered. His breathing was laboured and uneven, and he had started shivering all over.

Danny couldn’t do much else than watch his friend deteriorate in front of his eyes and wait for medical help to arrive. "Easy, buddy." Danny gently held Steve’s hand again. "... Danny…" Steve groaned weakly. "I’m here," Danny soothed, "hold on, you’ve got to hold on. You’re not leaving me to fight the criminal population of Hawaii all by myself. You hear me? That’s not going to happen."

Danny wasn’t sure anymore who he was trying to calm down most: Steve or himself. It scared him shitless to see how weak Steve was, and how close he was to losing him altogether.

74 hours and 25 minutes. The sudden sound of multiple running footsteps up the stairs announced the arrival of the paramedics. "In here!" Danny called out again, even though he knew Chin was leading the way.

Things happened in a flurry after that. Paramedics gently shoved Danny away and he had no other choice than to let go of Steve. Danny could only watch as the paramedics worked. They inserted an IV-line, hooked Steve up to a heart monitor and applied an oxygen mask. All their faces were very serious, and Danny was once again confronted with how dire this situation was.

Somewhere in the past minutes, Steve had passed out again. He was completely unresponsive and limp as the paramedics worked to get him stabilised enough to be transported. And maybe it was for the best, because everything would undoubtedly hurt his wounds unbelievably much.

Danny watched from a little distance, nervously fidgeting his hands together. "Come on, Steve," he mumbled under his breath, "don’t give up now. You can’t leave me like this." He followed every move the paramedics made and listened minutely to every beep of the heart monitor. As long as they continued and the beeps held some sort of rhythm, it meant Steve was still there.

Finally, after what felt like hours, Steve was loaded onto a gurney. "We need one of you to accompany us to the hospital." One of the paramedics turned to Danny and Chin. Danny exchanged a glance with Chin, but both of them already knew who that was going to be. "That’ll be me," Danny spoke up. The paramedic nodded. "We’ll be leaving right away."

The team of paramedics wheeled Steve out of the room. Danny blew out a deep breath. This wasn’t over yet, not even close, but at least Steve was now getting the help he so desperately needed. "Keep me posted, will you?" Chin asked before Danny could leave. "Yeah, of course." Danny nodded wearily. "I’ll call you as soon as I know more."

Danny sprinted out of the room and hurried down the stairs two steps at a time. The paramedics were already loading Steve into the ambulance, and Danny climbed in shortly after them. The sound of the ambulance doors slamming shut and the siren turning on were a strange kind of blessing to him.

Out of habit, as he had done so many times in the past days, Danny checked his watch.

75 hours. The kartel might have left Steve for dead, after putting him through all kinds of torture, but he wasn’t going to die. Danny would make damn sure of that. Steve was now being taken to the best medical care Hawaii had to offer, and Danny would be there every step of the way. Right until the moment Steve would open his eyes again, and Danny would be certain he was going to be alright.

Writing masterlist

Author's note: this fic will get posted onto my AO3 and FF.net account as well in the coming weeks.

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decks-writing-blog · 9 months ago

Text

Whatever the Fuck Benrey is: Chapter Twenty: Caring For Him Has Downsides

Chapter One

Previous Chapter

“Wow, we used to kinda be like neighbors, huh?” Gordon said as they stopped at the door leading to the lab Benrey’s handlers had been set up in. “Or not neighbors, I guess but… I used to work a bit further down there.” He gestured down the hall they’d been heading down. “How come I never saw you around before the test?”

Benrey had rarely spent much time here outside of when his handlers wanted him for something and had always left as soon as they were done. This part of the facility was boring and his handlers had been annoying, why would he want to spend more time than needed near them and their dumb lab? And… “A lot of people from around here knew me so they wouldn’t’ve been as much fun to stop for their passports and stuff. So I didn’t hang out around here.” The team assigned to him had been relatively small so maybe it wasn’t quite ‘a lot’ but they had shown him off to their friends occasionally before he’d started actively resisting such annoyance. “But I heard there was a big experiment thingy going on over there and I wanted to disrupt it a bit before heading out to get Heavenly Sword.”

“I don’t think any of us are surprised,” Bubby said at the time as Gordon said, “Figures.”

“Well you chose the perfect test to disrupt,” Coomer said, “because look at you now! Free at last and about to start a happily ever after with Gordon. Let’s continue, shall we?” He turned to the door and jiggled the handle. “It’s locked.” Stepping aside from it, he gestured for Benrey to proceed.

They’d run into several locked doors during this little trip. Benrey had phased through them all to unlock from the other side, letting the others through. Each one had reminded him to dread this moment a little more. Not that it really mattered, he didn’t care that much if they knew he had a weakness but… it would still be nice if no one ever knew. That wasn’t happening though and this was one of the benefits to bringing them along since… “I can’t phase through it.”

All four of them turned to look at him. He didn’t flinch or cringe under their collective gazes though because he didn’t care, it was fine. Not a problem at all. He was mostly bored with these proceedings.

“There’s something you can’t phase through?” Tommy asked.

“Uh… yep. Just got done saying that.”

“What is it exactly?” Gordon asked. “Is it like a certain material you can’t phase through or like a device or something inside that somehow blocks you? … If you don’t mind sharing anyway.”

Of course he’d want to know; he wanted to know everything. Benrey was a scientific marvel and he was a scientist after all, what else could one expect? If he knew how to contain Benrey would he want to try it? … Almost certainly no, right now anyway. After going through Benrey’s files though and thus needing to study him directly to learn anything more, he might be tempted to. Which Benrey hadn’t been thinking about when agreeing to let him look. It would be a good reason not to, especially since he’d been given leave to change his mind. But he needed to know if Gordon cared about him more as a scientific marvel or a person. Benrey would give him what he wanted and then see if he would push, poke, and experiment to find out more or when Benrey asked him not to, if he’d listen.

It was important. Gordon was making him feel too many emotions for Benrey to not need an answer. It would suck and maybe even… hurt if he didn’t listen and would perhaps end in Benrey losing his freedom. But he could hope Gordon would listen to him, right? That was a reasonable thing to hope for… maybe.

Before the silence could become awkward… “It’s uh… kinda like plexi-glass but tinted orange. I don’t know what it is, only that I can’t go through it and they paneled the room with it. Real lame.”

“I suppose I’ll have to bust it down then,” Coomer said as he turned back to face the door and placed his flashlight off to the side, pointing at it. “Stand back everyone.”

As everyone stepped back to give him more room, Coomer took a stepped towards the door, cracked his knuckles and rolled up his sleeves, revealing his mechanical arms. Maybe now that Black Mesa was back doing stuff, Gordon could get something like that to replace his hand. If he was willing to get the gun hand chopped off though which seemed to be a problem. Probably a weird trauma thing related to it having been chopped off in the first place.

Coomer squared up to the door as if he were about to box it. Which is about what he did as one of his fists shot out, slamming into and then through the door with a crunch of breaking wood. The barrier of not plexi-glass stopped it but not without a cracking sound. His second punch hit the same spot and then the third burst through.

“Victory!” he announced for himself as he pulled back to lift his fists in a victory pose. Bubby started clapping, quickly followed by Tommy and then Benrey. Sleep deprived Gordon was the slowest at picking it up but after fumbling a bit, clapped his hand to his forearm, adding to the applause as it petered out.

Stepping forward, Coomer stuck an arm through the hole he’d made, putting himself in up to this shoulder. A few seconds later the door’s lock click as he evidently found it. After pulling his arm out, he turned the knob and pushed the door open, revealing the lab. “Lead the way.” He gestured for Benrey to go in again.

Having been in there many times before, Benrey had no problems doing so and thus went in without hesitation. Maybe he should tell the others to stay out. … Nah, it didn’t matter. It was fine.

Inside was dark of course but with five flashlights, there soon wasn’t much that couldn’t be seen. Panels of the barrier, all over the walls doors and ceiling, only small gaps between so Benrey, even at his smallest couldn’t fit through, reflected some of the light as well. Making the room almost well lit. It was clean too; if his handlers had been killed it hadn’t been in here. Which wasn’t surprising as in addition to him they’d had other projects they’d been working on too and the test thing had been a big deal, drawing many folk over to watch.

“Was all this to keep you in or out?” Tommy asked, shining his light up at the ceiling which was also covered in the orange tinted barrier stuff.

Before Benrey could answer, Bubby did it for him. “Probably both.”

“Uh… yeah, both. I got in once when I wasn’t supposed to and then they fortified it a whole bunch ‘cause they’re super lame.”

Gordon strode further in to pan his light over the back of the room where the various thingies used to test Benrey or draw his blood were located. “Jesus fucking Christ.” Apparently even sleep deprived he still wanted to be weird. Which was a good sign. As annoying as it was, it meant he cared and even if he did end up viewing Benrey more as a scientific marvel than a person, he’d likely still be nice about it. “This stuff is…”

“It’s boring and lame and sucks,” Benrey interrupted, not even bothering to look over at whatever exactly Gordon was looking at because he didn’t care. “Don’t feel bad for me.” He didn’t need pity when he couldn’t be physically harmed in any way that mattered and only felt emotional pain from people he cared about which hadn’t been any of his handlers.

“Nah, feel bad for him,” Bubby cut in again. “Black Mesa sucks. We should gather up as much stuff outta here as we can and destroy the rest.”

“Good idea, Bubby!” Coomer said as he turned to start prying one of the barrier panels off the wall. Bringing it with them, especially so much of it, was a less than fun idea but… theoretically, it’d be worse in the hands of the other Black Mesa members.

So, leaving him to it while the others set to their own self appointed tasks, Benrey turned to the computers. They main thing they were here for. All his data stuff was logged onto them and a lot of it backed up on the flash drives in the desk drawers. Before he could start unplugging and moving things though, Gordon slid up to him.

“You okay?” he whispered.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Just… it’s a lot… or seems like it should be.” More of him projecting; he found it upsetting so he was assuming Benrey would too. He was wrong of course, Benrey didn’t care beyond it being lame and boring but it wasn’t tragic. He was perfectly fine and didn’t need to be pitied and viewed as a sad little whatever the fuck.

Benrey pulled out two of the desk drawers. “We’re here for a reason so uh… hop to it. You should be able to handle grabbing stuff from drawers, right?” He was one handed and sleep deprived but not useless.

Gordon sighed. “Yeah, okay.”

Everything they couldn’t bring with them they destroyed. Naturally Coomer did most of the destruction with his mechanical arms and legs. Gordon’s gun hand helped too though, largely as a just in case disguise for why everything was destroyed; bullet holes in stuff and in the walls would make it look like proper violence had occurred. No one should suspect a thing.

There was satisfaction in watching the place get stripped and then utterly ruined. Most of the experimentation had been done on Benrey when he’d been younger, before his handlers found out everything he could do and the extent of it. Also before he’d developed much of a will to push back against it even if that meant just being difficult about it. But even once all that had slowed down, giving Benrey more time to wander around the facility or hunker down in his gamer pad to play video games, coming here had never been fun. This room in particular sucked, it deserved to be destroyed. If it wasn’t made of concrete, he would’ve asked Bubby to burn it down.

By the time they were finally done, the salvage wagon was full. They’d collected some of that on the way here but most of it was from Benrey’s handlers’ lab. All of which would be going home with him and Gordon. Meaning, to the rest of Black Mesa, their salvage operation was going to look like a failure.

“You guys gonna get in trouble for bringing so little back to the lab?” Benrey asked as they started back the way they’d come.

Tommy replied with, “We could just tell them that uh… our trauma from our first adventure made it hard so we didn’t venture far or find much. And then um, that also gives us a reason to not want to come again even after volunteering for this.”

“You could just blame Gordon,” Bubby said. “Tell the boss he fucked up again.”

“What do mean, again?” As proof of his exhaustion, Gordon barely sounded like he cared.

“I just mean, again. You saying you never fucked up before? I don’t believe that for a second, especially since the reason you’re here is a big fuck up.”

“Whatever just… we go with what Tommy said. Or um… if you guys wanna come back for whatever reason, just say it’s me who was too traumatized for this ‘cause that’s not untrue. Don’t word it like I’m the only one who fucked up though, please. I’d rather keep my new position.”

“Don’t worry, Gordon,” Coomer said, “we won’t throw you under the bus without good reason. I do believe though that I will return here on my own later or perhaps with Bubby to retrieve my stuff and his too if he would like to make sure it doesn’t end up in Black Mesa’s hands again. If you weren’t here, I’d suggest we go do it after dropping our current stuff off in the car. But we won’t make you do that or wait for us. So we will have to come back later.”

“Ugh, sorry for being a burden.”

“Apology accepted!”

From there the conversation drifted to other things, occasionally petering out for a bit before someone revived it. Gordon didn’t participate much. Benrey tried to prod him into it but it never lasted long. Whether he was having another quiet freak out or was just exhausted was hard to tell. Probably the latter but… that was worrying in its own way. He could die if he didn’t sleep for long enough.

Maybe Benrey should be upset with him enough to not be as bothered by that thought. If Gordon ended up viewing him more of a science experiment than a person after seeing all his science stuff, then it would be less of a loss, right? But even if that would be the case, heck, even if that was how he viewed Benrey right now, Benrey still liked him and was responsible for him as a pet owner. His death wouldn’t be easy to just go along with. And so when they eventually pulled to a stop to rest and eat…

“Maybe we should sleep here for a bit,” Benrey suggested.

“No,” Gordon interrupted before he could say more. “I think we should just keep going until we’re out, no nap or sleep break. I know none of you guys really need one, don’t try to pretend like you do. This place sucks. I want out.”

“Are you sure, Mr. Freeman?” Tommy asked. “I mean um… you didn’t sleep much last night, did you?”

“I’m fine.”

Benrey wasn’t letting him get away with that lie. “He’d didn’t sleep at all. Or he tried not to. He fell asleep anyway ‘cause uh… humans are like that. It was maybe an hour before I had to wake him from a nightmare.” The whole having to sleep every night thing had to suck in general but even more so when plagued by nightmares.

“Yeah, yeah but… I hate it here. I want out. I’ll be fine that long.”

Coomer spoke up next. “Gordon, for two Play Coinstm I’ll carry you the rest of the way out and you can nap in my arms.”

“No thanks. Let’s go.” He grabbed his flashlight, stood, shoved his gun arm back into the cart’s handle and started walking again. Everyone ultimately followed, even Benrey.

“I’ll be fine,” he repeated as Benrey fell into step with him. “I just want out of here. Let me have this.”

Benrey shouldn’t have agreed to helping him stay up last night. … Or maybe it had been the right move. He’d had nightmares before, they sucked. Maybe it was worth it to skip sleep for Gordon even if he could die of not enough sleep. Perhaps nightmares could kill humans too, they were awfully weak after all. And so he bit back on insisting on anything for now.

Their pace, dictated by Gordon, slowed more and more over time. Bubby complained but stayed close as Gordon had requested anyway. Another short rest to eat didn’t help much.

“Benrey, I need to slap me,” he eventually said.

“Uh… why?”

“Just do it.”

Who was Benrey to deny such a request? No one had ever asked him to slap them before so why Gordon wanted him to didn’t matter as much as the novelty of it. He switched to backpedaling in front of Gordon, giving him the perfect angle to lift a hand and slap him across the face.

“Wait…” he began a split second before it connected, snapping his head to the side. “Ow. What the fuck?”

Bubby laughed as they all stopped to turn and look. “You literally asked him to. What were you expecting?”

“I uh… don’t know. Just, I didn’t think he’d be so willing.”

“Why would you ask if you thought I wouldn’t do it? That’s dumb.” This didn’t seem to be a human thing but just a Gordon thing. It was silly.

“Yeah, guess you got a point, huh? But uh… I think it helped a little so thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” How that could’ve possibly helped with anything was beyond Benrey’s understanding but it had been kind of fun.

“You know, Gordon,” Coomer said, “if you wanted him to help wake you up, you could’ve asked him to sing you some sweet voice. You seem particularly sensitive to it so a colour that provides an energizing feeling might help.”

“Damn, you’re right. I’m an idiot.” Gordon turned his gaze back onto Benrey. “Do you think you could uh… do the opposite of your blue calm down one?”

“Ooh, I recommend orange,” Tommy chimed in.

Somehow this hadn’t occurred to Benrey before either. In his defense he rarely had cause to try to make anyone excited with orange. And it wouldn’t cure his sleeplessness but it should indeed energize him. So, taking a deep breath, Benrey looked up at Gordon and sang him a long string of bright orange.

Like the blue as soon as he breathed it in, he took a deep breath of it to draw in even more. His eyes widened as the slump in his shoulders lessened. As the tone ended, he stepped back and shook himself out a little. “Wow.”

“What’d it taste like?” Bubby asked.

“Like orange, not the fruit but the artificial orange flavor you find in candy or I guess orange flavored soda. By the way, why does it taste like candy? Like, there’s no way that’s an accident. There’s gotta be a reason they made it like that, right?

“Maybe uh… maybe Darnold helped make it,” Tommy suggested. “He does stuff with flavors so maybe that’s his influence. We can ask him when we get back. For now though, are you feeling better?”

“Uh, yeah, actually. Not like a hundred percent but better for sure. Thanks again, Benrey, you’re amazing. Let’s uh… keep going, huh?”

Their journey continued. Now every so often, without even pausing, Benrey sang more orange for Gordon. It always seemed to help and that was a comfort at first but… what if it made it worse in the end? The sweet voice wasn’t giving him any energy, it was just boosting his mood, making his body produce more energy. Not a human himself, the equation on that wasn’t something Benrey was intimately familiar with, but it didn’t add up to anything that seemed good. Surely it could only increase his overall exhaustion.

Benrey kept doing it though, every time he was asked. This was the place that was the source of Gordon’s nightmares so of course he wanted out as soon as possible and it would be good for him to be out. Even as the further they trudged onward, the more often Benrey had to boost him, he kept doing it. Not stopping for Gordon to sleep should result in them getting back out sooner so it would hopefully be fine in the end.

Eventually Bubby starting to visibly flag too, all the effort he’d expended clearing the room shit had gone down in finally catching up to him in a way he couldn’t hide anymore. He denied it when Coomer brought it but it was obvious even to Benrey. They kept going though because the rest of them were fine.

But even going at a slower pace, not stopping for more than a few minutes meant they did finally reach the living area again. Upon Benrey pointing this out to him, Gordon perked up a little more, picking up the pace. And thus they were soon on the elevator headed to the surface.

Upon stepping outside, it was night time, deep into it. All the way out here, far from civilization and its light pollution, that meant it was dark. The moon and stars overhead was the only thing making it less dark than the facility.

Gordon paused as he stepped out after Benrey, tilting his head up towards the sky. “Gosh, fuck, it’s beautiful.”

Benrey looked up too and… he was right. The moon and endless vastness of the stars were quite lovely out here. Not a fan of the desert night air, Benrey had never gone out in it often to see this sight. … He should’ve brought his camera. Oh well, it’s not like a picture could do it justice anyway.

“Come on,” he said as he started for the car, gesturing for the others to follow. “Let’s go home.” It was even colder out here than it had been down below. He wanted out of it and Gordon needed sleep.

Having taken the lead, Benrey reached the car first. He phased through it to reach the trunk button, making it pop open in time for the rest of the crew to reach it. Starting the car to get the heater running would’ve been nice too but Bubby had the keys. … He was going to have to learn how to hot wire a car one day, probably after he learned how to drive one. Maybe Gordon would teach him… assuming he still liked Benrey after seeing all his stuff.

“Gordon, Bubby,” Coomer said as Benrey rejoined the group, “you two go ahead and hop in. I’ll handle loading everything and then, Bubby, dear, if you are agreeable, I’ll drive us home as well.”

Bubby sighed as he dug into his pocket and pulled out the car keys. “Sure.” He handed them over to Coomer without hesitation, before dropping his pack to the ground and starting for the passenger seat. Wow, he must be pretty tired too then.

Upon freeing his gun hand from the wagon’s handle, Gordon followed suit, heading for the backseats. With nothing else to do and trusting Coomer and Tommy to handle packing everything, Benrey joined him. Despite being the first one in, Gordon placed himself in the middle seat. Even if he was going to sleep the whole way back, the sacrifice was still admirable.

He leaned in to whisper as Benrey settled in next to him. “You mind if I uh… lean on you a bit?”

“Go for it.” Benrey preferred it actually. It was cold and Gordon was warm.

“Thanks.” Gordon slouched as much as the backseat would let him before leaning into Benrey, resting his head on his shoulder. Benrey put that arm around him pulling him a bit closer.

“So,” Bubby looked back at them, “are you two fucking?”

“No,” Gordon replied, not looking up at him.

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t even like fucking so, yes, I’m sure.”

“Ah, I see. I was going to ask you later what Benrey’s like in bed but I suppose I don’t need to know that anyway. But are you dating?”

Gordon groaned. “Please shut up.”

Bubby turned his gaze onto Benrey. “You two dating?”

“Uh… no,” Benrey replied over another annoyed groan from Gordon.

“Damn, I thought I was onto something.”

“Why do you think we’re dating?” With how bad Gordon’s attempted explanation of romance had been, Benrey still wasn’t sure why anyone might think they were romantically involved.

“This whole… this.” Bubby lifted a hand to gesture vaguely at them. “He used to hate you and now he’s all over you. It’s cute, don’t get me wrong. I’m not judging. In fact, I’m rooting for you. Romance is uh… nice.” His face grew a little redder before he looked away. “When you figure it out, let me know.”

Benrey would’ve asked him to elaborate since he apparently knew stuff about it. With Gordon right here though, it didn’t feel right. But while being called cute wasn’t ideal, if Gordon being ��all over him’ was a romance thing maybe Benrey wanted that because he liked this. He wanted to date Gordon? … Maybe. It was a tough question to consider when the question of how he’d view Benrey after seeing his records still hung in the air. After that question got answered, he’d return to the thought of dating.

Before the conversation could drift to something else or even resume, Coomer and Tommy were climbing into the car. And then from there they were finally off, headed home. Unsurprisingly, it wasn’t long after that that Gordon fell asleep, slumping even more into Benrey’s side as he did so. Meaning, Benrey wasn’t allowed to move him enough to risk waking him. Not that he’d been planning to anyway.

Naturally upon finally reaching Tuefort, their first stop was Gordon and Benrey’s house. As Coomer rolled the car into the driveway, Benrey saved and turned the Game Boy off before putting it his his jacket pocket. He was stuck now though as there was no way he could move Gordon out of the car and into the house without waking him so…

“You guys can walk home, right? ‘Cause I can’t move him. It’s not allowed.”

“Why not?” Tommy asked.

“He’s my pet and you’re not allowed to wake pets when they fall asleep on you unless uh… he has a nightmare. Those are worse.” Or at least Benrey was pretty sure they were. Maybe he’d been doing it wrong. Probably not though, Gordon always seemed grateful. It was also possible he’d been doing it wrong whenever he moved away from Gordon after having him fall asleep on him but he couldn’t just sit around all night every night. And moving away never woke him the way moving him probably would.

“Oh uh… that’s… I didn’t know you guys were into that. I don’t think I needed to know either but…”

“They’re not,” Bubby interrupted, “or at least I’m pretty it’s not what you’re thinking. It’s just Benrey being weird.”

“It’s not weird. I’m responsible for him. I help keep him alive, try to make sure he doesn’t do bad things and uh… stuff like that.” Like make sure he went to bed and helped him sleep. “That makes him my pet, right? And Tommy, when Sunkist falls asleep on you, you always say you’re not allowed to do anything that might wake her so… I’m stuck.”

“I guess that makes sense… sort of.”

“It’s close enough,” Coomer said. “And so since you can’t wake him, I will.” He pressed on the car horn. It wasn’t as loud as the one in Bubby car but that didn’t mean it wasn’t loud.

Gordon didn’t jerk awake this time. Instead he groaned and pressed his face into Benrey’s neck. “Make it stop.”

Coomer let up on the horn. “Hello Gordon! It’s time to wake up! We have arrived at your house and had to wake you because you would’ve woken up if we dragged you out of the car anyway.”

Gordon sat up but he did groan about it again, louder this time. Benrey pulled his glasses out of the pocket he’d put them in after they’d fallen off his face a while ago and handed them to him. “All right, okay, fine. Thanks for not just dragging me, I guess.”

With that they were soon all out of the car. Coomer again volunteered to do most of the heavy lifting when it came to moving all the stuff from the lab into the house. Gordon offered to help but Benrey sent him off to shower – being clean seemed to be important for humans’ health, how exactly Benrey couldn’t tell but having one as a pet didn’t mean he had to know the why’s and how’s of everything – and to get ready for bed instead. The sun would start to rise in a few hours but he needed sleep.

Benrey and Tommy helped moved things. And under Benrey’s instruction, they put it all in the gamer pad, even the barrier panels. It made the room much less cozy and more crowded but that’s where the computer was so that’s where they were going to look at it anyway so best to have all of it all in one spot. Hopefully things would go well and they could put most of it in the basement instead.

By the time they were done and were on there way out, Gordon had stepped out of the shower. Just in time to wish the others a, “Good night,” before resuming his bedtime preparations. Since Gordon seemed to like it when he was clean, Benrey changed clothes too. Pajamas were soft anyway. He wouldn’t have objected to a full hot shower too but didn’t want to bother.

“I really shouldn’t go to bed with my hair damp,” Gordon said as he got into bed anyway.

“Eh, it’ll be fine.” Benrey turned off the light and joined him.

“God, it’s good to be home.” Gordon pulled him close, curling into him to rest his head on Benrey’s chest.

“You shouldn’t have ever left.” Not to go to the facility anyway.

“I know. Sorry again for… you know. Thanks for not being mad.”

Benrey didn’t bother responding as the lightly pet his fingers through Gordon’s damp hair. They’d been doing this for a long while now. Snuggling up to each other like this and in any way they felt like was comfortably familiar but it was still wonderful. Despite that… Benrey didn’t feel like purring right now. The anxiety of what would happen when they looked at his records tomorrow was too much.

He should be pissed at Gordon for making him feel like this. Making him care enough to be anxious not just for his health and safety but also at the thought of losing him in a different way too. It sucked and wasn’t fair. Things had been much easier when the only other person he’d really cared about was Tommy. Back then, they hadn’t been particularly close, just pals who hung out and talked sometimes. Losing him to death or just his friendship would’ve been a bummer, more so than Benrey’s occasional guard pal, but he would’ve still gotten over it without too much issue.

Now though, Tommy was a good friend and Benrey cared about him enough that losing him would be an issue. The same held true with Bubby and even Coomer. And then there was however the fuck he felt about Gordon. He wasn’t supposed to be so attached to any of them but Gordon was a whole other thing entirely. It was often nice and fun; Gordon was warm and wonderful to hang out, snuggle, and mess with. But he also had to go and be weird, stupid, and fragile, making caring for him have downsides that were super fucking lame.

Feeling anxious for Gordon’s safety and now over him possibly seeing Benrey more as scientific marvel than a friend sucked. And that was in addition to him having made Benrey care about what he was when it didn’t matter. Despite all that though, Benrey didn’t want to move. He wanted to keep holding Gordon to help make sure he had good sleep without nightmares. To sleep in his arms in turn because he was tired too. An emotional tired that shouldn’t have been possible – how could just feeling things, even if they were intense emotions, make one need sleep? – but was for sure a thing. And so, confusingly, he wasn’t upset enough to make leaving appealing and thus would stay here, cuddling Gordon for however long they both wanted to.

Next Chapter

#hlvrai #frenrey #benrey #hlvrai gordon

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dr-futbol-blog · 3 months ago

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Trinity, Pt. 11

Alone together in the Ancient facility, McKay and Sheppard are preparing to redo the experiment. They are standing with their backs to each other, working on opposite stations. And unlike previously, when Sheppard's task seemed simply to be to watch the power core, because it is now just the two of them, McKay has actually given him something significant to do. And it is not insignificant that this is a task Sheppard seems perfectly suited to do, as he has been observing McKay work for such a long time and with such intensity that he has picked up a thing or two, just like McKay has picked up a thing or two about working on the field.

McKay: OK, this is good. My equations are working like a charm. Power level's at forty percent, just to be on the safe side. I think we're ready for our test. Sheppard: Where do you want the weapon targeted? McKay: The debris orbiting the planet. Sheppard: Sounds good.

McKay appears to be happier, less tense than he was previously and this has more than a little to do with the fact that it very much seemed like Sheppard had just chosen him over Weir. It had been not being chosen, the feeling of rejection from Sheppard having chosen not to be with him, not to have him in his group when he had split personnel on the field (Runner, Duet), of not being let into his room that had started to accumulate into a feeling of being wholly unwanted by Sheppard. And while this had never been Sheppard's intention, the effect of his choices that had been motivated by keeping McKay safe and which he thought he was doing for McKay's best interests without talking it over with him, without explaining it to him, giving out no indication that he cared about McKay because Sheppard thought that was what he wanted when he had asked for more time, had all led them to a point where McKay felt like he needed to work extra hard to win Sheppard's approval. Like he needed to accomplish something grandiose that he might earn Sheppard's love. And so, Sheppard finally seeming to choose him made McKay feel elated. McKay does not realize that for Sheppard, it was not a choice between him and Weir or anyone on Atlantis. For Sheppard, it had been a choice between protecting McKay and giving him what he desired when the latter so clearly came with a risk. It had been Sheppard's desire to please McKay that had won over his drive to protect him.

Also note that while Sheppard does not actually respond to what McKay is saying, he is still relatively at ease here. Like he told Ronon in the previous episode, he is a worrier. He is especially worried about McKay. But in order to give McKay his support, he is trying very hard not to let that instinct overwhelm him. And he does turn back to look at McKay to see his response, even though he turns away just as soon as he notices that McKay was looking at him while talking to him. Sheppard is likely not wanting McKay to see how concerned and frankly afraid this makes him, and not allowing McKay to see his face at this moment is meant to disguise that fact.

McKay: Bringing the weapon online... now. Sheppard: What's that? McKay: Energy surge, it's fine. I can regulate it. Sheppard: You said you could contain-- McKay: The temperature inside the containment field is well within acceptable parameters.

Now, Teyla had told Ronon that the words spoken were often meaningless. But here we see a clear example of where words make a difference, and that McKay and Sheppard should probably have talked this out using words instead of just assuming that they understood each other perfectly. Sheppard thinks that McKay had said that he can contain the surge where what McKay had said was that "the problem is in the automatic containment protocols" and that his fix is to "adjust the field strength manually". He had also told Sheppard that "a surge like the one that happened before is inconceivable". Finally, he had told Zelenka "As long as I'm monitoring the energy output manually, I can stop that before it happens".

Nowhere did McKay say that he could contain the surge, and his plan seems to have been to manually regulate it from the beginning, essentially doing what Collins had been doing when he died, only McKay was not doing it in the command access tube. It is not that McKay had misled Sheppard, but it seems as though Sheppard had heard what he wanted to hear. Essentially, Sheppard was under the impression McKay was playing a five-card draw where McKay had actually intended for it to be a pretty high stakes Texas hold'em. And as well as the two of them can read each other, this has increasingly been the problem: they both bring their own set of assumptions into their interaction that colour their perceptions, that skew their interpretation of the intentions of the other.

McKay: Staying ahead of it. Levels are rising in the chamber. Reroute power from the secondary systems to the containment field. Sheppard: I'm thinking we need to abort.

Again, if we look at this from hindsight, knowing what we know (McKay manages to blow up five sixths of a solar system and lose access to the technology besides), it is easy to side with Sheppard here, to somehow see his as the morally superior position. But the fact is, they are both coming at it from positions that may be understandable and that we may empathize with but that cannot withstand closer scrutiny. They both think that they are doing the right thing for the right reasons but at the end of the day, both of their motivations are self-serving. Sheppard thinks that he is looking out for McKay when when he is actually driven by his desire not to lose something important to him which ultimately derives from his need for control, his fear of abandonment. McKay thinks that he is doing this for the greater good and the advancement of science, the betterment of mankind, when he is actually driven by his sincere desire to fix his mistakes which ultimately derive from his need for approval, his fear of rejection. Neither is a morally superior position, but not morally inferior either. We can understand both motivations. It is just easier to see Sheppard being in the right because of how everything turns out, even though we hear both of them speak the words "I know what I'm doing" to the other. And they sincerely believe that, too.

It is noticeable that Sheppard says "I'm thinking we need to abort" here, as though his gut is telling him to make that call but he is unsure of whether he should. As a former test pilot, Sheppard has been trained to make fast calls and snap decisions, as the ability to make a call quickly and to stick with it is only thing between life and death in situations that can go south in an instant. We have seen him make such decisions, even big ones, making the decision to sacrifice his own life in the blink of an eye. This is what he is good at, this is what he excels in, and this is what he has been trained to do. And yet here, he is unable to come to a decision. He is unable to make the call. He is unsure as to what to do and this has everything to do with McKay. With anyone else, he would already have made the call to abort. With anyone else, he would not even have undertaken this task. With anyone else, he would have pulled the plug following the first failed attempt and called it a day. It is because his desire to give McKay anything he wants and to keep him safe from everything including himself are clashing here that he is wasting precious seconds trying to convince McKay of something that the other man is simply willing not to be true.

McKay: I can compensate. Just give me a minute. Sheppard: It's overloading, just like last time. McKay: There is no logical reason this shouldn't be working. Sheppard: McKay... McKay: None of this should be happening!

McKay is baffled by why this is happening when the thing that he has trusted his whole life, logic, is failing him. If he cannot expect for the laws of Physics to stay constant, then the Universe truly is both random and chaotic, and everything he has built his adult life on is a delusion. Both McKay and Sheppard, for their own reasons, have a need to control their environment, to control situations they find themselves in, and right here, right now, especially McKay could have used Heightmeyer's advice: "Take deep breaths and stop trying to control everything for a second."

This is also the point where Sheppard stopped looking at the data and turned his attention entirely on McKay. The experiment had ever been but of peripheral interest to Sheppard but his sense of danger was sounding such a loud alarm in his head that he could no longer pretend he was there to assist McKay. He was there to save McKay even if it killed them both.

McKay: Look, the energy levels are spiking at a rate far greater than anything I predicted. Sheppard: Shut it down! McKay: ...Fine.

What is important here is that McKay does what Sheppard tells him to do. Again, this is not precisely an order. Yes, Sheppard is telling McKay what to do but he is not telling him as his superior officer or his team leader. Sheppard is telling McKay to shut it down as a man who is frightened and barking at the person both physically and emotionally closest to him. This is not the tone of voice one uses with a colleague or a subordinate. This is a tone of voice one can only use with family, with someone one knows intimately. And note that McKay whirls around with every intention of arguing, of snapping at Sheppard in the interest of continuing to convince most of all himself that he is in the right. But he only needs to take one look at Sheppard's face, and he relents. McKay does what Sheppard wants, immediately. Because Sheppard does not look angry, he looks scared. He looks lost. His lower lip wobbles. McKay does not want to be the cause of Sheppard feeling like that. That was never his intention. We can tell that it is seeing the look on Sheppard's face that makes McKay relent, to change his mind at once.

McKay: That doesn't make any sense. Sheppard: What's wrong? McKay: I can't shut it down!

Only, it is too late. Perhaps it was always too late, and there never was a means of shutting it down since what is different from their previous attempt is that they had brought the weapon online, which is something they did not have time to do the previous time. Now, this again is not something that McKay could have predicted nor is it his fault. Yes, they could have taken many more precautions but there is no guarantee that the outcome would not have been catastrophically worse if they had waited for the Pentagon to get involved and force Weir's hand into continuing the research. What is significant here is that McKay did as Sheppard wanted with no delay trying to shut it down, and he was unable to do this through no (or rather minimal) fault of his own. As it begins dawning to McKay just how screwed they are, he abandons the data himself like Sheppard had done earlier, turning to look at Sheppard with his full attention. They are both afraid and in need of support from the other.

Sheppard: What was that? McKay: The weapon's discharging to prevent a catastrophic overload. Sheppard: Alright, that's it. We're outta here. McKay: What did I just say?! The weapon's firing at random targets above the planet.

And then, we see them both try to save each other. Like McKay tells Ronon and Teyla in Aurora (S02E09), they have "gotten into this habit of saving each other's lives". While it is much easier to see Sheppard's motivation in coming here to save McKay from himself since it was explicitly mentioned in text, it was never McKay's intention to put Sheppard into jeopardy and while his motivations seem more complex, at the root of it all was the desire to both please Sheppard and to be worthy of his love. And this, here, the facility quaking around them was very far from that goal and McKay is working feverishly to try to find some way of getting them out of there. They have the same goal. Also note the fact that while McKay is working, he should be focusing entirely on what he is doing, he is still taking the time to explain it to Sheppard like he has gotten used to doing.

McKay: This is the safest place to be right now! Sheppard: The place isn't gonna be safe for very much longer! McKay: I can bring it back under control! Just give me a second! Sheppard: No you can't!

So, we cannot say that Sheppard is precisely overreacting here given that the facility seems to be falling apart around them and given that we have seen him be overprotective of McKay at least ever since The Storm (S01E10) if not even earlier. His worry over McKay's safety is completely overriding his reason here. He is not thinking rationally, he is acting on instinct. As mentioned, Sheppard had come here with the intention of saving McKay if it killed them both and here, as he grabs McKay, he is fully intending on dragging him out by force if need be. It is entirely possible McKay never could have done what he is attempting to do here. But given what Sheppard has witnessed him do in the past, based on precedent he probably should have given McKay a chance to get it back. Sheppard does not know that McKay could never have done it, and we have previously seen him have such faith in McKay's abilities as to believe that he can do anything. But Sheppard is not reasonable here. No part of him is running on reason.

To his credit, Sheppard lets McKay go just as soon as he tries to twist away from him, as he has no desire to hurt McKay (and we do see him hurt other people when his emotions run roughshod over his reason, like Keller in Search and Rescue, S05E01 and the replicator woman in Outcast, S04E15. Given that we were also introduced to Sheppard's ex-wife in the latter episode, it also invites us to wonder whether there had been more than his dishonesty and him not wanting to be at home with her that made him "not very good" at marriage). Were it anyone else, Sheppard probably would not have let go as easily. It does not even seem like Sheppard was grabbing him or his clothing, he merely turned McKay around to face him, to look at him. Everything that Sheppard is doing here, he is doing out of love.

Because this scene follows immediately from the scene in which Teyla rounds up on Ronon, throws him against the wall and puts her blade at his throat, we are also meant to contrast them. There is enough similarity in the intensity with which both Teyla and Sheppard approach Ronon and McKay, and they both try to impress their will on them through physical action. Where Teyla threatens Ronon, Sheppard merely wants McKay's attention, but they are both demanding that the other person focus on them on this moment, when they have something important to say. But what they tell them is almost the opposite.

Teyla tells Ronon that if he repeats his action, she will make him pay for it. Sheppard tells McKay that he has to cease his current action because he loves him and does not want to lose him. That is the subtext. And since Teyla explicitly tells Ronon "If you ever use my friendship in such a way again" just before this scene, just before we see Sheppard round up on McKay, we are better able to conclude that what happens between them is not the same. There is no abuse of friendship going on in the Ancient facility. On the contrary, we see Sheppard attempt to use the love that he knows McKay feels for him to get him to let go. For the sixth time in this episode we are told that Ronon and Teyla are friends, nothing more. Not once is the word used of Sheppard and McKay.

McKay: Just one second! Sheppard: I've seen this before, Rodney: pilots who wouldn't eject when something went wrong, trying to fix their planes right until it hit the ground. McKay: OK, we need to leave.

And Sheppard is very much trying to use tough love here. When he needs something, and he may never have needed anything as much as he needs for McKay to hear him right at this moment, he is not above using any and every weapon in his arsenal. But instead of forcing McKay, he decides to round him to be able to look him in the eye. With McKay, he is using both reason and emotion, and it is emotion that seems to penetrate most deeply.

Now, we never find out what Sheppard is referring to here. Since he seems to have been a test pilot, he may have seen his fair share of crashes. He may be referring to Mitch and Dex from Home (S01E09), even though we were not told that Sheppard had been present for their deaths. He may be referring to Captain Holland, with whom he had been... involved, but it is not clear how much of Phantoms (S03E09) corresponds with what had actually happened, whether Holland had died in the crash or still been alive when Sheppard got to the site of the crash and things had played out more or less like they did in his hallucination (although this was a chopper and not a plane). He may even be referring to himself and something that he had done in the past, and let us recall that it had been only in the previous episode that Sheppard had crashed the jumper where something had gone wrong, and he had not been entirely sure whether he had caused the crash himself. What ever he is referring to, Sheppard is drawing on something very painful from his own history, he is being honest and entirely emotionally open in order to reach McKay, and that is one of the hardest things that Sheppard can do. That is how much McKay means to him.

McKay: I've waited too long, the weapon can't discharge enough power to avoid a catastrophic overload. This whole planet's gonna go up. Not that your speech wasn't working.

Now, McKay had been reluctant to leave because he genuinely believed that the facility was the safest place for them to be while the weapon was going off on the planet's surface, and that was the only thing he could think to keep Sheppard safe and alive. But realizing that the overload was going to take out the entire planet, he agreed that they needed to haul ass and get out. And the way Sheppard is looking at him here, the way time seems to stop for him when McKay finally looks up at him and acknowledges him, the way he seems to be breathing heavily, looking at him with a mixture of relief and awe. To reiterate, Sheppard was never angry at McKay, he was afraid and desperate and trying any and everything he could to get McKay to hear him. But this? The look he gives McKay? If that is not love then I don't know how else to describe it.

While Sheppard's speech was not McKay's motivation for leaving, it did nonetheless reach him. He not only heard Sheppard, he felt what he was trying to communicate. The speech had been working, but that was not his reason for moving them out of the frying pan and into the literal fire, because if he had thought for a moment that he would be able to protect Sheppard better from inside the facility, McKay would have stayed. But now that it no longer seemed to be an option they needed to get going, and instead of being able to keep Sheppard safe, he was now forced to give up his own life into Sheppard's hands. Circumstance forced him to let go of control. McKay had lost control and all he could do now was to hang on for dear life.

Continued in Pt. 12

#sga #stargate atlantis #john sheppard #sga meta #sheppard is bi #rodney mckay #rodney is gay #ep. trinity #ep. outcast #ep. search and rescue #ep. phantoms #ep. home #ep. the storm #ep. aurora #mcshep

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beskarthief · 3 months ago

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Chapter 10 of the Star Wars fic "Order 65". The rest can be found here.

19 BBY, Coruscant, Coruscant Underworld

“Do you know of a Commander Fox, Captain?”

There was a long pause after she asked the question and Rex’s eyes filled with pain. But not just that of sadness; the kind that came from anger, too. The kind of anger that you had to carry with you because nothing you ever did would be enough.

“Captain?” Riyo thought her own voice sounded too small for the moment. What door had she opened? Had it been better left closed? And still some part of her had to know, had to keep pushing despite the fact that Echo had turned away and walked off across the room to stand alone. She had to know; how much danger am I in, really?

“Yes, Senator. I know him.” Rex said eventually, voice heavy with barely contained emotion. He didn’t elaborate, and though Riyo didn’t want to ask, she had to know.

“What did he do, Captain? I’m… I’m sorry to ask, but our operation could be in danger.”

“Most of us clones got assigned the GAR.” Rex told her, eyes distant. “But some got stationed here, on Coruscant. It doesn’t sound like much, but it’s a big difference. The Coruscant Guard weren’t loyal to the Jedi, they’re loyal to Palpatine. At least, he is. They’re like his lap dogs. And Fox is worse than most. He’ll fire on his own brothers without batting an eye, if his precious Chancellor tells him to.”

Riyo shivered. His words carried the weight of lived experience. “I’m sorry, Captain.”

“Be careful, Senator. He’s cleaned up Palpatine’s loose ends before. He’ll do it again.”

Everyone was quiet for a while after that, but eventually Gregor piped up and told her that they were going to be transferring facilities, and things were able to continue. But she could tell they were memories none of them had wanted to relive. Echo didn’t rejoin their group; he stood off to the side before making his way into the warren of back rooms that was the rest of the base. Riyo watched him go out of the corner of her eye.

Rex, too, seemed shaken. He went through the paces of the rest of their meeting like a shadow of his usual self; distracted and barely putting in a word unless spoken to. She was infinitely grateful for Gregor, who was able to lay out most of the supplies she would need to get for them. Riyo made careful note of it all before bidding them farewell, hurrying away so as not to make them continue to relive whatever had happened. But as she reached the door, Captain Rex’s voice rang out over the hangar one final time.

“Senator! If you’re going to be dealing with the Guard, Thire isn’t as bad as the rest of them. He always had a lot of respect for the Jedi.”

Riyo turned back to him, nodding her thanks. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you, Captain.”

She returned to her apartment as quickly as possible, hoping that with Sven and Curtix left guarding her chambers, it would appear as though she never left. Now more than ever Riyo knew she had to be careful. But she had no such luck.

He was waiting on the landing pad, face hidden behind the cold plastoid of his helmet, thoughts unreadable. It would have seemed casual, maybe, him leaning there, if not for the look in Rex’s eyes when she’d mentioned his name.

“Senator, I thought you were inside?” he said, pushing off from the railing where he’d been waiting as she pulled up in her speeder. “You left your guards.”

“I was just visiting a friend.” Riyo said quickly before she evened her tone. “Surely I can do that without bringing a fully armed escort?”

Fox frowned. Or, she imagined he did, under his helmet. “Your life has been threatened before, Senator. The culprits could still be out there.”

Oh, I know they are, Chuchi thought. I’m looking right at them.

“He lives barely five minutes away, Commander. But I appreciate your concern and will be sure to bring Sven and Curtix next time.”

“We could accompany you as well, Senator. If you like.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” she replied smoothly, gliding past him and into her apartment. He hesitated in the doorway, as though he wanted to follow her, but instead just gave a curt nod before returning to his post by the railing. Riyo allowed herself a relieved breath as she closed the door behind her.

Riyo had known she was playing a dangerous game before she placed her piece on the board. But at least before her home had felt safe, like someplace she could breathe. Now the war had crept in here as well. Soon it would fill every corner of the galaxy. But only if she let it.

Chuchi went to her bookshelf and pulled down the small, locked box that she kept her comm in. The real one, that was. Not the fake she carried with her. Bail would be more than willing to confirm her alibi if anyone went asking, she knew. And anyway, she needed to warn him and pass on Rex’s update.

She sent her friend the message cautiously; cryptically. But the end of it was clear enough.

We need to talk.

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sjsmith56 · 2 months ago

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Promise Your Love - A Private Man, Chapter 16

Summary: Bucky and Tracey get married. They make a momentous decision on their wedding night.

Length: 5.5 K

Characters: Bucky, Tracey, Sam, Rebecca, Janice, the Avengers and guests.

Warnings: Minors DNI - contains sexual content which may be unsuitable for readers under the age of 18. Bucky forgets something important.

Author notes: Bucky getting married is what we want, right? It’s all good.

<<Chapter 15

November 30, 2024

"Tell me it's there, at the house," said Bucky, as he spoke to Janice on the phone. "I'm sure I last saw it on the dresser in the bedroom. NO, don't let Tracey know I forgot it. Just make sure you bring it with you when the limousine brings you to the hall. Sam will be waiting at the main door to take it from you. As long as we have it before the ceremony."

He hung up and bent his head. How could he forget the marriage license? Other than himself and his tux it was the only other thing he had to remember as Sam had the ring. He felt Sam's hand on the back of his shoulder.

"Janice found it?" he asked.

Bucky nodded. "Still can't believe I left it there yesterday. How do people who get married more than once do it? I'm a wreck and this is the only marriage I hope to ever have."

"Don't sweat it, Buck," said Sam. "I'm sure I'll be a basket case on my wedding day. You know I'm really happy for you. Tracey's an incredible woman and you two have such a bond."

"She is," sighed Bucky. "How lucky was I to meet her right on my front step?"

"It was meant to happen," replied his friend. "I believe that. After all the shit that went wrong in your life karma was bound to look kindly on you at some point."

Bucky smirked. "Too bad I don't believe in that. You're picking us up from the hotel tomorrow and taking us to the airport, right?" Sam nodded. "I've given you the location of the beach house and I'll have my cell phone with me. If anything happens to Rebecca, you just text Brooklyn and we'll get on the next flight back."

"Nothing is going to happen," soothed Sam, knowing it was Bucky's anxiety talking. "She's healthy, walking like a champ, and with Janice and I staying at the house and her aides coming during the day we've got her needs covered. You can have a great honeymoon."

"I just worry, you know?" said Bucky. "If ever there was a time for Rebecca to get sick it would be now. Not to mention the complete disappearance of Ross and Fontaine has me concerned. Even Walker hasn't heard from them."

"Rhodey is on top of it," replied his partner. "If either of them shows their faces around your sister they'll be arrested, immediately. We’ve done all we could to prepare for anything. Now let's finish getting ready and get over to the venue for the best day of your life."

Nodding his acceptance of Sam's ministrations Bucky buttoned up his dress shirt and tried to put the bow tie on. After the third try Sam came over and did it right the first time. Next came the jackets and both men made sure nothing was out of place before packing their bags and leaving one at the front desk. Bucky's would be transferred to the bridal suite while Sam would take his with him in Tracey's car which he would drive after the reception. Both men headed down to the car and were soon at the Metropolitan Ballroom where Bucky nervously walked through the setup for the ceremony. Pepper was already there with Happy keeping Morgan occupied while she spoke to the facility manager.

"We think alike," she said to the nervous dark-haired Avenger. "I walked through as well and couldn't find anything out of place."

He blushed and coughed nervously. "I just keep thinking of everything that could go wrong."

"Nothing will, Bucky, and even if it does, you're with friends," she said soothingly. "Where's Sam?"

"Waiting out front for the limo," he replied, blushing again. "I forgot the licence."

"There you go, that's likely the worst thing that will happen today," she said. "I take it the ladies will bring it?"

"Janice will," answered Bucky. "I didn't want Tracey or Rebecca to know."

An errant strand of hair hung over Bucky's forehead as he had grown it out a little, so it didn't look so severe for the wedding ceremony. With a smile Pepper brushed it off of his face.

"That tuxedo looks really good on you," she said. "You could have been a model."

He smirked. "Sure, the swimsuit photos would be a hit. Bucky is wearing vibranium arm by Wakanda, along with swim trunks by Walmart."

Pepper squeezed his flesh arm. "You still look good in a tuxedo. Tracey will look stunning in her gown, I promise."

"Sorry," he ducked his head. "It's just anxiety. I was never like this when I was young but the PTSD just does something to a man."

"It's alright," she replied softly. "Tony had his own PTSD issues. On our wedding day he hyperventilated almost to the point of passing out but ten minutes later he was back on his game. You'll be fine, really."

Guests were starting to arrive and she shooed Bucky to wait in the small vestibule set up for him. Rhodey and Torres came back to see him, standing with him for several minutes but eventually they left him alone where he waited until Sam came in and handed him the marriage licence.

"How does Tracey look?" he asked his friend.

"Beautiful," replied Sam. "Rebecca looks twenty years younger. So does Janice for that matter. Rhodey will be blown away."

Bucky looked sharply at him. "I know they danced a lot together at the engagement party but is he interested in her?"

Sam shrugged slightly. "I talked to him a couple of times since then and he asked me about her, mostly about whether her divorce had gone through yet. You know he wouldn't hurt her."

"I know but she's just got through a long abusive marriage," replied Bucky. "It's her call but I think she should wait before jumping into another relationship."

"You're right, it is her call," said Sam, bluntly. "I think she's adjusting well."

The officiant came into the vestibule and asked for the license. With Sam grinning at him Bucky pulled it out of his jacket's inside pocket and handed it to him. The man left to check on the bride's readiness and returned a few minutes later.

"Gentlemen," he said. "They're ready and I believe everyone is here."

Sam stuck his hand out and shook Bucky's hand, then patted him on the shoulder. He left as he would escort Rebecca up the aisle. Even though she walked the distance by herself at the rehearsal the night before both Bucky and Sam felt more secure if he supported her. With a nod the officiant led Bucky out to the square arch covered in roses and chrysanthemums. Tracey had chosen the song for the processional and asked for the original recording of it, a song by a group called Chicago from 1970. Called Colour My World, Bucky could see why she chose it as it was slow enough for the walk but had lyrics that were meaningful to them both. He liked it so much that he suggested they print out the lyrics on a keepsake card for themselves, intending to get it framed after they got back from their honeymoon. As the opening piano sequence started he took a deep breath and looked to the beginning of the aisle where Sam and Rebecca appeared.

She did look twenty years younger. With Rebecca's hair, makeup, and the cut of the steel blue dress with a necklace borrowed from Pepper Stark making her look like a movie star, she walked confidently on Sam's arm, smiling at her brother. A chair was provided for her to sit in, but she chose to stand, her face radiant. Then he turned to see Tracey and her mother, arm in arm, walking towards him. Wearing an ivory coloured gown with lace over the bodice and down into the skirt, Tracey wore a sheer veil that didn't hide the big smile on her face. As the processional song wound down the pair made it to him, and Janice kissed her daughter over the veil then placed her hand in Bucky's before kissing him on the cheek and kissing Rebecca after.

"Dear friends, we are here today to witness the joining of Tracey Harris and Bucky Barnes," began the officiant. "I've only had the pleasure of their acquaintance for the past month, while most of you have known one or the other through various means, with a select group witnessing the development of their relationship since they met just seven months ago. They are truly suited to each other, devoted to the other's wellbeing, full of understanding and empathy for the one they love. Before we begin the proceedings is there any reason why this couple should not be joined in marriage? Speak now or forever hold your peace."

There had been a concern that Marty Harris, Tracey's father was looking for the location of their wedding to interfere, but if he did find out he certainly wasn't there to say anything. The officiant asked the couple to face each other and he continued.

"Marriage is more than just saying vows to each other. You have a lifetime ahead of you to find happiness together, to find the good things in life to share with each other, to find humour and joy in your daily interactions, to comfort one another, and to seek forgiveness and solace when you are troubled. Love will prevail if you allow it to, and it will always make you stronger. You'll enter this marriage as individuals but will leave here today as a bonded pair, husband and wife. It is a great adventure that will require patience and sometimes sacrifice to put the good of the other before your own. Your friends and family are part of this adventure as they witness you commit yourselves to each other today, as they will support you in your marriage in the future. The question we all ask of you today is do you both agree to proceed with the exchange of vows and rings to seal the bond between you?"

"We do," replied Bucky and Tracey in unison.

"Bucky, will you say your vows and present the ring to your bride as a symbol of your bond?"

Bucky nodded and took a deep breath. "From the moment I saw you on the front step, when you first touched my heart, I knew I wanted a life with you. I didn't know your name or anything about your life but I saw in your eyes something warm and soft that I had been searching for. The two months you spent in Belize, fulfilling your need to distance our professional relationship showed me how principled you were as an individual. Since then you have shown me your love and support in ways that have made me feel needed and desired. I promise to be your confidant, to be your faithful husband in thought, word, and deed, at all times, to share all that I am with you, to support and honour you to the best of my abilities."

He turned to Sam who handed the ring to him and he held it at the tip of her ring finger.

"Repeat these words," said the officiant. "With this ring, I take you, Tracey Wendy Harris, to be my lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward; for better and for worse, for richer and for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish until death us do part."

Bucky repeated it as he slid the ring onto her finger. Then he smiled at her and they held hands again.

"Tracey, will you say your vows and present the ring to your groom as a symbol of your bond?"

"Yes," she said softly. "You opened the door to your house that day and it opened my heart to you at the same time. That was the beginning of falling in love with you, a serious yet compassionate man who just wanted help to look after your sister. I felt the power of your inner strength immediately and it drew me in as you showed me the kindness that was inherent in you. That you felt the same for me was evident, and on my return from Belize I knew my future and yours would follow the same path. I will always believe in you, in your humanity and the good man that you truly are, I will be with you forever as your faithful wife, to be honest and truthful with you, to share a path of love and honour with you for as long as we both live."

She turned to Rebecca who took a ring off her thumb and placed it in Tracey's palm with a smile. She held it at the tip of his vibranium ring finger.

"It will break," he whispered.

She shook her head. "Shuri made it out of vibranium. It will flex with your hand and never break."

He looked into the assembled guests and made out the smiling faces of Queen Shuri and her guards Okoye and Ayo.

"Everything okay?" whispered the officiant.

"It's perfect," replied Bucky. "Please continue."

"Okay, Tracey, repeat these words," continued the man. "With this ring, I take you, James Buchanan Barnes, to be my lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward; for better and for worse, for richer and for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish until death us do part."

Bucky watched with amused interest as the gold coloured ring expanded over his finger joint then settled into the gold groove that marked the space between the knuckle and the joint of his ring finger. He clenched his fist and released it, confirming that the ring flexed with his finger. For a moment he wondered if Shuri had manufactured it before he became engaged, hoping for him to be married some day. It just reaffirmed how much he felt obligated to the Wakandans.

Looking at Tracey he could feel the swell of emotion building within him as they both waited for the final words of the ceremony.

"Without further ado," stated the officiant, "I reiterate that Tracey and Bucky have come here today of their own free will, and in the presence of all of you witnesses, by openly declaring their love and commitment to each other. By the power invested in me by the State of New York, it gives me great pleasure to formally pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss to end the spoken part of the ceremony."

Bucky lifted Tracey's veil off of her face and placed one hand on her neck with the other around her waist. Pulling her close he pressed his lips to hers in a soft but meaningful kiss that produced many sighs from the assembled guests. Then he kissed Rebecca while she kissed Sam and the four were directed to a table where they signed the documents that verified the wedding. While they did so the sounds of Marvin Gaye singing How Sweet It Is to Be Loved by You came over the speakers. When they finished, they stood before those who were seated.

"It gives me great pleasure to introduce to you Mr. and Mrs. Bucky and Tracey Barnes," announced the officiant.

With applause they stepped onto the carpet runner than walked down the aisle, stopping to kiss or hug those who sat closest. Sam and Rebecca followed closely. From the ceremony room the wedding party stood to receive their guests into a place for cocktails and refreshments. This time they were greeted by everyone as they transferred into the next room. After about ten minutes of welcoming people Rebecca sat on a chair, mostly to be certain she retained enough stamina for the rest of the evening.

When Shuri, Okoye and Ayo approached the wedding couple Bucky looked at the young queen / scientist with some scrutiny.

"I wasn't sure you were coming," he said. "You didn't exactly give us a reply."

"Sergeant Barnes, there was never any doubt in my mind that we were coming," said the regal young woman. "Especially since I learned of attempts to force you into your previous profession, partly to assist certain individuals in satisfying their corporate masters." He looked at her with some surprise. "Oh yes, we know of Thaddeus Ross, and Valentina de Fontaine's plans with the former Secretary of State. But we will speak of it with others, including your President, while you are enjoying your honeymoon."

"When did you make the ring?" he asked. "We only sent the invitations four weeks ago."

"It was always our hope that you would find a life partner," interrupted Okoye. "King T'Challa ordered its creation at the time of the arm's manufacture. The ring was devised to become part of your prosthetic, never to be forced off by anyone against your will. It is a symbol of what we hope your marriage will be; a union between two loves that will stand the test of time."

"Then I owe even more to Wakanda for having that hope for me, because it wasn't until I met my wife that I began to hope that for myself."

"We always had hope for you, Sergeant," added Shuri, softening her tone, then turned her gaze to Tracey. "Mrs. Barnes, you have bonded with an extraordinary man, whose loyalty to those he cares about is unmatched."

Tracey strengthened her hold on Bucky's arm. "I learned that quickly," she said. "He is my champion, in so many ways. Thank you for coming. It means a lot to both of us."

All three women gave a respectful dip of their heads in response and went on to join the group gathered around Rhodes. In truth, he had notified the Wakandans early on about the speculation of the reasons behind Ross's and Fontaine's activities. When he was given the green light to formally reassemble the Avengers Shuri was one of the first people he contacted, as he considered she would inherit more than the throne. It was also the young queen's intent to visit the newcomer's centre as she had been impressed with Bucky's involvement with the agency set up to assist refugees and immigrants from around the world to adapt to western living. Considering the number of refugees that came from African countries she wanted to know for herself how they had been treated, and like Pepper Stark, was contemplating further assistance to the group.

After the last person had been greeted by the wedding party Bucky got a scotch for himself and a glass of white wine for Tracey, while Sam got himself a beer and wine for Rebecca. They visited with everyone until the announcement that dinner was ready. After everyone was seated and the wedding party announced dinner was served, with those who had identified as Muslim receiving a halal meal. They also made sure African dishes were on the menu which the three Wakandans noticed and approved of. Once everyone had eaten their fill a break was called to make the vaulted hall ready for the dance.

The dozen member band that played at their engagement party had swelled to sixteen, including a woman singer who would share singing duties with one of the musicians. When they set up, the piano player, as the de facto leader of the band, took the mike for just a moment to address the guests.

"Since we last played in that little jazz club, word got out about a guy who absolutely loves jazz and blues classics from the 1930s and 1940s," he began. "Don't worry, we'll play some newer stuff as well but we had several people approach us to get involved in the performance at this guy's wedding. We've had a blast rehearsing for it and it's safe to say we've had some interest in putting on a concert here and there so it looks like getting together as a one time band is expanding to become a regular occurrence for us in the future. We have Bucky Barnes to thank for that, or more precisely the man who originally approached us on Bucky's behalf, Captain America himself, Sam Wilson. So let's get this dance off the ground by inviting the happy couple up for their first dance as newlyweds, to the Ella Fitzgerald, Louis Armstrong version of The Nearness of You."

He looked to the drummer who counted it down and they began playing. Bucky had the biggest grin on his face as he twirled Tracey around the floor. The woman singer had the most beautiful clear voice, while the musician who took on the Louis Armstrong vocals had the same gravelly intonation of the legendary singer / musician. By the looks on the faces of the band members and guests who were watching, the song was enjoyed on many levels. When the band began playing more of the older classics the dance floor became crowded with people enjoying the music that Bucky and to a lesser extent, Rebecca had grown up enjoying. Just like at the engagement party she danced with a lot of different men, charming all of them with her enthusiasm. When she got tired she sat and watched, clapping along with the beat.

Bucky, who danced mostly with his new wife, relived much of his youth with the sounds of the band and the lights of the ballroom. Everything about it was enjoyed by him and by extension, Tracey. When the band played I Only Have Eyes for You, she whispered in Bucky's ear.

"We should go," she said, knowing only he could hear it with his superior hearing. "I have some things in mind for you."

Placing his mouth next to her ear he replied just loudly enough for her to hear. "Mrs. Barnes, that's awfully forward of you. What would people think?"

She looked at him with her eyes so full of love. "They would think it's about time we got out of here."

Placing her hand on his cheek he lowered his head to hers and kissed her gently, then he nodded. They both left the dance floor and came over to Sam who was sitting with Rebecca and Amina.

"Oh Mr. Bucky, what a wonderful time my husband and I have had at our first American wedding," she said, with enthusiasm. "We even tried dancing to one of your songs. We need practice, much practice."

"I'm glad to hear you've enjoyed it," he replied, then he looked at Rebecca and took her by the hand. "I think we're going to get going. You'll come with Sam to pick us up and see us off tomorrow?"

"That's my plan," she replied. "Make sure you don't forget your passports."

She had a sweet smile on her face, and he shook his head in mock exasperation, realizing she knew he forgot the wedding licence. Kissing her on the side of the head first, he hugged her, then leaned towards Sam to let him know they were leaving. Nodding, Sam gave the signal to the piano player to play the last song for the couple before they left. When they finished the current song, he announced the couple would be leaving after one more song, What a Wonderful World. A space cleared for them, and they danced with a spotlight on them. Quickly, Tracey tossed her bouquet into the crowd, laughing when her mother emerged with it. Sam extracted Tracey's overnight bag from the cloakroom of the facility as Bucky's was already in the hotel room, left from earlier when he and Sam left the hotel, placed them in the limousine then assisted Rebecca outside to say goodbye. Everyone was given eco-friendly confetti to toss at them as they made their goodbyes out in the cool night air then they got into the limousine, and it pulled away.

He kissed Tracey's hand in the back seat then leaned over to kiss her. "As fun as that was, I'm glad it's over," he said. "I haven't danced like that since 1943 when the USO brought a show to an army base in England and allowed the local girls in so we had someone to dance with."

"It was fun," agreed Tracey. Snuggling closer to her new husband she kissed his ear. "I hope you don't mind if I try something fun tonight."

"Oh yeah?" he smiled as he put his arm around her. "Any hints?"

She shook her head smiling at him. "I think you'll like it ... Sergeant Barnes."

A small giggle escaped her lips and he kissed her passionately, noticing the privacy panel go up between them and the driver. Twenty minutes later Bucky knocked on the panel and it came down.

"Thank you," said Bucky, to the driver, reaching over the back of the seat with some folded cash. "I appreciate your discretion."

"You're not my first newlywed couple," smiled the driver, taking the cash.

On his way back Bucky noticed Tracey's panties still on the floor of the limousine and picked them up, placing them in his tuxedo pocket as he took his place beside her again. It felt like something old Bucky would do.

After check-in at the hotel Bucky carried Tracey across the threshold of the bridal suite door, tipping the bell boy for bringing her bag up. It was pointed out that his bag was already in the room and that the food and drinks would be delivered shortly.

"Come here," said Bucky softly. "Did I tell you that you looked incredible tonight?"

"No, but you did say I looked beautiful, stunning, good enough to eat, and what was the other word ... like a goddess," she smiled, as she approached him. "Did I tell you that you looked handsome?"

"About a dozen times," he nodded. "I liked hearing it every time."

Reaching to her veil he gently undid the bobby pins, releasing it, then found the bobby pins that were still in her hair, removing them and running his hand through her long locks. A knock on the door interrupted them and Bucky opened it to room service bringing a plate of oysters and chocolate covered strawberries, plus a bottle of champagne and two long stemmed glasses. He tipped the server and locked the door behind him. Tracey looked at the oysters and grimaced slightly.

"It's okay, they're for me," said Bucky. "I ate them in Romania to help my brain heal. In my youth they were thought to help in other ways." A sexy smile crossed his face as he picked one up in the shell, raised it to his upturned face and let it slide into his mouth, chewing a couple of times before he swallowed. "Not bad. Do you want a strawberry?"

She nodded and came close to him again as he picked one up and held it up to her lips, watching intently as she bit into it, sliding his free hand around her waist as she chewed it. A piece of chocolate was stuck on the outside of her lip, and he gently licked it off.

"We need music," murmured Tracey.

"We do," agreed Bucky, and he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, bringing her panties with it. "You surprised me in the limousine."

"I surprised myself," she answered, with an amused look on her face. "Maybe marriage is bringing out a bit of the wild girl I was never allowed to be when I was younger."

"God, I love you," he suddenly said, embracing her then kissing her deeply.

When they finished kissing she turned her back for him to undo the many buttons on the back of her dress. As the skin on her back was exposed he ran his fingers down the opening, realizing that she hadn't worn a bra, and with her panties coming off in the limousine she was mostly nude under the dress. It had an immediate effect on him, which became more evident when she dropped her dress off her shoulders to show she was only wearing a garter belt attached to stockings.

"Someone has a problem," she said, pouting her lips slightly as she turned to face him. "Someone is overdressed for the occasion. Do you need help getting undressed?"

"Darlin', I like how you're talkin'," replied Bucky, his Brooklyn accent suddenly coming out. "Just let me get this music going and I'll let you undress me."

He opened his playlist, and it began with a mixture of their songs from their first date in the back yard. As Tracey undid his tie Bucky removed his jacket tossing it aside, then caressed her body as she undid his shirt and pulled it out of his pants. They kissed again, both of them stroking the skin of the other. When Tracey undid Bucky's pants, revealing he was fully aroused, they both looked down at his bulge.

"Damn, baby," he gasped, picking her up and kissing her feverishly as he carried her to the bed. Lay, Lady, Lay began playing on the playlist and Bucky smiled at Tracey. "You're so beautiful."

Smiling back, she reached for him, cupping him over his briefs before pulling them off and pulling him into her. There was no hesitation as he entered her and began thrusting. For both, what happened next was basic instinctual biology as they each lost control of any inhibitions they may have previously had. It was quick, almost violent, and brought them to a loud and very physical release. After they were done they tried to piece together just what happened as Bucky brought some warm wet facecloths out to clean around some definite bite marks on each of them.

"I'm sorry," he whispered as he gently dabbed around them on her breast. "It was like something came over me and I turned into a wild animal."

"What about what I did to you?" countered Tracey, wincing for him as she gently pressed the facecloth into the broken skin on his neck and shoulder. "What the hell happened to us?"

"Lost in the moment I guess. I'll heal quickly but you, you're going to be marked. I feel terrible."

Gently, she put her hand on his cheek and kissed him. "It's alright. It was an incredible orgasm, for what it's worth." She thought of something and quickly went to the bathroom, coming back a few minutes later. "Bucky, my IUD isn't there. The threads to it are gone."

His head came up and he stared at her. "What does that mean?"

"I could be pregnant." At first, he said nothing. "All night, I've really wanted you and when we got into it I felt like nothing else mattered but feeling every part of whatever we were doing. Increased sexual desire is one of the signs of early pregnancy, no more than a couple of weeks, possibly. Do you know if your super soldier pheromones are strong enough to affect your partner?"

"No, I don't know," he replied. "I haven't been with many women since I escaped HYDRA and the men, well they were pretty much all demanding it quick and rough. We didn't really talk or cuddle after." He looked away, embarrassed. "Are you disappointed in me?"

She was in front of him in a moment, kneeling down and holding his face in her hands so quickly it startled him.

"Never," she replied in a voice so intense he could feel it deep inside. "You are everything to me and what you did before you met me was how you coped with a basic human need, that's all. We've kept it pretty low key since we became physical, which was fine but maybe it was just us getting used to each other or we were just not allowing ourselves to let go and it all came out tonight."

"Do you have any other symptoms?" he asked, in a voice that sounded both plaintive and hopeful.

"Well, possibly, but we've been a bit stressed with the wedding so I may have attributed it to that," she replied. "I could take a home pregnancy test. The really sensitive ones can tell early in the pregnancy. It's best to take it in the morning when the pregnancy hormone is at its strongest concentration."

"Then we'll do that," he said, smiling softly at her. "What about tonight? I don't have any condoms with me."

"If I am pregnant then it's already happened," she replied. "If I'm not ... maybe I'm meant to be, if you want."

His quick answer surprised him. "Yeah, I want it. I've wanted it since the war. Would you be the mother of my child?"

"In a New York minute."

They kissed passionately, accepting that what happened between them was meant to happen. Whatever made them lose control was gone as they made love several more times during the night, in ways that were much more gentle but just as satisfying to them both. Bucky promised to run to a pharmacy in the morning and buy a home pregnancy test to find out if they had even more to celebrate. Until then they wouldn't worry about it.

Chapter 17>>

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