#and then some fucking orange 'water' came out of it that had been stuck inside for WHO KNOWS HOW LONG

[fantabulisticity]

Just clogged and plunged the toilet in my 💖new apartment💖 for the first time! 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

[zweiginator]

having an argument w stepbro!patrick over smth stupid like who didn’t shut the fridge or who forgot to put the washing in the dryer and it ends with hate sex :) him groaning “i fucking hate you” as he bottoms out, and you moaning it straight back at him

you're a genius

your mom and patrick's dad are in the kitchen and they notice that one of you accidentally left the milk out. it's a stupid and trivial and innocuous mistake. could've been anyone.

"it was patrick." you grab a strawberry from the dining room table. "he was eating cereal yesterday.

"no it fucking wasn't. you're not just going to pin this on me." patrick shoves you aside and sits at the seat you usually sit at for breakfast. pours himself a glass of orange juice and glares at you. "you were putting milk in your coffee after i ate breakfast."

"guys--it doesn't matter." your mom says. and it truly doesn't. when you're sitting at a grand dinner table with fine china in a house that patrick's dad bought for four million dollars--spoiled milk doesn't matter.

but you fucking hate patrick and he fucking hates you. your eyes twitch when you see each other. he shoves into you in the hallway and gets your towels in the bathroom dirty even though he has his own bathroom in his own room. he makes fun of the boys you date and when you wear lipstick. he says you're annoying and too stuck up and too uptight.

and you get makeup stains on the t-shirts you steal from his closet. you borrow his tennis rackets whe you want to play with your friends. you giggle on the phone with your little boyfriends until three in the morning, until patrick bangs on your door and screams in your face. calls you a spoiled fucking brat. as if he isn't worse.

"i know how to put things back where they came from. i'm not an idiot." you spit back, yanking the butter knife away from him.

"could've fooled me. you're pretty fucking stupid actually. and last time i checked, you steal, like, all of my shit." patrick fakes a smile at you. yanks the knife back.

"i don't want your disgusting clothes that you never wash. you couldn't pay me to go into your closet to smell it in there."

patrick takes a bite of his toast, rolling his eyes. "now you're just fucking lying."

"stop talking with your mouth full it's gross. have some decorum."

"aww she learned a five dollar word!"

and patrick gets up, shoving his hip into your chair to spill your water on your shirt. puts his dishes in the sink. "i have practice, bye."

but this argument, it lingers for days. stays sour in your mouths and tickles the end of your tongues. you've never had a spat like this, one that spans for days and days.

patrick invites a girl over. you embarrass him in front of her.

"fourth one this week. that's a record."

she leaves fifteen minutes later.

patrick turns the hot water off when you go to take a shower.

you take his clothes out of the washer to wash your own, so he has to wear soaking wet shorts to a match.

whatever one of you does, the other retaliates. but the fight doesn't reach a head until you take his car without asking. you only went to get some ice cream, but when you pull into the driveway, patrick is already screaming at you. seething. his ears are red and his arms are crossed and spit flies at your face as he yells.

"are you fucking kidding me? this isn't a what's mine is yours situation. you don't steal my fucking car whenever you want." he grabs your wrist. throws your cup of strawberry ice cream on the concrete. "how does that feel? you're such a fucking brat."

you slap him. "what is up your ass? god, you're so fucking uptight. let loose for once, why are you so tense and annoying? chill the fuck out!"

patrick hates that. he hates that you're mocking what he's said to you before. hates that you're pressing your little fingers into the bruise of his ego until it really stings.

he yanks you inside, slamming the door. your mom and step dad left hours ago, something about a dinner party forty-five minutes away. you and patrick figure they'll drink too much wine and stay the night.

"you think that's fucking cute?" patrick pushes you against the door. turns you around so your stomach presses against the cold door knob. you feel your pulse in your belly button and his body looming behind you. and he spanks you. as hard as he can. it stings and the pain lingers. you yelp.

"patrick--" you look back at him.

the silence is all-encompassing. you hear the ticking of the clock in the foyer, the soft hum of the air conditioner. the trickling faucet in the kitchen that never turns off, and patrick's heavy breathing. and suspended between you is a choice. you can tell him off. apologize for this whole big drawn-out fight. you can walk away.

or, you can ease into the tension. let the rubber band snap and hit you both in the face. you can do something taboo and wrong. something that your respective parents would fucking disown you for.

patrick lowers you onto the rug in the foyer. fumbles with the buttons of his shirt. shoves his tongue in your mouth and feels yours in his. his hips rut into you and you tangle your fingers in his hair.

you hate to give him the satisfaction of moaning, of letting him know he's good at something. but you do.

"you think you're so cute when you piss me off." he whispers against the shell of your ear. he pulls his boxers down, revealing his cock and it's so big you don't know if you can take it.

patrick reads your mind. sees the look on your face.

"you started this so you're gonna fucking take it." pushes himself deep inside you until he bottoms out. he hisses and groans as you claw at his back. you say patrick, please, patrick i--

and he laughs at you. because you thought you won your little spat. but patrick can shut you up. he can make you forget all about your cockiness when he's slamming into you. and he does.

your legs bounce over his shoulders, his little gold chain necklace dangling over you, tickling your lips. patrick spits on you. you slap him across the face. he grabs your wrist and slams it on the ground, pinning it above your head.

but you moan nonetheless. and you know patrick feels good by how his mouth stays open. how his chest is flushed and his hips twitch as you squeeze him tighter and tighter.

"i fucking hate you. you're the worst thing that's ever happened to me." his hand is wrapped around your throat. it doesn't matter if he stops thrusting; you'll fuck yourself on him, use him for yourself. and he think's you're so greedy.

your moans and words are choppy from the force. the table in the foyer wobbles as patrick throws both of your legs over one shoulder and goes deeper.

"god--i--hate you too. hate you so much. i fucking--" you gasp, throwing your head back. patrick laughs at you. "fucking wish we never met."

patrick pulls out. uses your body as a cum rag. paints your stomach, your lips, your face with it. and then he gets up and goes to his room.

you don't speak to each other until your mom and his dad get back a couple days later. it's early in the morning and you sit in the kitchen in complete silence. nobody but you notices that when patrick is finished with breakfast, he leaves the milk out. he looks at you and winks.

[softpascalito]

Pedro Pascal Kinktober Day Twentyfive

Dancing together - Silva/Reader

Summary: When a particularly hard rain hits your little ranch, so does the sadness. Luckily Silva is there to make it better.

(This fills a few gaps in Silvas life in a way that ties in with the movie.)

Relationships: Silva x F!Reader

WC: 1400

Tags/Warnings: Established Relationship, ranch life, Domestic, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Ties in with the movie timeline, Parent Silva, Slow Dancing, Romance, Kissing in the Rain, Time skips, This turned out really fucking sad for no reason

AO3 LINK

notes: in case this didnt become clear by the tags: SWOL SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

if youve not seen the movie, pack this one into your read later <3

_________________________________________

It had been raining for days.

At first, it had seemed like a godsent, filling up the water tanks and horse troughs, washing the orange dust off the windows and watering the small garden you had set up behind the stables.

Then, it had gone on for days.

You were sitting on the floor of the small porch, huddled into a few worn-out blankets to shield yourself from the wetness that seemed all around you, creeping into every corner of the house, leaving everything damp and cold. The book in your hands had been stuck on the same page for the better half of an hour. You'd reread the page several times, never quite grasping what it said before you'd given up, instead staring out at the orange landscape that was now drenched in water, little trickles running down the side of the house and over the ground, crossing the footpaths. The water found its way back into the earth.

You registered the footsteps behind you before you felt his presence, looming in the doorway of the house.

“Darlin'?”

There was no response and he shifted slightly, “You wanna come on inside?”

You sighed, letting your gaze wander over the piece of land and landing, once more, on the edge of the barn, catching the small glimpse of the garden behind it, “They're gonna be ruined.”

Your voice was quiet and matter-of-factly. Silva sighed softly as he let himself drop to the once dusty floor next to you, his gaze fixed on your face, “What is?”

“The cabbage. The potatoes,” you listed quietly, pausing for a moment before going on. “The lavender.”

Pity formed in Silva's stomach at that, having been witness to the hard work you'd put in to keep the plants alive, especially in the harsh conditions of the desert. You finally turned your head, peeking out of the blankets, your eyes filled with sadness and resignation. You both knew that you were powerless against nature.

A few moments passed with neither of you speaking before Silva tilted his head slightly, “We can buy potatoes and cabbages from the market,” he said gently, opening his mouth to continue but you were faster. “But no lavender.”

He stayed quiet. Then, without a word, the cowboy got up, stepping off the small porch and out into the pouring rain.

“Silva!” You called after him but he just waved his hand in dismissal, shaking his head as he made his way over to the stables. Your eyes were trained on the green jacket that blurred behind the water falling from the sky and you sighed a little, watching as he disappeared into the stables, most likely to check on the horses.

Just when you had been about to turn away, he appeared again, carrying two large buckets. When he came closer, you saw that it was the lavender, dug up from where it had been planted and placed into the makeshift flower pots. He had draped his jacket over them to try and keep some of the rain out and he dripped onto the porch as he reached you.

For a brief moment, he disappeared into the house and your heart warmed at the knowledge that your plants now shared the little room you had inside.

You almost walked into him in an attempt to follow but he came back outside, stepping past you and into the rain.

You watched him in disbelief, “What are you doing?”

He turned to you, his clothes already dripping from the rain and you couldn't help but think of a wet puppy, left out in the rain as you stared at him from where you were standing on the porch, safely protected by the small metal roof above you.

But that smile. Oh, that smile.

“Silva-” You couldn't stay gloomy, laughing a bit at the sight of him as he raised his head towards the sky, tilting it back so that the rain was now hitting his face as well.

Then, he held out his hand, “Come here.”

You hesitated. “But-” His tone became a little softer as his eyes fell back on you and he repeated, “Come here. Please.”

You did, stepping into the rain and gasping a little as the water hit you. It wasn't too cold nor too windy but it was a lot, flowing down on you without mercy.

Silva's hand flew to your waist, the other still holding your hand as he began to hum a melody and started leading you to it.

Another small giggle escaped you at that and you fell into his rhythm, dancing with him as you too, became drenched in what the heavens had sent. You smiled up at his handsome face, the skin weathered from sun and dust seemingly washed clean for the first time since you had laid eyes on him years ago.

His chocolate brown eyes looked down at you with so much love and softness in them that you felt like your heart was going to burst and a small blush crept up your cheeks.

Silva's hand on your waist directed you towards him and his soft lips found yours, placing a gentle kiss on them, the water passing between the two of you as you slowly continued to dance. The melody he was humming reached its slightly off-key peak and he raised his arm to let you twirl under it. You did, wet strands of hair and soaked clothes flying around you as you turned under him.

The usually dusty ground was more uneven now and you stepped into one of the trickles, losing your grip.

Silva quickly reached out to catch you, but he too was not used to the rather slippery surface and you landed on the ground together with a small thud, entangled in each other's arms.

You barely had time to see the worry on his face as you erupted into a fit of giggles, rolling onto your back as you stared up at the gray sky.

The cowboy caught up quickly, rolling himself on top of you and pressing a kiss to your quivering lips, then to your cheeks and soon your entire face was being peppered by his lips.

“I don't mind the rain so much,” he muttered under his breath and you brought your hand to his cheek, running your thumb over his dark stubble, “I don't mind it either.”

You smiled at each other, knowing that neither of you were actually talking about the rain. You were talking about something entirely different.

Silva continued his gentle kisses, his mouth slowly making its way down your neck as your hand wandered over the red shirt that clung to his body and reached his belt.

Just when you had hooked your fingers into the buckle, a cry from inside the house let both of you pause. You sighed as he pulled back slightly, getting up with a small grunt and then reaching out to help you stand again as well. “Sounds like someone's feeling left out,” He muttered.

“It's because he takes after you,” you smirked, holding onto his hand as you made your way back to the small house together.

Years later, when his son was still sleeping in the same bed but now filled it completely and you had been long gone, SIlva would stand on his porch and watch two men wrestle in the dust in front of his house. And for a moment, a split moment, his mind would wander back towards that season of rain long past and he would think of two different bodies in the same spot, drenched in water, kissing and touching and loving each other.

After cleaning Jake's wounds, he went to see you that day, kneeling before the slightly crooked stone that was placed next to a small tree, barely twenty feet from the wooden house. His calloused hand gently patted the earth that held you now, the way he had held you years ago.

A familiar scent filled his nostrils and he smiled as he looked down on the small patch of lavender that grew on your grave.

It smelled like rain.

[brutal-nemesis]

Goretober VII: Pas-tell Me About It

The concept of this was a crack idea I had on a whim but I feel like it turned out better than I expected lmao so enjoy the @coyotehusk goretober content 🤪

←Previous - Castys Masterlist - Goretober Masterlist - Next→

Ingredients: yes i really did pastel gore in writing, vivisection, beheading, body horror vibes, emeto mention

Honestly, Castys was starting to get kinda bored of vivisection. Like, wow, there were his guts. They’re the same as the last eight times he saw them. Spice it up for once, why don’t you?

Somehow, Kuro must have read his mind, and he really regretted wishing for something different.

What she brought over after cutting him open wasn’t a knife or a hammer or a chisel, no needles or hooks, just…paint. “We already did the art class bit, didn’t we? What’re you gonna do with those?” 

Kuro laughed as she dipped her paintbrush into a glob of light purple. “I’m going to paint, of course. You’ll just have to come up with more jokes.” Castys sighed, sort of watching as she started to brush the paint over his ribs. This was fucking stupid. Who the hell even thought of painting someone’s literal organs? And, like, why? Why the fuck? And as always, despite the awful bizarreness of his situation, he couldn’t do much of anything about it. He just had to lie there as she turned his bones purple. Well, not all of his bones, thankfully, just some.

His lungs were pale blue. It was always strange to watch them move as he breathed,  swelling and shrinking. Smirking, he breathed in and out as quickly as he could, causing Kuro to smudge blue paint on his ribs. She slapped him pretty hard for that, but it was worth it. Not enough to do it again, though, so he kept his breathing steady for the remainder of the time she spent on his lungs.

His liver was pastel green. Green made him think about plants, which made him think about how long it’d been since he went outside. He’d been stuck in this same stupid torture room the whole time since he got kidnapped, and not even seeing the sun was starting to weigh on him a bit. It was the sort of thing he didn’t appreciate as much as he should until it was gone, but at least it wasn’t gone for good. He’d be able to go outside again…someday.

His stomach was a muted yellow. At least this didn’t hurt in itself, just the standard pain from being torn open like a candy wrapper. He missed having candy, and the fucking blood vomit chocolate did not count. Even water would be nice, too, just to wash the taste of blood out of his mouth, but why bother when he didn’t need it to live? Who cares if he felt the pain from hunger and thirst?

His large intestine was a faded orange. Being cut open like this was cold, both because he wasn’t wearing anything besides shorts and because he’d lost quite a bit of blood from the whole process. Oh, and his organs weren’t fucking insulated against the open air, which was probably actually what was making him so cold. Was he gonna end up dying from hypothermia? His fingers and toes were sort of numb, now that he thought about it. Hopefully if he died she wouldn’t start this all over again.

His small intestine was…pink. It was already pink, and Kuro was painting it a different shade of pink, which seemed stupid, but then again this whole thing was very stupid. At least this was probably almost over, since he didn’t have any more large visible organs left, as far as he could tell. What the fuck was she gonna do when she was done? The paint was going to stay inside him if he died, and he’d rather not get poisoned by it over and over or something.

“Alright, I’m all done! I want you to see, but I feel like you won’t really be able to appreciate it from there.”

“From-what the fuck does that mean? Am I supposed to-oh.” 

Kuro hefted the ax, tentacles removing the strap over his neck but keeping his head in place. “Just hold still for a second.”

When Castys came back to life, he was lying on the cold stone floor. He sat up and rubbed his neck, wincing when he felt blood. He really, really didn’t want to stand up and see his old body, still strapped to the table and painted, but Kuro pulled him up by the hair and yanked his hands behind his back with her tentacles when he tried to resist. So he had to look.

It was his corpse, he knew it was, but it didn’t look like him in the slightest. His head was fucking gone, for one, since Kuro had chopped it off and caused him to regenerate a new body from it, which is why he’d left this one behind and didn’t heal it. And the organs were…something. Pastel colors like that didn’t belong inside a person like that, softening the glisten of their organs, almost making them look like candy, something oddly beautiful and disgusting at the same time. He wanted to take a hammer or something to it and destroy it, wash all those colors out in red. Then he could believe it was his body.

“Well, Castys, what do you think?”

“I think you’re the most batshit fucking insane person I’ve ever met.”

“I’ll take it.”

Next→

Castys Cult: @as-a-matter-of-whump​ @blackrosesandwhump​ @fanmanga1357-blog​​ @thehopelessopus​ @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi​ @hearse-song​ @muddy-swamp-bitch @whumpasaurus101 @yet-another-heathen​​ @galaxywhump​ @starnight-whump​ @his-unspoken-words @misspelledwitch​ @suspicious-whumping-egg​ @pumpkin-spice-whump @painsandconfusion​ @i-can-even-burn-salad​​ @befuddled-calico-whump @whumpinggrounds​ @whump-queen​ @whumpedydump​

[lovetransaction]

.. it will brighten all our way human cas/trans dean, food, gender issues, rough sex

"I want eggs," Cas had said, when he came in and looked around with his head drooped forward, with his mouth open and downturned, perturbed frown crinkling his forehead. "Quickly. Eggs."

Then he'd sat down at the main table in the bunker, instead of going to the kitchen. "You want those on a raft?" Dean had said, for lack of any other response, and Cas stared at the table and said, "If that's how many you're making. I do want a lot of them."

And now he was eating them. Dean brought a few slices of bread just in case but Cas didn't care about that. Cas had loosened his tie and it was hanging lopsided as he ate his eggs, sunny-side up because that was fast to cook and Dean liked cooking them better than scrambled, but Cas wasn't eating that bread and Cas wasn't using a fork. He was dipping his fingers into the plate of ten fried eggs and breaking them open, bringing drippy scoops of yolk streaming up to his mouth. Steadily, staring ahead.

"You don't want some toast, buddy?" Dean tried. It was uncomfortable to watch. He couldn't even sit down, he had such heebie-jeebies; he just hovered next to Cas. Yellow-gold yolk was crusting along the corner of Cas' mouth, because these were free-range eggs that Sam liked to buy at the farmer's market, the colour almost startlingly orange. "Or a fork, or a spoon, or a ... vacuum hose..."

"Tempera paint is made of egg yolk," Cas said, and drew his fingertips along his face. Then he stood up and stepped close to Dean, so close the smell of warm buttery oil and the crackly edges of the whites came with him and Dean's mouth sprang water, against his back teeth. "Take off your clothes, Dean."

"Easy," Dean said, looking at the smear of slowly powdering yellow across Cas' navy blue tie. "Finish your breakfast."

Cas didn't move and his eyes were entirely blue, just a pinpoint of black as his gaze dragged down Dean's body. "I'm hungry," Cas said, and when he looked up at Dean's face his pupils went big and black so fast Dean almost reached for Cas' unused butter knife. But then Cas grasped for the hem of Dean's tshirt and yanked it, so Dean said, "easy," again and took it off himself. Carried on undoing his jeans and shoving them down with his shorts, and Cas' hands were on him immediately, gripping his hips, pushing him back against the table.

Back, and down, Cas following him with dirty fingers and dirty face, his eyes intent. He leaned in close and stuck his yolk-streaked fingers between Dean's legs, finding his clit and rubbing hard, two fingertips, while Dean gasped and said, "--come on, man, you couldn't use your other hand?" He whined when Cas twisted three fingers into him, body jolting against the table, and Cas made a sound in his throat that was either interest or satisfaction or evaluation. He was easier to read as an angel. Dean didn't want to dwell on that.

Cas reached up to grab Dean's jaw, cinching it hard, his own jaw set firm with his underbite jutting as he stared down at Dean and fucked him mean with those fingers. "Rebirth," he said, "and new life. But also your brain on drugs. Did you know American children can't be trusted with eggs that are literally called Children Surprise?" He took his fingers out, sucked them clean of the glistening wet that overlaid the streaks of yolk, and shoved them back into Dean, fucking and fucking with them.

"There's no prizes inside me," Dean said gruffly, his voice catching on a particularly deep lunge of Cass' hand, the jut of his thumb against Dean's clit again. Cas took his hand away, trailing his wet fingers down to Dean's asshole and stroking there before holding his sides and pulling him up. They were face-to-face and Cas was just looking at him. The egg yolk had dried, no longer orange-paint gluey; now it almost looked like gold on a religious painting, arcing over the left side of Cas' upper lip. Like it had been outlined there deliberately.

Cas breathed, a look of aggrieved concentration crossing his face, and turned Dean around, pushing him facedown against the table this time. He heard Cas' belt, his zip, the particular music of buckle and cloth, and Dean's mouth opened panting against the tabletop. Pavlov's dog when it came to that sound; trained to it from his youth. Cas' hard dick slid through his wet folds and Dean spread his legs out more but then Cas bypassed his dripping cunt, already worked open, and Dean made a sound when Cas pressed to his ass and held his hip steady with that fucking wet-spit-yolk hand as he forced the head of his cock in with the other. He pushed in without pause, without considering the way Dean tensed up automatically, caught off guard, before forcing himself to relax and take it, the way Dean breathed, "--easy!" against the table as his hands slapped down against it and groped immediately into fists.

Cas lurched forward and Dean hissed. "You're human right now, Cas," he said, half angry and half pleading. "You can't heal me when you're done. You have to fuckin' ease up." Instead of splitting Dean open over his cock without anything to help things along. But Cas started to thrust, saying nothing, switching to hold Dean's hip with his clean hand as he pumped and shoved himself in further each time until they both felt when the blood made it warmer and wetter. "I fixed it," Cas said, and Dean said, "ahhh--" and turned one of his fists on its side. Cas had never been good at listening when they fucked. This was nothing new. Knowing that he'd be limping out of here when it was over, that was the new part (but not new at all, in the bigger scheme of things, not if you looked at it honest).

Dean gritted his teeth and relaxed, and pushed back into it, and rode against and with Cas until he started to feel the slightest warm curlicues of heat low in his belly, a tightening and arc of pleasure, and he felt something drip thickly onto his back. Movement to the side and he turned his head to watch Cas grab a handful of sunny-side-up eggs, heard Cas eating them. Felt more yolk drip onto his back. "Are you fucking kidding me," Dean mumbled, and Cas said, "I wanted eggs."

He slid his oily hand around to Dean's front, below his navel, cradling. "I wanted eggs." Cas' hand pushed in, meaningful, sprawling.

Dean shoved up on his forearm, twisting so he could scowl at Cas, flakes of ice crystallizing in his blood. "Man," he said, "fuck you." They stared at each other for a moment, Cas' hand still spread out over Dean's shivery skin, and then he turned it and slid down to Dean's clit. Watching. Intent and pupil-blown until Dean's angry breathing skipped, turned sideways, melted into puddles of orange.

"I can't heal you," Cas said. He straddled up close, his cock buried all the way inside of Dean's body, finally fucked open enough for this not to hurt the way it had started out. "I don't need it," Dean said, and put his face against the table again. Cas was still for a moment and then started fucking him, rolls of his hips, abandoning that for thick, deep strokes. He dragged over another fistful of egg. Dean opened his mouth.

[elk96]

~THINGS GO SOUTH IN THE SOUTHEAST~ Part Two

Part One: https://www.tumblr.com/elk96/711486597855641600/things-go-south-in-the-southeast-part-one

Characters: Robert Fischer, Maurice Fischer, Uncle Peter (Inception), OCs

Warnings: angst, violence, mentions of death, abduction, mentions of terrorism? Racial stereotypes, English is not my first language, and everything mentioned/ narrated is pure fiction, not an indication or a statement towards a particular race, religion and so on.

"Handcuff him, blindfold him and get rid of that phone", the driver growled. "I don't trust him.

"It's really not necessary", Robert murmured before his phone was destroyed and hands tied behind his back. Just seconds later, a sack fell over his head, wrapping him in a foggy, dark world.

Hours later, or maybe days, -he was so fucking dizzy-, the car pulled over, and a welcome hint of fresh air fiund it's way to his lungs. Robert breathed deeply for the first time in hours, it seemed. A forceful hand pulled him out of the car, and it took two men to keep him standing up. Robert was certain he'd faint anytime soon, but the salty smell of the sea helped ever so slightly. He could even hear the waves fighting to get ahold of each other.

"Move", the man barked and pushed him forward. And yet, no matter how much he hated the shouting, Robert's feet refused to cooperate. He hit the ground violently scratching his knees and palms. The hands pulled him up and the scene was repeated over and over again, until the way to what Robert regarded to be a warehouse, came to an end. A heavy door opened smooththly and the man practically kicked Robert inside untill they crashed him onto a wall. They removed the blindfold and locked him up, leaving him alone, unable to move, or even think of anything. Robert felt numb, as he had always been throughout his life. Only this time, his hands were tied up, and his apartment had been replaced by a nasty, old warehouse.

They’d be looking for him by now. They’d have every public camera checked, every guard asked, the car tracked down. The still functioning part of his brain wondered what-if anything-had happened to Youssef. But most of all he was just thirsty and fucking cold.

A single stripe of sun shed some light to the enormous room. Steps echoed, but Robert was too tired to turn and greet the newcomer.

“Good morning Mr. Fishcer”, said lively a man as he approached him. British. A large one, judging by the shadow cast upon Robert.

I just wanna die, is that too much to ask?, he thought, having to change position. His breath stuck on his throat on seeing the man he’d met in the restrooms. Fucking bastard.

“Forgive us for the lack of hospitality Mr. Fischer, I had some things to attend to”.

Robert looked at him with bloodshot eyes. “What do you want”?

“First of all, I want you alive and functional Mr. Fischer-what’s your name again”?

Hmm, good question. What could his name be? Bernard? William? He looked like a William, didn’t he?

“I suppose you’re thirsty Mr. Fischer”, said the man handing him over a glass of water. It was then that Robert noticed a tray next to him, with bowls and even fruit on it.

He licked his dry lips, trying to hold up resistance a little while longer.

“I’m Freddy Cadwick by the way”, the man continued, extending a large, calloused hand. He exhaled sharply, and then took a pair of keys out of his pockets, to free Robert from his handcuffs.

“Thank you”, Robert murmured, regretting it the moment the word left his mouth. “You know that my name’s Robert, obviously. You knew which hotel I’d rented, so drop your hypocritical formalities! -But at least, you have some creativity when it comes to names, right”?

Freddy’s lips curled upwards slightly.

“Will you take the water before I spill it over your face, Mr, Fischer”?

Robert’s eyes trailed of to the orange on the tray, only to be showered on the cold insides of the glass.

“I’m not bluffing, Mr Fischer. I just wanted you to know that”, said Freddy, quiet tiredly. After some thinking, he took of his jacket and placed it carefully over Robert’s shoulders. Having decided not to fight against the man’s stubbornness, he gave him the bowl of rice and started peeling off the orange. Robert sneezed softly, grabbing the sleeves of the make-shift blanket and licking the juice that flowed down on his skin.

“I’m not a cat, whatever your damn name is”, he said plainly. “What do you expect? You feed me and give me a blanket and I come sit on your lap”?

“Weird cats you have in Sydney, eating oranges and spicy rice”, Freddy murmured, but his hand was to firmly hit Robert on the cheek.

“I’m a busy man, a trained man. Don’t make me prove this to you”.

“I ate all my food, what else do you want”?

“Why are you here?

“To talk to Imran Youssef. My father arranged my meeting him in that gathering”.

“Why”?

“To reinforce business relations”.

“Who sent you”?

“My loving father”.

“Why are you here”.

“To talk to Youssef”.

“Why”?

“To reinforce business relations”.

“Who sent you here”?

“My father, damnit”!

“Damn you Robert, I know someone put his hand on getting you here and I wanna know who it was”!

“Well, so do I! If you figure it out, come and tell me”!, Robert shouted, in a pathetic, broken voice.

“Alright, alright. Let’s start with the simple things. What’s his fucking name”?, Freddy asked shoving his hands in his pockets.

“D’ you think I’d give you credit for nothing? John Smith, one in a fucking million”!

“And he works for the CIA”?

“Probably”.

“And what does he want”?

“Get me killed, most of all”.

A rush of anger ran through Freddy’s face, the dark pupils covering almost entirely the rich brown around them. Robert flinched, but that was all he could do.

“I don’t know what he wants”, he spat.

“Yeah well, we’ll see about that”, his kidnapper went on to say, but he was interrupted by a phone call. “Yes. No he hasn't’t. Put Amir on the phone”.

Robert tried to gain some control over his breathing while Freddy was talking in Arabic with one of his men, apparently. “Bad news for you Mr.Fischer”, he turned to Robert. My boys will take care of you, until your memory improves. If you have anything interesting to tell me, do it now”.

Robert raised his eyebrows watching Freddy walk away. Darkness covered everything once again, and Robert found himself almost missing the rough voice of the stranger. Even more so, when a man walked towards him, full of muscle and wild enthusiasm. The sun had set long ago, but he could feel it.

The man made a comment in his mother tongue on seeing him, eyes wide, voice loud and almost happy. It scared him to bits, Robert, that eagerness to see him. The man sat on a chair he’d dragged in front of him, bouncing on his hands what seemed to be a rubber bat.

“Your name’s Robert, right? You’ll tell me what you know, Robert, and nothing will happen to you. Or I will break your bones”.

“I know nothing, everything happened so fast-I was just sent here, I’m not the boss”, Robert murmured anxiously but something inside of him told him to straighten up his damn posture. Pride’s hard to shed,even when you’re on your fucking knees.

“Well, I wanna know about the boss. Who is he, and why did he sent you here”.

“I don’t know”.

The man stood up, bringing the bat to Robert’s face gently enough not to hit him unconscious.All air was dragged from Robert's lungs, his vision going black for a moment. His head fell behind, as a buzzing sound exploded in his ears.The man sat back on the chair, allowing him to think if all the pain was worth it.

“Why did they send you here”?

“I don’t know”, Robert growled, the next hit on his ribs making him let out a voiceless scream.

“I don’t know”!, he said again, and kept repeating it even when he was completely blinded by the pain and the blood running over his eyes. He kept on whining and shivering all night, bruised and broken but at terms with his ugly fate.

The sound of the door opening left him indifferent. More pain, or death. Nothing he hadn’t known already.

“Good morning Mr. Fischer”, Freddy said, way too loudly for Robert’s smashed skull. He drugged the cursed chair out of his way and sat on the floor, leaving a disc once again by his side.

“How are you holding up Mr. Fischer”?

Robert was currently fighting to breathe through his broken nose, for his mouth was full of blood.

“So, tell me, why did they send you here Mr. Fischer”?, Freddy asked softly and the mere kindness in his tone made Robert break at the possibility of another hour of screams.

“To…to spy…Spy on him”, he whispered, trying to form a coherent thought. And a full sentence would be nice, but everything was black and loud, the air gripping his neck, suffocating him. “Youssef”.

“About what”?

Don’t tell him, don’t tell him, don’t tell him!, everything in his head was shouting. -But he’ll hit you again! -They’ll go to prison, they’ll be killed! He’s your father-but he doesn’t love you Robert. He doesn’t love you.

“I can’t…Can’t take it anymore”, he whined.

Freddy Cadwick rose to his feet, kneeled in front of Robert, touching his hand softly. His fingers were soon covered in Robert’s blood.

“Just tell me Robert, and you won’t have to hurt anymore”.

“They’re my family. My only family”.

“Who, the ones that send you to hell with an expensive ticket”?

“Aren’t you doing the same with a bat”?, Robert mouthed, his voice almost inaudible.

“Yes, but I’m the one here, ready to kill you”.

“I’m already in pain….I won’t be missed-but, but you need…the information…right”?

“Exactly”, Freddy exhaled in an attempt to get rid of that knot in his stomach. He’d gotten rid of that thing years ago, emotions.

Taking a cloth from his disc and damping in on some clean water, he whipped of the last blood stains off of Robert’s face, smoothing his hair back. The American didn’t resist, couldn’t resist, no matter how much he despised him.

“Too much loyalty gets you killed, Mr. Fischer. That’s what I have learned, after all those years in this job. We could make a deal”, Freddy said, tearing a long stripe of black tape with his teeth. He opened Robert’s button up, telling him to exhale before he stuck the stripe across his ribs. “This will help”, he said after three more stripes. “Have you moved at all since they threw you in this shithole”?

Robert pressed his lips in a straight, unforgiving line, and kept staring at the man’s face for a long moment. He’d grown up alone, distanced from everyone. Touch-starved and dead inside, his glassy blue eyes were piercing, almost threatening in a way. ‘Cause Freddy knew that he’d have to be honest with him if he wanted him on his side.

“If you think they’re ever gonna find you, you’re mistaken mate. Same goes for hoping your dad’s company is gonna come out of this clean.

“You consider yourself heartless”, Robert answered after a long pause, “but you’d be surprised by how much I do not care”. The harsh treatment had broken him, and then right away changed him, shredded him of any bit of emotional attachment he had left.

Funny, isn’t it? How people change, in the span of a night.

“You could work for us, Mr. Fischer. Double agent. Whisper to the CIA our lies, and tell us what he knows. Your heritage is conserved, your well-being, your very life… All back to normal’.

“Become a pawn in your games huh? Blackmailed for life and stuff”?

“Would you rather die in a rusty building and never be found”?

“You could throw me in the sea. I love the sea,-it wouldn’t be so bad as a last residence right”?

“So you do love something after all”.

Robert tilted his head back, hissing in pain. Pain. It flooded his head, rushed through every inch of his body, just the same as the cold water would embrace him: mercilessly.

“Just kill me already, will you”?, he whined, he begged.

“So it is true, what my mom used to say”, Freddy answered kneeling in front of him, searching in his eyes for a reason to punch him dead in place. “You will do as we agreed”, he said combing Robert’s hair with his fingers. “You should get some rest, big times are ahead. Come on Mr. Fischer”, he breathed, picking up the remains of what used to be a young man.

Quite roughly for Robert’s broken ribs, he dragged him all the way outside, where a black car was parked. Shoving him into the back seat, Freddy drove silently towards the sea coast. He pulled over and lowered the dark windows of the car to reveal an abandoned dock. The sea was glistening under the golden rays of the sun, bewitching them both. Tall buildings and palm trees were standing on the land against them, the trees leaning to the right over the force of the sea breeze.

“Life’s good, innit mate”?, Freddy asked, turning his head.

Robert was handing on the car’s door, taking in the fresh air, despite the pain.

“Depends. Are you going to kill me or not”?

“No. I’m gonna let the CIA put you in a cell and have their most excited employees violate your human rights”.

“Alright then. I’ve shaken hands with criminals before”, Robert sighed.

“The sea air knocked some sense back to you Mr. Fischer ''.

“Looks that way. Are we gonna stay here forever, the two of us”?

“Oh no. It’s time for the one ring to be found”.

“The what”?

“Don’t you billionaires have time for movies”?

“No. We usually get kidnapped in those”, Robert whispered, clutching his sides.

Freddy left out a breathy laugh. It was a pleasure, talking in English with people he could have somewhat of an understanding. But of course, that was not what he said to Amir when he called him.

“I’ll need you to lay down now Mr. Fischer”, he said after the last details were set. But he wasn’t treated with an answer, for Robert had fainted.

Trash took itself out, Freddy thought instinctively while covering Robert with a small blanket. He couldn’t risk people recognising the American while he was driving around Abu Dhabi. Maurice Fischer would have definitely sent men looking for him. Along with that CIA character, John Smith. He better make sure no-one followed him on his way to his hideout.

[fakeloveaskblog]

(Hi, me again. A short ask because I way struggling to figure out what to say.)

Hey Remy, how are you doing? I just wanted to let you know that they honestly aren’t mad at you, they aren’t trying to lull you into a false sense of security, they genuinely care about you and want to help you.

Glow Eyes

"Oh you know girlie...Just doing like greeat" Remy replied, voice dripping with sarcasm "I'm in my prime fucking years"

The pain from the overdose was too overbearing to allow them to move out of bed and they were too weak to walk even if they did manage to get out of bed. Their lip quivered as they closed their eyes tightly. They were so goddamn tired of being stuck in their own body.

Still they listened to you. Even as their limbs fell away into feeling like numb clouds and their mind became a dissociated mess of decades old memories mixing together with the smell of hospital sheets.

"You know them. Are you sure they're not like mad? Really like totally 100% sure?"

Remy turned their head to look at you as they said it. Tears were pressing on making their eyes look glossy like a newly polished pearl. You nodded while glowing a warm orange to reassure them.

"I'm so tired of being scared" A quivering breathe left their lips "I'm so tired. I just wanna like sleep and let someone else sort out my life in the meantime"

There was a sour taste in their mouth as they forced back the tears. Their hand absentmindedly moved up to feel the bruises around their neck. It felt like a necklace, or maybe a medal, showing that their pain wasn't just imagined.

A short knock came on the already half opened door "Good morning princess on the pea" Rowan greeted with a warm tone "I told dukey mayyybe you wanted some alone time. Whenever I get home from some gala and everyone been grabbig me all night all I wanna do is be alone. Guessing its similar after a hospital visit eh?"

Remy nodded.

"Mhm. I got the glass of water dukey made you and uh" She lifted her leg to show that attached to her lower calf was Ms. Carl "A snake?"

She set the glass on the bed side table while letting ms. Carl slide off onto the bed. The snake slithered up and folded herself like a crown around Remy's head. They were sure Janus had told them snakes only cuddled to get warm so they didn’t understand why the snake would want to be with them right now when they were freezing cold even under layers of blankets. They didn’t say no to it though.

"robe?" Rowan held forward a soft red robe with lace on the sleeves "I never leave the house without an emergency robe. I noticed there was some...fluids left on your clothes so if you want to change" She shrugged “You can take mine”

Remy forced their dry lips apart to let out a weak "Thanks"

They pushed themself to sit up and pulled off their torn shirt before pulling the robe around themself. It was soft like a plushie and warm like a hug while smelling of peaches and strawberries.

"Did you want those?" Rowan asked as she sat down on the edge of the bed. She nodded her head slightly towards their chest.

Remy had been too dissociated to think about her being able to see their chest. The mess of hickeys and bruises with dried blood on some places. They lowered their eyes and pulled the robe closer around themself.

"....I consented to it"

"But did you want them?"

"..I....I wanted to be hurt.."

Rowan nodded before standing back up "If you need anything just yell. I’m an actress so i have met a Lot of coked up people. Don’t worry about annoying me. I’ve seen worse"

She left without another word and Remy sunk back into the pillow. Ms Carl pressed her head against their cheek which made them pat her long body.

They took a spoonful of the cold water. It ran down their throat like snow in a desert. It took immense force not to immediately gulp down the entire glass since they knew they wouldn’t be able to keep it down. Just the small sip made their stomach turn inside out.

Light shone in through the cracked open door and they could hear the slightly muffled sound of Janus reading aloud from a murder mystery book while Remus commented every now and again.

A minute passed, then 15 minutes, then half an hour, then the time spilled out over the bed like flowing water. Remy managed to finish most of the water but their mouth felt just as parched.

Their cane stood leant against the bedside table. Remy pushed themself up with the cane and walked like a scarred deer out into the living room. Ms. Carl followed them closely behind, fastening her pace when they stumbled. 

Remus had his head leant against Janus’ shoulder where they sat on the couch. While Rowan had found one of Jan’s history books and was skimming through it to get to the part about knights and swords.

“Me and Logie are planning on going to see some live spiders at the zoo next week by the way” Remus said “If you wanna come along?”

“Trying to steal my man now” Janus snarked back.

“It’s just for art thingies! His big brain is like super good for some of my installation ideas. Like he’s been texting to me about all of these-”

Remus’ words withered off as he looked up and saw Remy. Without a word he got up and let them lean against his side as he saw how pale and shaky they were.

“Hiya beanie. Wanna join us for some unopoly?”

“I wanna leave” They replied in a short tone.

Rowan sat aside her book and glanced over to Janus “...Darling I’m not going to force you to stay any other time aside from right now. You...You were just in the hospital so you must understand if we can’t let you leave in good conscious. You’re not even wearing shoes” He said in a calm voice.

“Yeah, you should probably wait until you’re feeling a bit better” Rowan agreed.

“Viv also said I should wait till I felt better before I could leave and that kept me isolated in side that fucking apartment for months on end-”

“Wasn’t he like saying that about you getting better from the pain he was causing you? and him making your fibro worse? This is-”

“You’re expecting too much of me” Remy bit out “I’m just gonna leave you disappointed at best and angry at worse”

“I’m not expecting Anything from you darling. I like you as you are now and I will like you even if you change” Janus replied “Right?”

“Yeah!” Remus added on.

“You’re expecting me to gET BETTER! WHICH I WON’T! LIKE EVEN IF I HEAL FROM THE OVERDOSE I’M JUST GONNA GO INTO WITHDRAWAL WHICH WILL BE JUST AS BAD AND I WON’T WANNA BE SOBER WHEN THAT HAPPENS! AND I WON’T GET BETTER! NOT MENTALLY EITHER! I’M JUST LIKE THIS NOW! FOREVER! AND MY FIBRO WILL NEVER GET BETTER EITHER! I WILL NEVER GET BETTER!”

A blank look fell over Remus’ eyes as he froze because of the sudden yelling. Remy’s furious expression mellowed out when they noticed his stare and they lightly patted his hand.

“....but...i....i guess i can like stay for now...i...i’m getting a cig”

They easily shook away their friend’s touch and stumbled away while Remus slumped back down next to his sister. Right as Remy opened the door to the balcony Janus grabbed onto the door right above where they held their hand. He met their eyes.

“Can we talk?” Janus asked “Without you running off this time please. I understand discussing these kinds of things can be troubling but I want us to just listen to each other for once”

“I’d planned on chain smoking anyway” Remy grumbled back.

Janus made sure to close the balcony door behind them to give the two of them some privacy. Remy sat down on the railing of the balcony and lit a cigarette. They looked out at the grey clouds filling the sky while he dragged the only plastic stool on the balcony over so he could sit near them in case they fell.

“I love you darling. You know that right?”

Remy rolled their eyes “Girl I’ve never seen anyone be this like obvious bout their crushes. And I love you too. Obviously. I would have already run off somewhere if I didn’t”

“I just want to ask you if you think it would be a good idea to..” Janus searched for words while leaning their arms against Remy’s knees “To actually start dating?”

“Why wouldn’t we? Unless you think you would” They took a blow from the cigarette “You would get tired of me?”

“That’s not it at all deary. I’m afraid entering a new relationship so soon after leaving such a long painful one maybe wouldn’t be good for you?”

Remy looked at them as if they’d just said the most horrific sentence ever imagined “That’s just an excuse isn’t it? That- That- You just’ve realized you can’t deal with me-”

“Shh darling that’s not it either” Janus said softly as he moved his fingers up and down their knee “No running on assumptions please?”

They took another drag from the cig while nodding.

“Would...Would you like to say the reasons for why you think I would ever get tired of you? Maybe it will help you feel at ease if I debunk some of your lying dummy thoughts?”

“Well first of” They took a shuddering breathe “I’m just gonna be like a total burden to you. I’m not gonna be able to like work and you’re just gonna have to like help me with stupid shit all the time”

“I don’t mind helping you deary, and even if I did I’ve had to help you the entire time I’ve known you and I haven’t gotten tired of you have I”

“I’m not gonna get better. There’s no cure for fibro. I think- I think I might just get worse”

“I’m aware. I have read up on it you know. And I also know that there are better crutches and wheelchairs to help you. If you are so inclined to ‘not be useless’ I’m sure that could help you to maybe be able to start working a bit?”

“Yeah- Yeah well- I’m annoying- I-” They put out the cigarette against the railing and immediately lit another “I’m overemotional and I still get upset about stupid shit that happened years ago. I cry too much and babble on about stupid shit non stop and- and I- I...” 

Their words trailed off as they kept looking for more proof that they were awful.

“I’m bad at sex” Remy said bluntly “Viv always got annoyed ‘cause I like have to stop in the middle ‘cause of pain or I start crying or- or- I’m just bad at it. Like all I can do is be used I can’t do like anything more- and- and even more now when- I- I let people use me- and- I’m-”

“The concept of a high body count being negative is a sham and I do not care. Unless you have done Guinness world records levels of sleeping around for the past few days I doubt you have even been with more people than I have” Janus replied just as bluntly while holding back the urge to snark out something mean about Virgil and instead pressed a kiss to their knee “Excuse my french but, well are you interested in having sex?”

Remy shrugged “I don’t wanna be a burden. I wanna be like a good partner”

“Being a ‘good’ partner doesn’t depend on that. If you do want to I am sure we have enough creativity between the two of us to make it less painful for you and if you don’t that’s not an issue. I still have Logan and even if I didn’t have another boyfriend I’m an adult Remy, I can take care of my own urges. I’m not a man baby”

“Why would you like want a broken partner?”

“This might surprise you but unless it’s a dildo I don’t consider anything ‘broken’ if it can’t or don’t want to perform sexual acts” Janus replied in a sarcastic tone which managed to make Remy chuckle a little.

“You do realize I’m not gonna just like be fixed by some kisses right? Like girl it’s not like- like even know when we’re talking all I wanna do is like run away and get high and get used so I like feel less like a burden and loved and like I’m...like I’m not like..I’m not just gonna be okay”

Janus gave them the warmest smile he could “I know darling. I know. I still love you and I’ll still stay with you”

“Even if I like never get better?”

“While I doubt you could never become better with proper help and time to heal yes I would still stay. I’m sure if you went to rehab they would be experts on making sure your withdrawal wouldn’t be as painful-” He saw Remy’s expression immediately lower and quickly added “And until you’re ready for that you said the watchers can supply you with safe doses didn’t you? And if you ever feel like you need to.....be used...to feel loved you can just come to me and I can reassure you honey darling until you feel better”

Remy’s hands shook a little as they reached out and took Janus’ hands in theirs. Tears were pressing on at the edges of their eyes as they looked at him as if they were about to reveal the most horrendous secret.

“I think I wanna go on hormones” They whispered out. “J-just like- like- just a-a small dose-”

“Neat! I am about to have two big boobied partners! I know you haven’t seen Logan shirtless so I have to make you aware that he is chest blessed” Janus exclaimed.

A tear rolled down Remy’s cheek before they erupted into shrill laughter. They tried to cover their face with their hand to quiet their laughter but Janus just nudged his nose against their cheek which made them laugh harder.

Until their laughter turned into shuddering sobs. Remy moved down from the railing and let Janus move his arms around them as they continued to sob into the crock of his neck. The sobs mixed with half hearted chuckles as their snot fell down onto the collar of his shirt.

“I- I’ve been so- so like so scared” They cried out “I’m so- I’m so fucking scared and like I- I’m just so t-tired of being scared all the time. I’m so- I’m so fucking tired”

Janus stroked his hand up and down their back while mumbling out sweet nothings. He felt how their whole body trembled from exhaustion the entire time they cried. It was an ugly cry. The sort that leaves only after the painful headache has already started. The sort that continues to blotch the face even hours afterwards. The sort that leaves the throat feeling like a raw wound.

But Janus held them all through out it. After all he knew they had a lot of tears to get out. He pressed a kiss into their hair and felt how the affection made them shudder.

After the sobs had started to grow quiet Remy finally rose their head again and looked at Janus. Their eyes were still stark red from crying as they asked “What about you?”

“Me?”

“Do you...Do you have any like I dunno like doubts about the like whole dating thing?” Their voice was hoarse and raspy.

“I’m only worried I will accidentally hurt you...So I would really appreciate it if you would do your best to tell me if I upset you or, or well if I’m simply being a jerk”

“I know you’re not Vivsie. I like I wanna do my best to remember you’re not him that like he- that we weren’t like- that our relationship wasn’t like normal”

“It’s a pair effort” Janus replied with a smile.

“I don’t want you to like become my like therapist or like caretaker y’know. If we’re dating I want you to be like my partner. I’m just worried I’mma like be such a burden-”

“Never a burden” He reminded.

“Be so unstable you’re gonna have to like take care of me but I don’t want that”

“Pair effort?”

Remy chuckled “Pair effort!”

They held up their hand and he high fived them before letting their fingers intertwine and pressing a kiss against the top of their hand. It made them giggle which only made him smile even more.

Janus stroked his thumb against their cheek and met their eyes. Neither of them said anything for a little bit. They simply looked at the other, like it was the first time they’d seen them. Until Remy leaned in and kissed him.

It was just a light kiss, a quick one. But it was followed by another and another and smiles and laughter and Janus nervously testing out saying “My partner” to which he started to blush like a stoplight which only made Remy laugh harder and kiss him more.

“Can we like take a bath now or something” Remy chuckled out while throwing their arms around his shoulders “I still- I got like bruises and like blood and like gross cum from the past days and I wanna like get it off of me”

“Sure darling. Deary. My partner. My lover”

Remy snorted “Shut up you stupid ass boytoy partner”

“I’m going to get you the finest bath this side of Canada and then either a very fancy or very frightening dinner depending on if me or Remus cook and then a wonderful night’s sleep in your one and only boytoy partner’s bed and then when your mind is feeling a bit clearer we can talk more about going to rehab or not. Sounds good?”

“My girlboy, that sounds like toots great!”

[waitimcomingtoo]

Obedience

Part two 

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: after being tortured by HYDRA, you have to obey every command given to you

warnings: mentions of suicide

Masterlist

“How is she?”

Steve stared at you with sad eyes, watching your through the glass window on your door. It had been three months since HYDRA captured you during a mission. In those three months, they put you through a form of torture worse than the team could imagine. You’d finally be found and had been staying in the hospital until your vitals were stable.

“Not good.” The nurse sighed. “She doesn’t say much. Eye contact is even more rare.”

“Do you know what they did to her?”

“It’s unclear.” The nurse said. “She has no physical injuries. She doesn’t like it when we turn the lights off, though. We think they kept her in the dark.”

“Can I see her?” He asked, without taking his eyes off you.

“You can.” She nodded. “We can’t promise she’ll speak to you.”

“I’m gonna try.” Steve smiled at the nurse before going into your room. You jumped slightly and withdrew your knees to your chest at the sudden noise of the door opening.

“Hey Y/n.” Steve smiled at you as he slid his hands in his pockets. “It’s good to see you.”

“Hey, captain.” You slowly unfurled your body at the sight of someone familiar. Steve went to close the door behind him, but you protested.

“Wait, don’t close the door. They used to…” You trailed off and seemed to space out, so Steve took his hands away from the door.

“It’s okay.” He assured you. “I’ll leave it open.”

“Thank you.” You mumbled quietly.

“No problem. Mind if I sit here?” He asked as he pointed to a chair by your bed.

“Yes, sir.” You nodded stiffly.

“How are you feeling?” He asked as he took a seat.

“Not great.” You smiled weakly and rubbed the side of your head. “They uh, they fucked up my head, sir.”

“I heard. Here.” He handed you a bottle of juice he grabbed from the cafeteria. “You should drink something.”

“Thank you, sir.” You didn’t look at him as you accepted the bottle. You took a long sip and grimaced after you swallowed it.

“Whats wrong?” He asked when he saw the look of disgust on your face.

“I hate orange juice.” You confessed as you took another sip.

“Then why are you drinking it?” He wondered. “I have water right here.”

You took the glass of water and briefly looked him in the eyes, giving him a weak smile.

“It’s HYDRA. They got inside my head.” You whimpered. “I cant say no to something, even when I want to.”

“Oh.” Steves face fell as you told him. “Don’t worry about this, Y/n. I’m gonna figure out how to fix you.”

“Okay.” You said cheerfully, sitting up straight with a bright smile. Your body language did not match your sudden chipper mood, and it alarmed Steve.

“Woah, what happened?”

“You told me not to worry.” You said sadly. His eyes widened as he realized the extent of your condition. He found it deeply disturbing to watch you, knowing your smile was fake, but kept a straight face.

“Right, sorry.” He nodded. “You can relax.”

With that, your body slumped and you fell over on the bed. You looked at him sadly as you laid there, looking anything but relaxed.

“This might be harder than I thought.”

~

When Peter heard the car door close, he rushed to the window. He stopped sleeping the first night you were gone and stoped eating when you were legally declared dead a month later.

“There you are.” Peter rushed away from the window to Steve. “Is Y/n with you? Is she okay?”

“She’s with me but she’s not okay.” Steve said quietly, giving Peter a stern look that told him to relax.

“Why?” He felt himself getting emotional. “What did they…”

He trailed off when you walked through the front door looking skinnier and smaller than ever. Peter let out a breath of relief as tears came to his eyes. You didn’t look at him, but he was staring at you.

“Hey.” You said weakly, slowly lifting your eyes to look at him.

“Hey.” Peter said back, wiping his face free of tears. “I missed you. I’ve been really worried. I, uh, how are you? How are you feeling?”

“Tired.” You nodded. “I’m just gonna go to sleep, if that’s all right?”

You looked to Steve for permission, which he wasn’t expecting. Peter looked between the two of you in confusion.

“Yeah, of course.” Steve told you. “You can do anything you want.”

“Thank you, sir.” You said softly.

“Are you sure?” Peter asked. “You’ve been gone for so long. You should eat something”.

You immediately stopped in your tracks and went to the kitchen. Peter watched as you robotically took an orange from the fruit bowl and began to peel it with shaking hands.

“Whats happened?” He whispered to Steve. “Why is she doing that?”

“Thanks to whatever HYDRA did to her, she obeys every command given to her.” Steve whispered back as he watched you.

“That wasn’t a command.” Peter told him. “I was just suggesting that she eat something. She looks so hallow.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Steve shrugged. “She just has to do what she’s told.”

“Is she in pain?” Peter asked him as he watched you with guilty eyes.

“Not physically.” Steve shook his head. “I think it’s hurting her on the inside. A lot.”

“Really?” Peter asked sadly. You had now finished your orange and sat waiting for further instruction.

“May I go to bed now, please?” You asked, uncharacteristically spoke spoken.

“Yeah.” Steve smiled softly at you. “You don’t have to ask.”

“Thank you.” You nodded before running off your room. Once you were gone, Steve hung his head in his hands and let out a long sign. Peter watched him curiously, not used to seeing him show this kind of emotion. He looked up with glassy eyes and looked at Peter, shaking his head sadly.

Two months since HYDRA

“Good morning”. You greeted Peter as you sat next to him at the kitchen table. It was a rare morning when you were out of your room, and an even rarer moment to see you smiling.

“Hey.” Peter smiled brightly at you. “How’d you sleep?”

“Um.” You bit your lip as you thought back on your restless night. “Fine. Just had a few bad dreams.”

“Do you want to talk about them?” Peter asked politely.

“I would prefer not to, if that’s okay?” You asked him as if it was up to him. It pained him to see you asking permission for everything.

“Then we won’t.” He assured you. “Do you want some cereal?”

“You mean you didn’t eat it all?” You teased, showing a glimmer of your usual self.

“Shut up.” He chuckled as he nudged you. You instantly shut your mouth, looking frustrated with yourself for doing so.

“Sorry.” Peter apologized immediately. “I didn’t mean it like that. You can speak.”

“Thank you, sir.” You cleared your throat, all traces of the person Peter once knew reverting back inside.

“You don’t have to thank me.” He said softly as he rubbed your shoulder. “And you don’t have to call me “sir.” It’s just me. Just Peter.”

“Can we just change the subject?” You asked him, looking at him with pain filled eyes.

“Yeah.” Peter nodded. “Are you coming in the mission later?”

“Yeah.” Your smile returned again. “Mr. Stark cleared me for work last night.”

“Thats great.” Peter smiled back. “I’ve missed my partner in crime.”

“I missed you to.” Your smile faded a little. “Thinking about you was what got me through when they…you know.”

“I thought about you too.” Peter put his hand over yours and rubbed his thumb softly on your knuckle. “Every day. Nothing else would enter my mind.”

“Do you think I’m ever gonna be normal again?” You whispered as you leaned closer to him.

“I do.” Peter nodded, tilting his face to the side as he inches closer. “It’s all going to be okay.”

Peter your lips could touch, Sam walked in the room with a bowl of cereal. He was one of the Avengers who assumed you and Peter had gotten together years ago, so he didn’t feel bad interrupting your moment.

“Ew.” Sam snorted. “Don’t do that in front of my cereal.”

You immediately pulled away, physically having to obey Sam. You sighed angrily and looked at Peter with sad eyes before getting up.

“Y/n.” Peter called after you, not wanting you to leave but not wanting to give you a command. You kept walking, not wanting to talk about what happened.

You didn’t bring up the almost kiss all day, which Peter was grateful for. You acted normal around him at the mission, too excited to be working again to think about the awkward moment. You focused on completing your task and got through most of the mission without a problem.

“I got the vials.” You proudly held up three stolen vials of Pym particles to show Peter. He finished webbing the security guard and smiled at you.

“Nice job.” Peter high fived you. “Hank is gonna be so relieved.”

“I know. Come on we gotta go.”

You and Peter began to run towards the jet when you tripped an alarm by accident. A guard came out of the watchtower and shined a flashlight on you, making you run faster.

“Hey!” He shouted. “Stop right there!”

Your face scrunched in frustration as your feet stuck to the floor. You tried to keep running but you were stuck in place.

“What are you doing?” Peter exclaimed when he noticed you weren’t behind him. “We have to go!”

“I can’t move!” You shook your head angrily. “He told me to stop.”

“We gotta go.” Peter quickly scooped you up and ran with you. You held on to him and hid your face in his neck, not wanting him to see how upset you were. Peter ran all the way back to the jet and climbed inside.

“What happened to you two?” Tony asked as Peter set you down. You turned around and punched the wall out of anger as Peter watched you.

“He told Y/n to stop so she had to obey.” Peter said quietly, making Tony’s face fall. You turned around and nodded, looking angry with yourself.

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” Tony sighed. “But until we get this figured out-“

“I can’t go on the missions.” You nodded, already knowing what was coming.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized.

“Yeah.” You sighed and kept your eyes down. “I’m sorry too.”

Eight months since HYDRA

“Where are you?” Peter called you to ask when he didn’t find you in the tower. You were usually waiting for him when he came from patrol, but you were nowhere to be found today.

“I’m at some store downtown.” You answered as you turned down a street corner.

“Alone?” Peter worried.

“It’s fine, Peter.” You assured him. “I was going crazy sitting in the tower all day. I needed to go out.” You sighed.

“It’s not safe for you to be outside when you can’t say no to anything.” Peter reasoned. “I can think of a million bad things that can happen. You shouldn’t be alone.”

Your feet started moving before you had a chance to process what he said and you planted yourself next to the first person you saw. You smiled awkwardly at the man and tried to walk away, but you were stuck. Peter told you not to be alone, so you had to obey.

“Nothing bad is going to happen.” You assured him. “No one knows about my condition.”

“Can I at least meet you where you are?” He asked, careful not to give you a command. “It will make me feel better.”

“Okay, fine.” You agreed. “You can meet me here.”

“Okay. Thank you.” Peter sighed in relief. “I’ll see you soon.”

You tried to walk again and were able to this time. You started walking down an alleyway to find a store to meet Peter at when you heard a mans voice behind you.

“Hey.” He called. “Slow down.”

You started walking slower despite your inner protest and felt your heart rate pick up. The footsteps behind you got faster and soon you were joined by the man from earlier.

“I overheard you on the phone.” He began. “Is it true you say yes to everything?”

“I’m sorry, I have to go.” You gave him a tight smile and continued walking slowly.

“Answer my question.” He called after you.

“It’s true.” You blurted, always having to obey. You began to sweat as he caught up to you again and began to toy with your hair.

“Interesting.” He remarked. “Spin around.”

You shut your eyes in frustration and spun around in a circle, earning an amused laugh.

“Wow.” He clapped his hands. “Isn’t that amazing?”

“I really have to go.” You told him. “Please just leave me alone.”

You started walking away again, allowed to run now since his original command wore off.

“Stop.” You heard his voice, and you had to stop.

“So it’s true.” He smirked as he circled around you. “You do obey everything. Even when you don’t want to?”

You stayed silent and kept your eyes down, praying he’d get bored and leave.

“Answer me.” He got too close to you to say into your ear.

“Yes.” You answered in a weak voice.

“I could have fun with this.” He smiled and folded his arms. He stared at you for a minute before tracing his finger along the side of your face. You tried to move but you stayed still.

“You don’t want to do this.” You told him. Your threat was pretty empty without your suit or your free will. If you tried to fight him, he could just tell you to stop.

“Aw, but I do.” He pouted. “You’re pretty when you threaten me. But it would sound a lot better if you had a smile on.”

You smiled against your will, feeling a hot flash of embarrassment.

“That’s better.” He talked to you like you were a child. “Now, walk with me.”

You began to walk side by side with him, having no idea where he was taking you. You passed some police officers on the street and tried to make eye contact.

“Don’t say anything.” He mumbled in your ear. “Keep your eyes down.”

You did as you were told and continued walking with him until you reached a black van.

“Get in the car.” He said, and you began to climb in. You tried to fight the urge to climb into the car, gripping the side and pushing yourself back. Your need to obey commands overtook your instincts and you got in the car.

“There we go. Now buckle your seatbelt and-“

Before he could finish his sentence, he was kicked in the head. You peeked your head out of the car and saw Peter punching the man in the face.

“Jeez, dude. Where are you manners?” Peter asked as he shook out his hand. He webbed the man to the ground and dialed 911 before turning to you.

“Peter.” You breathed in relief, forgetting he was supposed to meet you. Peter pulled you out of the car and hugged you tightly. You squeezed him back, grateful he was overprotective today.

“Are you okay?” He asked. “I heard him as I was swinging over.”

“What do you think?” You asked, suddenly getting angry. “Do you know how bad that could have been?”

“I know.” Peter nodded. “But it’s okay now.”

“Why does everyone keep saying this is okay?” You let go of Peter and backed away. “I have no free will. Do you know how it feels to not be the one in control?”

“I don’t. And I’m sorry.” He tried to calm you down. “But the team is doing everything they can to fix you. Just calm down.”

Your frown immediately faded as your shoulders relaxed, calming down against your will.

“I’m sorry.” Peter realized what he did. “I didn’t mean that as a command.”

“It doesn’t matter.” You shrugged sadly. “I still have to obey.”

“This won’t last forever.” He promised you. “But you shouldn’t go anywhere alone until we figure this out.”

“Great.” You laughed humorlessly. “So I already have to obey commands, and now I need a leash. HYDRA turned me into a fucking dog.”

“I’m sorry.” Peter mumbled, not sure what else to say. “I wish I could help you.”

“Stop apologizing. It’s not your fault.” You said without looking at him. He could tell you didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

“I know. I’m sorry.” He apologized again before realizing what he said. “Shoot. Sorry. Let’s just go home.”

Your body jerked forward and you started moving in the direction of the tower. Peter squeezed his eyes shut, cursing himself for giving you a command.

“I didn’t mean-“ He began as he jogged beside you.

“Whatever.” You cut him off, not wanting another apology. “It’s fine. Let’s just go home.”

~

You didn’t want Peter to think you were mad at him from the other day, so you went to his room to talk. He couldn’t be blamed for what happened with the man on the street, and you couldn’t be blamed for the anger it caused you. To make sure everything was okay, you knocked on his door and went it when you heard his voice.

“Hey, Pete. What are you up to?” You asked as you took a seat on his bed.

“I’m trying to fix the calibration on my web shooter. I couldn’t get a web out fast enough today.” He grumbled as he tweaked the wires that were popping out of his web shooter.

“Did something happen?” You worried, examining his face for injuries. He froze and looked up at you with guilty eyes.

“Um, kinda.” He answered before pulling up his shirt to reveal a deep, poorly bandaged wound.

“You got stabbed?” Your eyes widened. “Again?”

“You would not believe how fast knives have gotten.” Peter defended himself.

“I probably wouldn’t.” You shrugged. “It’s been five months since I’ve been on a mission.”

“Sorry.” He grimaced. “I didn’t mean to bring it up.”

“It’s fine, Peter.” You shrugged it off. “Let me bandage you up. That’s not sanitary.”

“You don’t have to.” He told you and you gave him a look.

“But you can if you want.” He followed up. You had broken your habit of asking for permission for everything, but you were still sensitive about commands. You got up and got some of his medical supplies from his top drawer, knowing exactly where they were. You sat back on his bed and helped him pull his shirt over his head, pretending not to notice the way he flushed to his ears. You carefully removed his bandages and poured some hydrogen peroxide on a Cotten ball.

“This is gonna sting.” You said quietly as you looked in his eyes.

“Okay. Hold my hand, please?” He asked shyly as he uncurled his hand. You slipped your hand into his before you had time to process what he said.

“Wow.” You teased. “Using my condition against me, I see.”

“Well you’ve been isolating yourself so I’m taking advantage of my time with you.” Peter said, giving your hand a squeeze. “I miss you.”

“Yeah.” You squeezed back. “I miss you too.”

You smiled at him before dabbing the Cotten ball on his wound. You bandaged it tightly, smoothing your hand over his side to secure the gauze.

“Thanks.” He mumbled, never taking his eyes off you. “It feels better already.”

“No problem.” You smiled shyly. “How’s the web shooter coming along?”

“Let’s see.” Peter snapped out of his daze and picked his shooter back up. “Okay, be honest-“

“I like you.” You blurted, immediately slapping a hand over your mouth. Peter looked up in shock at your confession and dropped the shooter on his lap.

“What?” He asked, an involuntary smile breaking out into his face.

“I’m sorry. You said “be honest” and I must’ve taken it as a command.” You stammered as you got off his bed. “I’ll leave.”

“Wait! Don’t go.” Peter protested, making you stop in place. “I mean, I hope you don’t go.”

You were released from the command and found yourself able to move but not wanting to.

“I would appreciate it if you sat back down on my bed.” He said quietly, and you purposefully obliged.

“You don’t have to phrase everything like that.” You told him as you sat back down.

“I don’t want to give you any more commands.” He said softly. You gave him an appreciative smile and handed him his shirt, realizing he never put it back on. Peter thanked you and pulled it over his head, leaving his curly hair tousled and adorable.

“Do you really like me?” He asked quietly as he nervously pulled at his fingers.

“I do.” You nodded, finding no use in denying it. “That wasn’t exactly the way I wanted to tell you, but I do.”

“Well I’m not complaining.” Peter shrugged, making you laugh. “I personally think that was a perfect way to break the news.”

“Break the news.” You laughed again at his wording. “I’m not pregnant, Peter. Just in love with your dorky ass.”

“You’re so mean.” He laughed and shoved your slightly. You leaned into him as you came back from the shove, your faces almost touching.

“Kiss me.” He whispered as he looked into your eyes. You did as you were told, but it didn’t feel like a command. It felt like something you had been waiting for for years.

Peter kissed you back to the best of his ability, but his emerging smile kept getting in his way. He relaxed enough to stop smiling and put his hands on your face, kissing you the way he’d always wanted to. When you pulled away, he was finally able to let that smile out.

“Did you do that because you wanted to or because you were obeying me?” He asked softly.

“I promise, I wanted to.” You told him before pulling him into another kiss.

Ten months since HYDRA

“Y/n, please. I would like to talk about this.” Peter called after you as the two of you barged in the front door. Tony quickly stopped eating his lunch to eavesdrop on your fight.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Peter.” You grumbled as you walked past the kitchen. “Don’t follow me.”

“What happened?” Tony got up to stop you. “Are you hurt?”

You stayed quiet as you stared at Tony with pained eyes, feeling too embarrassed to explain what had happened.

“Do you want to tell him?” Peter asked quietly from behind you, not wanting to upset you anymore than you already were.

“I crashed my car.” You stated as you kept a straight face. You were just waiting for Tony to take away your driving privileges, one of the few things you had left.

“What?” He asked. “How?”

“It was my fault.” Peter began and you rolled your eyes. “She was bummed out about her condition so I told her to keep her head up and-“

“And I did.” You laughed humorlessly. “I kept it up so I couldn’t see the road and I nearly killed someone. I could’ve killed you!” You screamed at Peter.

“But you didn’t.” He said back, trying to stay calm. “It’s okay, really-“

“It’s not okay! Stop saying it’s okay!” You shouted as you tugged at your hair. “I can’t live like this anymore.”

“We’re working on a cure.” Tony assured you. “We’re going to-“

“To what? To fix me?” You asked. “You’ve been saying that for almost a year and I’m still like this. I can’t work, I can’t drive, I can’t go anywhere alone. What am I doing?”

“These things take time.” Tony said calmly but you weren’t having it.

“I don’t have time. I almost killed Peter today.” Your voice came out hoarse. “I nearly got myself killed a few months ago. If you don’t have a cure by next week, then…”

“Then what?” Peter interrupted, but you kept your back to him.

“Then it’s time to start thinking about my other options.” You said, only to Tony.

“What other options?” Peter asked but Tony knew exactly what you were talking about.

“It’s too soon to start thinking about that.” Tony stated. “Bruce and I are getting closer every day.”

“You said I had a year.” You reminded him. “It’s been a year.”

“It’s been 10 months.” Tony retorted.

“What are you talking about?” Peter asked again, getting more worried by the second.

“You promised.” You whispered. “You promised me we could talk about this if you couldn’t find a cure.”

“Talk about what?” Peter questioned, but was again ignored.

“I will find a cure.” Tony promised. “You just have to give me some more time.”

“I’m out of time. And so are you.” You angrily pointed at him.

“Screw this.” Peter sighed and jumped to drastic measures. “Y/n, tell me what you’re talking about.”

“Mr. Stark said he could euthanize me if he didn’t find a cure in a year.” You blurted. You turned around slowly and looked at Peter with betrayal in your eyes. He was too focused on what you just admitted to see the extent of what he had done.

“What?” He yelled. “You said what?”

“It’s none of your business, Peter.” You snapped. “How could you use my condition against me like that? You had no right to give me a command. You knew I’d have to obey it.”

“I’m sorry, I panicked.” He apologized. “You want to kill yourself?”

“You have no idea what pain I’m in every day.” You shook your head. “I gave it a year and I’m still miserable.”

“Miserable?” He whispered, taking your words personally. He knew you were still in pain, but he thought you’d been better since you started dating. Your words made him believe he was wrong. You noticed the sadness in his eyes and sighed, your anger simmering away.

“Could you give us a minute, Mr. Stark?” You asked without turning around.

“I’ll be in the lab.” Tony nodded, grabbing his food before leaving.

Once he was gone, you walked to Peter and pulled him into a kiss to apologize. He tearfully kissed you back before pushing you away and wiping his eyes.

“You’ve been miserable this whole time?” He sniffled.

“Not the whole time.” You promised as you wiped his tears. “But when I am fighting a constant battle of what I want to do and what I’m told to do, I end each day exhausted. It’s terrifying somedays. And it’s so, so lonely.”

“But you have me.” He said quietly.

“I do.” You smiled a little. “But you’re away a lot. And I can’t put all of my happiness on you. That’s not fair to you and not healthy for our relationship.”

“I know you’re hurting, but killing yourself is not the answer.” He told you. “How could you even consider that?”

“You don’t get it, Peter.” You sighed. “I am one part of your already great life. You get to go on life saving missions during the week and explore the city on your free time. And you have someone who loves you to come home to when you’re done. It’s not like that for me. All I have is you. I just sit here waiting for you to come home. Like I’m some kind of…”

“Dog.” He finished your sentence, understanding your pain in a new way.

“Exactly.” You nodded. “I don’t expect you to understand, but I’m hoping you can at least try to see things from my side.”

“I’m gonna start helping Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner in the lab.” Peter decided. “We’re the world’s mightiest heroes. One of us has to be able to fix this. This can’t be your last choice.”

“It’s been nearly a year Peter.” You shrugged sadly. “I don’t think this can be fixed.”

“But I can try.” He grasped your hands tightly.

“All I’m asking for is another year. One year to do everything I can to fix you.”

“I don’t know if I can take another year of this. I’m sorry.” You cupped his face to apologize, set on your decision.

“Please?” He whispered. “For me?”

“Okay.” You agreed, making his face light up. He hugged you tightly and kissed the side of your head, thanking you for giving him a chance. In the heat of the moment, it didn’t occur to Peter that you only agreed because you had to. You began to silently cry as you hugged him back, not having the heart to tell him you didn’t mean what you said. You didn’t want to agree, but you had no choice in the matter.

He asked for a year, and you had to obey.

PART TWO 

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[strangelysamantha]

bittersweet ☆

possessive!rafe x plus!sized reader.

warnings: crazy rafe, possessive and obsessive behavior, swearing, underage drinking, reader gets hurt, physical fight, ect.

words: 2,167.

summary: you went to a local party by the beach when rafes unstable side peeked out. jj maybank finds you alone, and decides to talk to you. rafe gets possessive and upset, thinking that jj was hitting on you.

request?: no :)

a/n: i’m working on requests but since my computer is down it’s taking longer because i hate typing on my phone especially because tumblr always deletes what i’ve written. i’m hopeful that my computer will be fixed by tomorrow, until then i’ll try and produce a few stories since i’ve been MIA for a few days. remember to like and comment if you enjoy this! <3

my masterlist

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“please just come with me.” rafe frowned as he sat on your porch pleading to you, telling you why you should go to a beach party with him. “why rafe?” you frown, not in a partying mood. instead, you would much rather stay home and do a movie marathon. “please baby, i swear i’ll make it up to you.” you roll your eyes at his begging. “fine, but only because you are so cute.” his eyes sparkle as a smile lifts on his lips, you pull him into a quick kiss.

you walk back inside to get dressed for the bonfire. rafe was wearing blue and orange, and you wanted to match him. so, you grabbed a pair of dark blue ripped jean shorts, and an orange v-neck. you apply some perfume and jewelry before putting on some shoes. just as you were finishing up, rafe walked into your room smirking. “awh, you wanted to match with me.” he smiled. despite you knowing his look was filled with adoration you couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable under his long glance. “obviously, don’t you want people to know i’m yours?” you question him, waiting for his response. “well, matching clothes won’t change anything. everyone already knows.” you nod smiling before pulling him into a kiss.

once you pull away from the kiss, he grabs your hand and leads you to the car as he drives to the beach. his hand finding its way on your thigh; gripping it tightly. while he drove to the beach, you paid close attention to your phone, checking social media for any major updates. rafes grasp on your thigh loosened as the car came to a halt. you were parked on the beach, the sun was already setting.

you both exit the car, rafe swiftly moving from his side of the car to yours. “thank you for coming with me.” his hand finds yours, pulling them together. “of course, i love hanging out with you.” he lets go of your hand, and moves his arm to hold closely around your waist. the two of you begin to walk towards the already drunken teen filled beach.

you frown at the amount of trash that litters the sand. you stay close to rafe, as he approaches topper and kelce. “hey guys.” you say to them to make conversation. they nod in your direction, acknowledging you before their attention turns towards rafe again. you don’t pay any mind to what the boys are discussing. after a while you become bored, so you slowly slip out of rafes arm to go get a drink. “i’m going to go get a drink, do you want one?” you ask rafe, and he glances at you smiling. “yes please, thanks baby.” you lean in for a quick kiss before leaving to go get drinks. you weren’t a heavy drinker, always scared of what you would say or do under the influence, so you grab yourself a water and grab a beer for rafe.

you return to the spot you were in earlier, but it’s now vacant. rafe, topper, and kelce all leaving you behind. you frown, looking around for them but coming up short. you had no idea where they could be since this beach was huge. you don’t bother wasting your time looking for them, instead you start to head for the bonfire.

you weren’t surprised that rafe had left you all alone. this always happened. he would beg you to go to something, just to abandon you half way through it. it didn’t bother you, it just worried you, scared of what he was doing without you.

once you arrived at the bonfire, you decided to down the drink once made for rafe, the beer stinging your throat. you drank three more chugs before drinking water as well. it doesn’t take long for the alcohol to come into effect. you knew it had clouded your judgement when you were laughing at jj maybanks jokes of all people. “i’m telling you, these people were fucking crazy.” you giggled as he made exaggerated reactions. “you’re telling me! that sounds scary as fuck. i wouldn’t have survived.” he shook his head looking down at you, “i’m sure you would have figured something out.” you nod at him.

“have you seen those dudes since?” you ask, intrigued by his story. “actually, yeah. their story isn’t the brightest… sheriff told me that they-” his voice cut off as he made a slicing noise above his throat. your eyes widened in shock. “oh my god! really??” you grab his arm, “what if they came back for you! bro no way…” your heart rate quickens at the thought of evil men chasing random kids. “no, i know right, scary as shit. i guess it’s bittersweet because they died, but now they aren’t after us anymore.” he shrugs, sipping his red solo cup. “i guess. it’s still scary. so many people are unexpectedly dying nowadays, i definitely-” you were interrupted as rafe put an arm around you, eyeing jj up and down.

“continue baby, what were you saying?” rafe asked, smiling at you for a split second before it disappeared when his eyes focused on jj again. “oh we were just talking about bad men, and how this town is scarier than it used to be.” he nods at you. “jj what are you doing talking to my girl?” jj stands up straighter, “why do you care? do you own her or something?” rafe scoffed, “yes.” the confusion on your face was evident and jj was quick on acknowledging it. “oh really? by the look on her face, she doesn’t agree.” he glances at you, but you have quickly recovered. “what are you talking about maybank?” you interrupted the two immediately not wanting a fight to break out. “i was just talking to jj because he had a funny story. it wasn’t anything like that, i swear babe.” you words slurred together and it was evident you weren’t in the right headspace.

rafes eyes widened as he fully realized that you were so intoxicated that you had no idea what was going on, “what the fuck maybank? you got her drunk for what? you trying to fuck her?” jj couldn’t believe rafes nerve. “one, she was drunk when she came up to me, and two, i don’t need to fuck her, i already have.” your heart dropped at jj's confession.

“maybank, do you want to take that back?” you could tell rafe was trying to give jj a chance to redeem himself before all hell breaks loose. your hand tightened on rafes bicep trying to get him to move on, but he wouldn’t budge. “can't take back what’s already happened.” jj shrugged again, smirking.

rafe was the first one to throw a punch, you stumbled back as he had pushed you away. with your luck, your head had landed right against the beverage table, scratching the side of your face from your temple to the side of your cheek. you hiss in pain, moving your fingers to feel it. when you retreat your hand you see it covered in blood. you groan in pain, hissing as the cool air makes it sting.

you clumsy stand up, looking ahead to see rafe and jj were still fighting. “rafe!” you weakly call out, but he was stuck in his own little bubble as he pounded his fists against jjs face. you stumble away, walking far from the beach. you were too tired to even try to process what was going on. the yelling behind you quietly faded as you made your way farther along the beach.

not even a minute later you hear rafe running after you. “what rafe?” you ask, but your back is still turned to him. “baby, please just- i’m sorry okay. i, i don’t know. i was just scared he’d take you from me. i don’t want to lose you, you are all i have. you mean too much to me for some pogue to take.” his rambling only pissed you off more. “rafe, please. i have a headache, all i want is to go home.” you frown.

his eyes moved from the sand up to your face, surprised by the huge gash on your face that was oozing blood. “baby?! who did this to you?” you couldn’t contain your anger any longer. you used all your strength, pushing his shoulders back. “you did! you fucking asshole.” the fact that he didn’t even budge from the push you sent his way, pissed you off even more. “baby, i, you know i would never do anything to intentionally hurt you?” your silence only scared him even more.

“baby, i wouldn’t- i didn’t mean to hurt you.” his breathing was heavy as the realization hit him. he had undeniably hurt you, and he had undoubtedly lost you. “no, because this can’t be happening. i can't lose you. baby, i- it was an accident. please, you gotta understand i didn’t want to hurt you, it was just jj fucking all over you, and the way he tried to claim you, saying he already had you, it just- the anger i couldn’t even hold myself back.” you nod at his words. “rafe i understand that. i, just. i don’t want this. do you think i want you to assault every guy who even looks at me? it makes me feel like shit. do you know how shitty it makes me feel? that you think i would chose anyone else when i have you. it hurts to know that you think i’m not loyal enough.” you frown, tears easily falling out of your eyes.

“baby- it’s not you i’m worried about.” you nod, “i know… it just doesn’t feel that way.” he goes to speak again but you quickly interrupt him. “can we please continue this at your house? my head seriously hurts.” his eyes soften, his hand cupping your cheek. he hesitated before he pulled you into a kiss, when you kissed him back he could feel his smile come back. “rafe.” you say again, before pointing to your head. “right baby, i’m sorry. let's go.” you nod.

he walks you to his car, opening the door for you before you hop in. he puts your seatbelt on for you. his protective side shining through once again. he walks around, before hopping in himself. he starts the car. “seatbelt…?.” you question. he laughs quietly. “of course, baby.” you nod as he puts his seatbelt on. his hand reached for your thigh again, before he drove the two of you to his house.

when you arrived, your head was pounding. you could feel it throbbing, the blood dripping onto your orange v neck. you frown at the sight. the two of you walk inside, and he immediately pulls you into his room, placing you on the edge of his bed. he runs to his bathroom grabbing a table cloth and the first aid kit.

he opens the first aid kit, placing it beside you. he takes the wet washcloth, wiping away the blood. after cleaning it, he added antibacterial cream, and then covered it in gauze. he kissed the bandage covering it before walking to his closet.

“here. wear this, and i’ll wash your t-shirt.” you nod, “thank you rafe.” he turns around and you swiftly change your t-shirt. he turns around, his heart hammering inside his chest, still scared about where you stood.

“rafe. i don’t want to lose you. i love you a lot, but i don’t want to continue this if every time a guy looks at me funny, you beat him up. i appreciate you protecting me, but they aren’t worth it.” he nods, soaking up every word. “if you can promise me that you won’t fight random people anymore, then i think we can work this out, and work through this.” he smiles softly, “is that a deal?” you ask. “of course baby. i promise i won’t fight anyone unless they really deserve it.” you roll your eyes, “fine. that’s good enough; but please, let’s hope it doesn’t get too bad.” he laughs, “let’s hope.” you grab his hands, realizing they were quite bruised. “let’s ice these.” he follows you to the kitchen, as you prepare an ice pack.

once the ice pack is ready, you place it on one hand, the other is intently grabbing your thigh. “baby you don’t have to do all this.” he reached for the ice and you lightly pushed his hand away. “you fixed me up, let me fix you up.” he sat back and watched as you cared for his bruises. rafe was glad he didn’t lose you, and he was glad you were still there with him. having you so close to him made him realize he couldn’t sacrifice anything to lose you. he kissed your bandages once more before you two prepared for bed and started to comfortably cuddle together.

[chrisevansjellybeans]

A Break in the Routine | Bucky Barnes

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Bucky and reader meet up again after a bad breakup.

Warnings: angst with a sprinkle of absolute heartbreak

A/N: this is a repost! And I promise you guys I am working on Apt 10B. I have been in the biggest writing slump as a result of personal and professional things but I am slowly coming out of that slump and hope to have it up for you soon! ❤️

Routine. It was the only thing that could keep Bucky sane. His therapist really pushed for him to develop a good weekly routine that would help him start to adapt to life after Hydra. After Steve.

After you.

It was hard at first. He fought against the idea; he had been stuck in the same routine for years with Hydra and he just wanted to do whatever he wanted. But he soon learned that too much freedom was just as scary as too much discipline.

After months he finally found the perfect routine. Today was his favorite day: Saturday.

Every Saturday Bucky would wake up just before the sun and go for a run down the trail behind his apartment. The trail took him to a small park that had the perfect view of the sunrise. Bucky would close his eyes and let the warmth of the sun greet his face as it rose over the horizon. Then he would jog over to the small diner a couple miles up the road and have two eggs, toast and a hefty plate of bacon. Saturdays were good.

Saturdays were peaceful.

Until this Saturday.

Bucky took a long sip of the orange juice in front of him and started to look back down at the paper in front of him when the door to the diner opened. He didn’t have to look up to know that you had just walked through the door. Your signature scent, the sound of your laughter and the overall lighthearted aura that surrounded you now surrounded him. He sucked in a deep breath, his lungs now begging him for some air.

You looked happy. Happier than the last time he saw you. He clenched his jaw and shut his eyes as he remembered that night:

“Bucky, I want to help you but you have to let me in.” You all but screamed, throwing up your hands in defeat. Bucky fixed his stare on you, his jaw tight and his fists clenched. You pinched the bridge of your nose trying to calm down before you started again.

“You mean everything to me. Seeing you like this, so broken…it breaks me. I just-please, tell me how I can help.” Your eyes watered as you approached the stoic man in front of you. As you got closer though he took one big step back. Your heart cracked.

“This is who I am, Y/N. If you can’t seem to handle it then just fucking leave.” Bucky snapped.

“You don’t mean that.” You gasped. Your heart cracked even more.

He didn’t mean it. Of course he didn’t mean it. But you were right, he was broken and he couldn’t bear to take you down with him as he fell further and further into the abyss of his problems. And the worst part of it all; you were willing to fall with him because at the end of the day you were probably the only person that could pull him back out. And even in this moment if it didn’t seem like it; he loved you far too much to let you do that.

“Actually I do.” He lowered his voice, the tone making your spine straighten and the back of your neck tingle. “Just get out, Y/N. I don’t need you. I don’t want you.”

“No.” You had tried to sound strong but it came out more as a pathetic plea.

“If you won’t leave, then I will.” Bucky said simply, his expression and tone now conveying boredom even though his heart was begging him to shut up and pull you into his arms and wipe the tears that were falling down your face.

“I’m not leaving you.” You stated firmly.

“Fine.” Bucky grabbed his leather jacket that was slung haphazardly over the back of the sofa. “I’m going for a ride, when I come back I want you gone.”

He slammed the door shut behind him, but stopped as he heard your cries echoing through the wood. He fought every instinct to run back inside, scoop you up and kiss you until you stopped crying. He was doing this for you. You would be better off without him.

So with one final breath, he pushed himself away from the door and away from you forever.

“Bucky?” Your soft voice drew him from the memory and he slowly opened his eyes. You stood in front of him now, your eyes slightly watered as you took in the man in front of you. He looked different. His long hair was now short and his scruffy beard was now trimmed. He looked good. He looked happy. He looked content.

“Hi-um, hey.” He cleared his throat and stood up. “Hey, Y/N.”

You both stood for a moment, his eyes falling over your shoulder as the two girls you came in with-he recognized them but their names a distant memory-who were watching you closely. He opened his mouth to say something but was cut off when you threw yourself into his arms. He tensed as your arms wrapped around his center but then as the familiar scent of your shampoo wafted through his nose he relaxed. Holding you close he enclosed you in his arms.

God this feels good. He thought.

“You look great, Bucky.” You pulled away, smiling. He couldn’t help but return the smile. You turned and motioned for the girls behind you to come up. “You remember Jody and Lynn?”

“Of course. It’s nice to see you.” Bucky tilted his head towards them but he knew the moment they left he would forget all over again.

How could he think about anything else when you were right there?

“Hey.” The girls echoed.

One of them, Jody, he assumed if he remembered correctly, let you know they would be at the table before once again leaving the two of you alone.

“I‘ve missed you.” Bucky finally said. He hung his head low and you knew that was thinking of that night. He rubbed the back of his neck and let out a nervous laugh before looking back up at you. “I…I’m going to therapy.”

“Oh Bucky!” Your heart warmed as you clasped your hands together in front of your chest. “I’m so happy. So proud of you.”

Bucky couldn’t help the flush that he knew was now covering his cheeks. All he wanted in life was for you to be proud of him. Of the man that he was.

“I owe it all to you.” He shrugged. “You always knew there was a better version of me deep inside and after you left…after I made you leave I realized that I needed to find that man.”

The faint watering of your eyes turned to full blown tears as Bucky in such simple words caused your heart to grow and to crack all at once.

“I am so sorry, sweetheart. For everything. For the way I acted. For how I treated you that night. You were always looking out for me and I-“ he cleared his throat and looked towards the ceiling before meeting your eyes again. “I’m just sorry.”

“Buck, you don’t need to apologize. I forgave you about five minutes after you left.” You whispered. Bucky sucked in a wavering breath and looked down at his shoes.

You were always so understanding. Possibly even to a fault.

“I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but thank you.” Bucky cleared his throat once more before looking back at you. “But how are you?”

This time it was you who looked a little nervous. Shifting on your feet, you gave a weak smile and a shrug. “I’m doing good. Actually, I’m uh…I’m getting married.” Hesitantly, you held up your left hand where a small but glowing diamond sat upon the finger that Bucky always planned to don with his own ring. How he hadn’t noticed it before he would never know, but there it was now. A harsh reminder of what he lost and now of what he would never get back.

“Wow.” He breathed out. “Wow. That’s…that’s great, Y/n. I’m so…yeah. Congratulations.”

Suddenly the coffee shop felt small and the oxygen supply was running low. Following the tips from his therapist, Bucky took five slow breaths and gripped his palms, his blunt nail beds forcing tiny crescents into his skin. He had no right to be reacting this way.

He let you go.

He forced you out.

Of course you would find happiness with someone else.

“Bucky, I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing? Don’t apologize.” He shook his head. “I’m so happy for you.”

You tilted your head in that knowing way, a thing you would do all the time when you were together. Your head would tilt and your mouth would slightly pout as you gave him your best puppy dog eyes. He honestly didn’t think you ever knew that you did it, it was just second nature. And his heart cracked as you did the same action just now.

You opened your mouth to say something but were distracted when Lynn called out to you, both hands holding up coffees as she tried to get you to come towards the door.

“I have to go. Um, dress fitting.” You chewed on the skin around your nail, a nervous habit that Bucky had begged you to break but you wouldn’t.

“Go, I don’t want to hold you up.” Bucky forced a smile and scratched the back of his neck. “Be careful, coffee and white dresses are never a good combination.” He wanted to slap himself on the forehead at his lame attempt at a joke.

Thankfully, you laughed, a sound he would cherish forever, and nodded. “They will be sitting at least ten feet away.”

The two of you sobered up, your laughter fading into the sounds of the coffee shop as you stared at each other as if to take in the other one last time.

“I’m so glad I ran into you.” You whispered. “I…I worry about you, Buck. But seeing you so like this,” you waved your hand in front of him, “brings me a small semblance of peace.”

Bucky couldn’t find the words so he just pulled you in for another hug, his mouth pressing the softest kiss to the crown of your head. The faintest sigh left your lips and as your breath hit the exposed skin of his bicep, goosebumps erupted across his body.

“I always knew you would make the most beautiful bride.” He whispered against your hair before pulling back. “He’s one lucky guy.”

You couldn’t say anything due to the giant lump in your throat so you just nodded.

“I’ll see you around?” You finally said, grabbing your purse and slinging it over your shoulder.

“Of course.” Bucky didn’t know if he could survive another run in with you, especially if the next time he saw you you would be married to another man. “Now go, I don’t want to hold you up.”

You gave him one last wave and turned to leave but stopped and turned around. Bucky stared at you in confusion before shock covered his features as you rushed back over to him and into his arms. He caught you with ease, one hand resting on your lower back and the other on the back of your head.

“I will always love you, James Buchanan Barnes.” Your words were muffled into the fabric of his shirt, but he heard you like you were shouting it through a megaphone. Bucky held you closer, his heart beating wildly against his chest as he tried to digest your words. Too soon, you were out of his arms again and wiping your eyes with the sleeve of your coat. Your watering eyes met him and without spoken words you knew that your sentiments were returned.

“You should go, sweetheart.” Bucky said softly when he noticed both Jody and Lynn watching your interaction closely.

“Yeah, okay.” You sniffed. “I’ll see you later, Buck. Promise?”

“I promise.”

You gave a small smile-a smile that had him wanting to bring you back home with him and never let you go-and then rushed towards your friends who he could tell immediately started grilling you for information. Your eyes met his from across the shop and he just gave you a small wave before sitting back and down and pretending to go back to his paper. Once he heard the bell ring, signaling the opening of the door and the departure of you, he took a breath and dropped the paper back to the table.

He promised that he would see you later, a promise he knew he wouldn’t keep. Seeing you and knowing that you were with someone else? That you were married to someone else? He wouldn’t be able to handle it. He always hated lying to you, but he would forgive himself for this lie just this once.

[starlessea]

𝙎𝙩𝙚𝙥 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙂𝙖𝙨 - Chapter 1. Is It A Bird?

A/N Make sure you read the prologue before, or this chapter might not make sense!

Series Masterlist: Step on the Gas

Summary: A dishonourable discharge from the military results in you being hauled off to live with your grandparents in the boonies, otherwise known as the middle of nowhere Georgia. After running over a nail on the road, and pushing your grandpa's vintage Camaro to the nearest auto-shop, you meet Daryl Dixon - the local mechanic. At some point, the world ends, but that stubborn man never gives you a chance to slow down. His smile gives you whiplash, but he still insists that you to step on the gas.

Words: 4869

Chapter Warnings: Language, Injury

You watched the bird fly from behind the clear glass, level with the top floors of the office building.

You followed it the best you could, walking the stretch of the room alongside it. The window was long and wide, filling the wall entirely. This whole section of the building was made of glass, and stood tall against the skyline — so that you could often see the flocks of birds that flew by.

Though, it wasn’t as tall as the ones closer to the inner city.

No, this was more of a dwarfed skyscraper.

You reached the end of the office, and placed your hands up against the cool glass as the bird continued onwards — leaving you behind. Below, the street seemed desolate, just as the sky now did. There wasn’t a single soul lurking down there — but you didn’t trust your eyes in the slightest. Especially not here.

You needed a better view. You needed a bird’s-eye view.

The fire escape steps were rickety, and metal flakes crumbled beneath your feet. They had rusted from the rain, and you tried not to think about how precariously they squeaked as you made your ascent to the roof. You’d done it before, but every time felt worse than the last.

You just couldn’t shake the feeling that they’d cave beneath you — and laugh their squeaky laughs as they sent you plummeting to the ground.

You reached the top, and felt the breeze on your cheek as you scaled the roof courtyard. Up here, everything seemed untouched. It always had done. This high up, people would look like mere ants — harmless, and far enough away that it didn’t matter if they weren’t.

The wind blew, and you stared out towards the building parallel to the corporate one you were currently standing on. It had been a hotel once. But now its roof held something far more valuable than deckchairs and a cocktail bar.

There she was, you smiled, and what a beauty indeed.

It was an army helicopter, sat perfectly still against the horizon — like a bird nesting. It was a camo green, but it didn’t camouflage against the greyish sky in the slightest. Though, it did seem like it belonged there; it was a hawk after all.

A Sikorsky Hawk, to be more specific.

You’d never flown her type before, but she’d been there ever since you first took refuge in the building, like an abandoned bird in an abandoned city. The army had been the first to flee, after all — or the first to die. Either way, the hawk had sat alone for nearly two months, teasing you.

You should have just stayed in Georgia.

It was only meant to be a weekend trip, but somehow you’d gotten stranded in Atlanta during the end of the world. You would have cursed your luck, but then again you were lucky enough to get stuck on the outskirts — only narrowly missing the bombs as they reigned down upon the city.

It was like a meteor shower. Except, instead of falling stars, it had been napalm.

You could remember it perfectly. First the power had gone out, then the water mains dried up, and finally the food whittled down to nothing. You’d hopped from building to building until you came across this corporate graveyard — which had enough supplies to keep you alive for a few weeks. But you should have just left Atlanta whilst you had the chance.

This tower had lulled you in with the promise of safety, but had kept you trapped there ever since.

Walking closer to the roof’s edge, you glanced along the building in the distance. You’d checked it a dozen times now — mapping out all of its exits to try and find a way inside. You had to be prepared. After all, it wasn’t like you could just wait until you got there. Your boot hit the fencing, and you felt the urge to peer over the railing at the alley below.

Don’t look down, you told yourself — but you always did.

A narrow sidestreet separated the office block from the hotel. There was a fence at one end, secured with a thick padlock, whilst the other was open. That would have been fine on its own; except, the biters had all stumbled into the alley as though it were a cattle cage — and couldn’t figure out how to leave once they were there.

Dumb fucks, you thought, watching them pile up against the gate as though it were a concert barrier.

Almost every day, you’d come to see that helicopter — separated by a channel of the undead, their heads bobbing like ripples on the surface of water — and every day you’d turn around and head back down the fire escape.

Your stomach gurgled, and you let out a sigh. The stale lunchroom cereal had recently run empty. You felt for your pistol in your back pocket — the one you’d managed to get a hold of during the initial outbreak.

Six bullets, you counted, before slipping it back into your jeans.

You smiled at the irony.

“Six!” you yelled at the man, placing your card face-up on the bar. “It’s my lucky number.”

Dixon knocked back his whiskey and grimaced as it went down. Joe’s was practically empty by now, but the man lingered about like the aftertaste of your drink — waiting for your shift to end.

“An’ why’s that?” he asked, not looking up from his own hand.

You smiled — the alcohol making you loose-lipped.

“It was your closing time. Six in the evening,” you explained, waiting for him to lay his last card. “But you still fixed up the Camaro anyway.”

Your fingertips rested along the hem of the jacket, feeling the worn leather. The air was stiflingly warm, but you kept it on. After all, it still smelled faintly of the man who’d given it to you.

Like whiskey and gasoline.

Atlanta had gone still and quiet, leaving you to your thoughts as you stood on that rooftop — trying to be brave. Military training was meant to beat that into a person, but maybe you’d gone soft since then. After all, you always preferred to stay above the action than be in the midst of it.

Six bullets, a Hawk, and a cattle grid filled with biters.

You laughed. Everything interesting always seemed to happen on a Tuesday.

Glancing over your shoulder at the bird once more, you tried to ignore the way your stomach dropped and your palms sweat. It was probably from the heat, you tried to tell yourself, but you knew better than that.

“I guess today’s the day,” you said, to no one in particular.

Then, you began to descend that rickety fire escape once again — because what goes up must always come down.

//

What you hadn’t realised, is that the same could be said for that Sikorsky Hawk, which spat you out of the sky like you didn’t deserve to be there.

When you finally came back around — after drifting in and out of consciousness for what felt like much too long — all you could smell was burning rubber.

That’s not good, you thought, as you blinked your eyes open.

Black smoke hung thick in the air, melding with the orange flames that flickered in the distance and caught the trees.

Those damn trees.

You hissed curses through your teeth as the pain finally kicked into gear — albeit a bit delayed. In your haziness, you’d barely realised how precarious your situation was. Like a puppet on a string, you dangled from the branches of a tall, leafless tree — caught by your parachute wires.

Your breaths were shallow and strained, and you slowly lifted a hand — the one not tangled in the cords — to feel your stomach.

Blood.

It was shrapnel from the crash. It stung like a bitch, and would probably need stitches. Well, it would if you could get down in the first place.

You glanced up at your other arm, eyes stinging from the brightness of the sky.

That doesn’t look right either, you grimaced.

It had gotten caught during the fall, and had twisted at an unnatural angle which only made you wince as you tried to free it. Like a marionette, if you plucked those wires ever so slightly, your whole body flailed.

The radios whirred below you, letting out a continuous note of high-pitched static as they caught alight. It reminded you of the screeching of wheels as they spun over tarmac — or something like that.

But, then you saw a man.

And the man saw you.

At first, you barely recognised him without his oil-stained work clothes — wrench in hand. But at the same time, he seemed to blend in perfectly with this new world. He had a crossbow slung over his back, and a rope of limp squirrels looped around his shoulder. A natural born hunter, indeed.

With numb toes, and blood rushing to your head, you called out to him hoarsely — hoping that he’d spot you perched among the trees.

“Dixon,” you spoke, and winced straight after.

Your voice didn’t even sound like your own.

Still, the man whipped around, and stared straight through you as though he were looking at a ghost.

“How’s it hanging?” you teased, and recognition flashed on his face.

It had taken him a while to cut you down, untwisting your limbs delicately from the cables. But once you were free, he carried you in his arms — like some trophy game from his hunting trip.

Then, he noticed the wound.

The mechanic looked down at you helplessly. He still hadn’t said a single word, but his eyes told you everything you needed to know. They rested on your hands — which were pressed down firmly to stop the bleeding — before trailing back up to your face.

He looked older than you remembered, and more hardened. And he didn’t view you with the same shy curiosity as before — you had noticed.

No. This was sadness.

You brought a hand up from your stomach and touched it to his cheek. He flinched at the contact, but didn’t pull away.

You could swear he even leaned into it.

His mousy stubble tickled your palm, and only then did you realise the bloody fingerprints you’d left behind on his skin. You let your head flop against the man’s chest, your ear pressed to his pounding heartbeat.

“Today really isn’t my day,” you murmured there, and he started walking.

//

You watched the sky the whole way back.

It looked so different from the sky in Atlanta. There were no hulking skyscrapers blocking it, nor fast food billboards that had begun to peel away. And there were far more birds flying by — the real kind, not any Sikorsky Hawks.

Dixon remained completely silent, except for when he’d occasionally remind you to keep pressure on that wound. He moved quickly, but he seemed lost in thought — lacking the usual bite you remembered.

He also seemed to have lost his words, you thought.

But then you reached a clearing.

You could hear the commotion before you saw it; there was some rustling behind the trees, accompanied by dry shouts and the clanging of metal. You glanced up at the man carrying you for answers, but he didn’t once look down.

Daryl stepped out into the open air, and squinted from the sunlight. You did the same, turning your head into his chest for some cover from it.

“Ya can drop yer weapons,” you heard him say.

Well, more like felt — since the vibrations rumbled against your cheek.

“Unless yer plannin’ on offing me with tha’ shovel,” he snapped.

There he was, you smiled, that was the Dixon you recognised.

You could feel his heart thumping as he spoke, and you had to coax yourself away to take a look at the scene for yourself.

A group of people holding spades, a bashed-in biter, and a mauled deer.

You laughed. Fucking Tuesdays.

Except, the laugh trailed off into a wheeze as the pain started up, and the blood poured.

Daryl quickly kicked into gear with urgency, and brushed off the group as they tried to ask their questions. “Someone best go get Merle off his lazy ass,” he yelled, “tell him his favourite helicopter pilot jus’ crash landed ‘ere.”

Your head snapped up at his words.

Merle Dixon, too? You weren’t sure you could handle them both.

Except, nobody moved to go and retrieve the older brother. Instead, a small asian man stepped forward — removing his baseball cap and wringing it in his hands.

“I can’t believe it,” he announced, eyes locked on you, “helicopter boy was telling the truth!”

You squinted at his words, trying to make sense of them amidst the heatstroke and blood loss.

But, you didn’t have to try for long. A second man stepped out from behind the frontline of people, also parting with his obnoxiously large hat as he did so. Except, this was no baseball cap; this was a damn country midwestern cowboy hat.

The badge in the centre of it caught the light and beamed it back directly into your eyes, making you cower away. The man shucked his hands into his pockets, and only then did you catch sight of him fully — clad in his King County Sheriff’s Department uniform .

Great, you sighed, letting your head flop back over Daryl’s arm. A fucking cop.

Dixon’s jaw clenched, too. You saw it above you — tensing.

“You come from Atlanta?” the officer questioned, “earlier today?”

That caught your attention. He’d been in Atlanta, too?

You definitely hadn’t seen any survivors on the flight over. But then again, it would’ve been nearly impossible to distinguish the dead from the living at that altitude. You swallowed thickly, and nodded.

“What happened to you?” he pressed.

The group’s chatter had died to a silence, and even Daryl seemed to await your answer.

“Engine failed,” you croaked, parched from a lack of water. “Couldn’t control the descent so I had to jump,” you cursed the last part, “too many trees.”

Then, you pinched Daryl’s arm lightly — feeling woozy from the sun. He nodded, and wordlessly stepped over the rotting corpse near his boot.

“You two know each other?” a voice interrupted, “and you just happened to find her?”

You didn’t like this man’s eyes; you hadn’t since you’d first caught a glimpse of them. He had dark, bouffant hair that seemed far too prim for the end of the world, and was wearing light cargo pants.

Then you noticed the dog tags hanging from his neck, and the combat boots which matched what you knew to be police-issued training gear.

Seriously, you thought, another one?

Daryl didn’t seem particularly fond of the guy, either, because he narrowed his eyes at him in the same way he did the biter at his feet. He looked as though he was considering ignoring him completely. And you couldn’t blame him.

It wasn’t like you were bleeding out, or anything.

“Was trackin’ tha’ deer,” he responded, toeing the dead animal with his boot. “Seen the bird go down an’ followed it.”

Daryl readjusted his grip on you, and you groaned from his heavy-handedness. But you didn’t miss his guilty expression.

After all, he probably tried to be gentle.

“An’ there she was, jus’ swingin’ from tha' tree like a big ol' piñata,” he finished — that southern drawl thick on his tongue.

You watched the other man’s jaw shift as though he were chewing on a bee, and spit at the ground like it had stung his mouth.

“You’re telling me that she crashed a damn helicopter in our backyard?” he barked, narrowing in on you with those sharp, dark eyes. “Drawing walkers from all over?”

Daryl shifted where he stood, making the leather of your jacket squeak as it rubbed together. You were beginning to feel like tinfoil in a microwave — cooking slowly in the sun as you waited for the men to finish brooding.

“Ya hear ‘nything?” the mechanic asked of the group, who turned away from his intense gaze one-by-one. “Din’t think so,” he spat, and you could practically hear his thoughts.

What a bunch of cowards.

“Was in the bow of the woods,” Daryl went on, eyeing the dark-haired man where he stood. “Land dips in at either side, like a noise tunnel.”

He paused, his eyes briefly flicking up to the sky as though seeing the scene once more.

“Only ones hearin’ it were the ones a’ready there.”

Daryl juggled you in his arms again, probably aching from the long trek, and seemed antsy to finally escape those heavy stares. But then, the man shook his head — as though remembering something.

“Now where’s my damn brother?” he growled.

And everyone’s eyes fell straight to the ground, like birds swooping down from the sky.

//

It would be an understatement to say that Daryl Dixon had exploded at the news.

He went nuclear.

If you hadn’t been in his arms at the time, you were certain that someone would’ve been on the receiving end of Daryl’s right hook. You’d seen it before, after all. That man wasn’t exactly one to pull his punches.

But, luckily, you had been there — crumpled in on yourself as the white hot pain also reached nuclear levels.

And so, you were ushered into a small, greyish tent that smelled faintly of oil and gasoline — and the unfortunate alcoholic stench of Merle Dixon — and stripped out of your jacket by a woman who tried her best to quell the bleeding.

But even then, you could still hear the storm raging outside the thin canvas material — the storm that went by the name of Dixon. He’d never shown that sort of temper around you before, so it came as a shock to see it brewing for yourself.

Yells competed with each other outside the tent walls, as a woman with short, greyish hair politely tended to your wounds — pretending she couldn’t hear anything at all.

But, you heard it and bolted upright, straight as an arrow.

Merle Dixon had been chained to a roof like a dog in Atlanta.

What fucking irony.

The smoking ban had loomed over rural Georgia for a while now, but it fell on the deaf ears of the regulars. They still smoked their thickly rolled cigars, and cheap cartons of cigarettes — clogging up the bar and your lungs every time you took a breath.

Dixon sat on the stool, watching as you wiped down the chestnut oak covered in sticky beer rings, and pulled new drinks for the impatient men twice your age. He was mulling over a particularly hard whiskey that day, but wouldn’t tell you the reason behind it.

So, you continued with your rounds until another man approached you, and took the only free seat beside the mechanic.

Big mistake, you smirked, and awaited his reaction.

Daryl Dixon shared barspace with no one - hence, the free seats on an otherwise crowded Friday night. Except, he did nothing but shoot the stranger a side-eyed glance, before returning to his whiskey that needed a top-up on ice.

The newcomer let his eyes slide down over you, in that sleazy way you’d become familiar with by now. He ran his tongue along the front of his teeth and tilted his head back in an exaggerated display of bravado.

And you snorted; you just couldn’t help it.

He scowled at you in response, as his gaze rested on the bare skin of your neck.

“Military dog,” he spat, despite your lack of tags, “where's yer collar?"

Beside him, the mechanic’s jaw clenched as he looked up from the ice melting in his glass.

You laughed. “Howdy, redneck, where’s your cousin?”

And Daryl choked on that same ice.

Surprisingly, the bitterness all but faded away from the unknown man’s face — as he seemed to take your comment in jest. He smirked, and wacked Daryl on the back forcefully as he hacked up his whiskey — yelling something about it being too damn expensive to go shooting out all over the bar.

You couldn’t understand the situation. You’d never seen Daryl act like that with anyone at Joe’s — let alone this particular breed of asshole.

“Feisty, jus’ how I like ‘em,” the stranger quipped back, sending a wink at you that lingered on your skin.

You pulled a face, and went back to wiping down the bar — careful not to lean over too much.

“Knock it off, Merle would’ya?” Daryl shot back, his voice rising in pitch over the name.

The other man — Merle — grinned, before clapping Daryl over the back once more. “No promises, lil’ brother,” he teased.

Then, he knocked back a drink you were certain he must’ve snuck in — because you sure as hell hadn’t poured it for him — and disappeared into the sea of drunkards playing pool and throwing darts haphazardly.

You froze, glancing over to the mechanic.

“That’s your brother? I’m so sorry-”

“Don’ worry ‘bout it,” he interrupted, before finishing his whiskey and handing you the empty glass. “Asshole deserved it.”

Back then, you saw no resemblance between Daryl and Merle Dixon — but, families always had a strange hold over a person. After all, that was the reason why you’d gotten shipped off to Georgia in the first place; your parents had swept you under the rug like a bad kept secret — simply to try and keep up appearances.

You’d followed your brother into the military, only for it to spit you back out and leave a bad taste in everyone’s mouths afterwards.

The tent door unzipped, and flapped as it caught the evening breeze.

Daryl entered like a hurricane, startling the woman — Carol — as she tended to you. He was followed by an entourage of curious faces who watched as he toed his boots off, and kicked them to the side.

“All of ya best get out,” he grumbled, as he peeled off his leather vest and set it down next to you — his eyes focused on your white shirt that had since been dyed red.

The group seemed to register his words, but no one made the move to leave.

The man let out a frustrated grunt, before fumbling with the small first-aid box near your feet. “Need to give ‘er stitches, an’ I ain’t need no one breathin’ down my neck,” he said, scowling down at the supplies.

You swallowed thickly, that didn’t sound very convincing.

A blonde woman near the tent entrance seemed to think the same, because she chirped up.

“You know how to do that?” she questioned — braver than any of the men who stood in stunned silence.

Daryl’s jaw set. “Y’ain’t believe me?” he bit back. “Think ‘m only good for spittin’ on the ground an’ feedin’ ya damn squirrels?”

The same woman recoiled at his words, and you sighed.

Always had a bark much worse than his bite, that one.

But then the man reached over for the hem of your shirt and you just froze — before slapping his hand away. He also recoiled with the same, exaggerated movements, and scowled at you as though your touch had burnt him.

You wanted to trust him, but part of you just couldn’t.

Daryl must’ve caught the look in your eyes — and recognised it for himself — because he sighed and shook his head, and glanced over at the women nearby.

“Anyone else know how to give stitches ‘round ‘ere?” he demanded, but the majority shook their heads.

All except one.

“I think I-” Carol piped up, before a burly man shot her a look so boldly threatening that it even made you flinch.

The woman paused over her words, before eventually shaking her head.

“I don’t. I’m sorry,” she mumbled, timidly, before that same man slipped his hand in hers and pulled her away.

You recognised that look, too.

And so the rest of the stragglers disappeared from the tent one-by-one, until only you and Daryl remained — deadlocked.

“C’mon, Camaro, quit yer bitchin’,” he coaxed, his voice more soft now that it was just the two of you. “Unless ya wanna bleed out o’er my tent.”

He had the needle and thread all prepared between his fingers, waiting for your permission.

You sighed. “You used to be a lot nicer, you know that?” you remarked, thinking back to the Dixon who shyly smoked cigarettes on that cliff’s edge, watching you like you were brighter than the stars.

You had noticed.

Then, you lifted up your shirt with your trembling hand, as he pressed onto your skin with his steady one.

And so Daryl gave you stitches — filling you up on Merle’s stash of whiskey to dull the pain — and muttering how, despite his work not being pretty, it’d be functional. You didn’t question how he’d come to learn how to sew butterfly stitches in the first place, thinking it best not to ask, nor did you comment on how gentle he wiped away the blood.

Always a man of his word, Daryl Dixon’s stitches were definitely not pretty.

But, to you, they looked like constellations.

He’d made it clear how lucky you’d been that it was only a surface injury; if it were anything deeper, he wouldn’t have been able to patch you up. It was probably thanks to that thick jacket that you’d managed to walk away from the crash mostly unscathed.

You’d seen him eyeing it occasionally as he worked, glancing over at the bloody leather that stained his tent floor.

Like hell would you be giving it back.

After that, he’d also managed to sneak Carol back inside — away from who you could only guess to be her husband. She’d told you that your arm wasn’t broken, but in fact dislocated, and helped set it back into place as your eyes stung with salt tears.

But you couldn’t complain.

After all, they’d tried to put you back together like humpty dumpty after your crash — albeit with staples and scotch tape.

Though, as soon as you were out of the woods and in the clear, Daryl pulled his boots back on and collected his things impatiently — not even sparing you a second glance.

“Where are you going?” you asked quietly, afraid of the answer.

Your words left your mouth a bit slurred from the medical-whiskey concoction, but he only pretended not to hear them.

You asked again, until he finally responded. “‘M goin’ to get my damn brother back, where’d ya think?” he answered, frustration laced in his voice.

He stuffed a few things into his rucksack, before slinging it over his shoulder.

“Careful, Dixon,” you cautioned, “you have a habit of finding yourself in a mess when you let your temper get the best of you.”

The man scoffed, and made a point of looking you up and down — calling you hypocritical with his eyes alone.

“Don’ act like ya know me tha’ well,” he growled, startling you with his tone.

But, you couldn’t blame him for his words.

After all, you’d spent more time apart than you had together.

The man sighed. “Gotta go get Merle,” he reasoned, more carefully this time.

He flickered open the tent, and let in the sky. It was not yet black, but a burnt orange, as though preparing to be set alight with stars. It reminded you of those evenings you’d get to close up early, and walk past a certain auto-shop that still had its amber lights turned on, and its door wide open.

And the former mechanic started walking away, leaving you behind out on the sidewalk.

“Daryl-” you called after him.

The word spilled from your mouth like beer overflowing from a glass — pouring over before you could stop it.

He glanced back immediately.

You never called him that.

Even though you knew his name from other people’s tongues, he’d always been Dixon — ever since the moment you read it on his shoddy name-tag. Not once during the month you’d spent with him had you called him Daryl.

Not until now.

“It’s getting dark out,” you whispered, even though the sky was still clearly orange.

You swallowed the dryness from your throat — and with it, your pride.

“Please stay? Until morning?”

Dixon looked back at you, swaddled in one of his clean shirts that he’d buttoned up himself — making you look so small.

And he sighed. He always was the worst liar of them all.

“Jus’ ‘til mornin’,” he repeated, trudging back to that grey tent.

Then, he took a seat beside you, his knees knocking against yours. But you tried to fight against your smile, and racing heart that pounded deep in your chest.

Because what goes up must always come down.

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A/N Boom. The series has officially been kicked off. Did you like seeing the parallels between Daryl’s POV in the prologue and the reader’s? I really hope you all enjoyed it - please let me know what you think :)

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[jaxxandcomet]

the only thing I don't want to burn - JJ Maybank x reader

in which a boy tells a girl that he is real and the things that haunt her, no matter how realistic, aren't.

word count : 2600

trigger warnings : blood, paranoia, self harm, burning ( as a form of self harm ), schizophrenia, love haha, swearing

requested : no but they are open!

this one's rough buttercups, but I love angst and this was a good thing to get out emotions on !

gif credit : @outerbankspov

You were never alone. You stood in lines in the school cafeteria and tried to ignore the voices circling around outside, both the real ones and the ones made up by your mind. You laid on the HMS Pogue and soaked up the sunlight and tried to shake the feeling of someone choking you or of someone plugging your ears.

Pill 1

This pill was light blue, but it reminded you nothing of the sky. You held it in your fingers, trying to hold enough water in your mouth so you could swallow it. You’d read the orange bottle it came in, the bottle that your doctor had prescribed, and told yourself it would work. That it had to work. But the people standing around you told you it wouldn’t. Just like how they told you to kill yourself or cut yourself or how they took your thoughts away from you.

You swallowed it and blinked at yourself in the mirror. You hadn’t taken a shower in days - the last time you did spiders crawled up from the drains and screamed in your ears. You looked down at your arms and still saw the scratches you’d given yourself to get the spiders off of you - even though they were made up by your mind.

The figures behind you that you’d come to know well stared you down, still chirping. You could see their reflections in the mirror, tainted.

“Come on y/n.” The boy with the red hair told you. “This isn’t going to work. I will be with you forever. We love each other, don’t we?”

“Y/n, why would you ever think that you could get rid of us? We love you more then JJ or the Pogues ever could. Listen to us. We do everything for you!” The girl said. The Haunter’s always told you lies, and you always believed them.

You sat on the floor for the amount of time it said it would take the pill to kick in. You waited for their voices to go away, for their darkness to stop tainting your eyes, but they never did.

You got up and left your bathroom, the Haunter’s following you down the hallway to your bedroom. Your parents were gone, and your middle-class home was silent. It seemed to you as though they were always gone. It was only the Haunter’s that were ever really with you.

You didn’t turn on the light when you walked inside and shut the door to your room, and you prayed it would stop the Haunter’s from turning your vision. Of course, their whispers could never be silenced. You crawled into bed and screamed when you felt a warm lump at the end of it.

“Fuck, y/n! It’s just me! I’m not going to hurt you!” A voice told you, and for a second you believed it was one of the Haunter’s still trying to configure your mind. They would always be trying, you reminded yourself. At least at this rate.

“God dammit JJ, you scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry, sorry.” You felt a hand on your foot, so warm that you were sure you were making it up. It was gone a second later. “You are freezing! Get under the blankets before you go hypothematic.”

“Before I get hypothermia, you mean.” You corrected, trying to focus on the texture of the blankets as you crawled under them. You felt JJ lay down a second later, right next to you, a mess of blankets separating your skin.

“Thematic, thermia. Potato, tomato. Same thing.” JJ said and you could smell weed and salt on his skin. The last thing you remembered smelling was your own blood.

You tried to laugh but only hollowness sounded.

“Are you okay? You seem weird.”

“Wow. Thanks. I’m a weird person.” The word almost choked you. You felt your mouth dry. You were weird. That’s why you could never tell him. He would leave, and hate you, and that would feel worse then waterever the Haunter’s said about him now.

“I didn’t mean it like that, you just seem not yourself.” He spoke quietly, and you closed your eyes and focused on keeping your hands on your stomach so as they wouldn’t try to plug your ears. The Haunter’s were shouting at each other at the foot of your bed.

You took a deep breath. “I’m fine, JJ, just tired. I’m going to try and sleep. You can stay if you want.”

After the words slipped out of your throat, an encore of anger blasted from your feet. The Haunter’s screamed at you.

“No! What are you thinking! We are here, you do not need him. He is nothing compared to us. You love us and you know that he will never love you.” They told you. You tried your hardest not to believe them.

“You need your sleep. I’ll see you soon, Y/n. Goodnight.” He crawled over you and left via your window, which you quickly closed, preparing yourself for what the Haunter’s would tell you next.

They weren’t telling you, they were shrieking at you. “You love us! How could you ever replace us with him! You need to hurt yourself! What in the world were you thinking!”

You tried not to believe them. But this was the slipping point, and open air was soon under your feet. You got up, and walked to the living room, where you grabbed the lighter from above the fire. You sat back down at the edge of the bed, and lit the flame apon your wrists.

Pill 2

This pill was orange, and it felt heavy in your fingertips. The Chateau bathroom stood around you, and you popped the pill in your mouth before replacing your hands to where they lay on the bowl of the sink. You’d become an expert in the past four months of swallowing pills without water, and since you’d tried several other types of pills, you’d also become very good at reading the orange bottles. This pill had the strongest dosage, and was the one of the market that seemed to work best for severe cases of your ‘condition’. At least that was how your doctor put it, when she handed you the bottle with a smile.

It didn’t seem like just a condition to you or the Haunter’s, but they’d been ghosts for the past day, and on days where they went half-away, you tried to make the most of it.

You walked out of the bathroom and sat down on the porch with the rest of Pogues. Pope, who sat next to you on the couch, was drawing a route on a map for a day trip they were planning. Kiara offered you a beer and you shook your head.

“Come on, dude! I haven’t seen you drink anything in like four fucking months. Loosen up a little bit.” She said, taking a swig of her own beer.

“Don’t fucking pressure her like that Ki!” JJ said from his spot on the side of the railing.

“Says you!” John B shook his head as JJ pretended to punch him. Sarah, who was sitting next to JB, turned and ran her eyes over you.

“Are you okay, y/n?” She asked lightly, laying a hand on your jean covered leg. JJ turned his head quickly and nodded.

“I was just about to ask the same thing,” his eyes glazed over your body. You’d lost weight and replaced tighter clothes with baggier ones. His face paused when looking at your own, noticing the bags under your eyes.

“I didn’t sleep well last night. I hope I’m not too much of an eye soar.” Pope laughed at your remark.

“You will never be,” JJ looked away, holding up his blunt to his mouth.

You sat next to Pope and tried to look away from the Haunter’s, who were slowly getting louder in your ears and darker to your eyes. Before you knew, they were laughing and calling you names and pretending to shoot you with their guns and you couldn’t take it. You got up slowly and fumbled down the steps, a head rush pounding into your skull.

“Y/n? Y/n?” JJ got up quickly and ran down the steps behind you, seeing you drag yourself to the street so as you could walk home.

You turned around slowly and smiled lightly, trying to put away the Haunter’s remarks for you to shoot yourself. You gripped your sleeve tighter, praying he didn’t see the burn marks on your arms. They never healed for more than twelve hours.

“What’s up? I can walk you home if you want to go. You don’t look okay.” You could hear the worry laced into his voice.

“I’m good, JJ. Just got a little headache and want to go home and try to sleep. I’ll see you soon, okay. Don’t worry about me.” Before he could respond, you walked away and down the street.

Pill 3

This pill was red. It stuck to your tongue when you swallowed it, and you felt as though it may never hit your stomach. None of the pills ever helped. Some made the Haunter’s worse. None of them made them fade.

The sun beat down on your skin, and you pulled your long sleeve down over the scars on your wrists, and now arms. You could feel the sway of the HMS hunderneth you and the wind muffled the Haunter’s whispers, at least for a few minutes.

You didn’t pay attention to the conversation the rest of the Pogues were having, and focused only on how good the flame would feel when you got home. The Haunter’s were right that warmth helped.

That night, you sat on your downstairs porch huddled around the outside fireplace, surrounded by the Haunter’s. Their voices rang into your skull, and the only thing you could do to distract your mind from them was to pull up your sleeve and hold it over the open flame. Whenever you pulled your arm out of the glow, they would shout at you to put it back in. So you complied. It was the only thing that made them happy.

Your eyes lost themselves inside of the orange fluorescence, and you didn’t hear the twigs snap next to you or the gasp that sounded. The only thing you could feel was when someone pushed your chair backwards and you landed on the concrete.

“Shit! Oh my god. What in the fucking world were you doing,Y/n!” It took you a second to place JJ’s voice in your mind, and you tried to pull down your sleeve, but it was too late. You felt him pull you upright and drag the chair away from the fire pit.

“Your arm was on fire. It’s burned! Why were you holding your hand in the fucking fire!” With each word he said, your breathing quickened. This was normally the part you hated the most. The withdrawal from the flame. The Haunter’s shrieked in your ears and you could see them dancing in the light in front of you.

You peered down at your arm and screamed, and before you could do anything JJ had picked you up and pulled you through the French door’s of your house and onto your couch. You pushed yourself away from him, holding your hands up in front of your eyes, peering at them as though they weren’t your own.

“Y/n! I need to know what you were doing! I need to know if you are okay! Why aren’t you looking at me? Nothing’s over there. Stop! I need you to answer me!”

“JJ?” You asked faintly and glanced over at him for a second. A tear slipped down his cheek, and you could tell he wanted to touch you, but didn’t want to hurt you. “I need you to leave.” Your voice was quiet. You still could protect yourself. JJ didn’t have to know about the Haunter’s.

“I’m not going to leave you, Y/n. You were hurting yourself, and I need to know why. I need to know if this is related to why you’ve been acting weird. I need to know if you are okay.” He was sure in his tone and you understood that you wouldn’t be able to get yourself out of this. He’d seen your arm in the flame.

The Haunter’s had followed you both into the house and were trying to coax you back out of to the flame. Your eyes flickered between them and JJ, and they were all getting louder. You couldn’t hear your own breathing.

“SHUT UP! FUCKING PLEASE SHUT UP!” You screeched and your arms and legs shook. “Please. I don’t want to go out there again. I don’t want to hurt myself. Please stop trying to make me. Please. Please.” The tears glided down your cheeks as you shut your eyes. You trembled and kept repeating the word to yourself. “Please. Please. Please. I don’t want to hurt myself.”

When you stopped, the Haunter’s had quieted themselves and JJ was there and watching you.

“Y/n?” JJ took you in softly. “Please tell me what just happened.”

Still shaking hard, and glancing around to make sure the Haunter’s didn’t return, you opened your mouth. “I’m so sorry JJ. I can’t. I can’t.”

“I need to know why you were hurting yourself and what just happened. I want you to be okay, Y/n. I might be able to help.”

You let out a breath, quivering. “I see things, and I hear things. And they tell me bad things. They tell me to hurt myself, and to kill myself. They never leave me alone. They want me to die. They make me believe I want to die. The doctor calls it schizophrenia. I call it my own death sentence.” Your words slipped from your throat. JJ didn’t pull away, instead, he lay a hand on your thigh and ran a finger through your hair.

“Are they talking right now?” He whispered, and you nodded, tears creating a damp spot on your shirt. He nodded back, and held your fingertips against his own. “I need you to listen to only my voice, y/n. Focus on my voice. I know it's hard, but you have to.

“I’m so thankful you told me. I was so worried about you. I still am. But I can try to help you now. You aren’t alone anymore. You will always be importa-” JJ’s voice faded and you looked over away from his eyes at the Haunter’s, who were starting to reappear.

“I’m right here, Y/n. Look at me, I’m right here.” He touched the sides of your face and positioned your eyes so they stared into his own.

“You will always be important to me. I’m willing to fight with you. I love you so much, and you can’t let them tell you differently.”

“I don’t even know if you are real, JJ. I can’t tell anymore. I want to believe you, I promise. But it’s really hard.”

JJ lead your hands to his sides, where his hips met his body, and then to his stomach and abs, and to his shoulders, and around to the sides of his face. “I”m real. I’m right here, and I’m real. I know it's hard to believe me. I understand. But for me, you need to. I can’t lose the only thing that I don’t want to burn. I’m real. And I’m here for you.”

[hoe-doroki]

Can I have a bakugou smut where he had just come home from a hard day and he needs to blow off some steam and the reader has been horny all day so she/they do whatever he says. Sorry if this was long, it's ok if you don't do it. Thank you 🙏❤

Omg, not too long at all! Seriously, for requests for me, generally the more details the better, especially for what kinks you may or may not like, because then I can better cater it to you! Since you didn’t specify, you’re stuck with choking, degradation, and exhibitionism, because I like them, oops. Sorry it’s taken me so long to write this—I’ve been so excited about it the whole time but…there’s no but, I just didn’t write it until now 🤷‍♀️

minors do not interact

warnings: 18+, exhibitionism, degradation, choking, biting/marking, slight possessiveness

wc: 3.1k

a/n: Thanks to @dymphnasprose for making this gorgeous banner for me!

edit: I no longer write x reader but here’s my old masterlist - mobile | desktop

You heard him before you saw him.

It was the ding of the elevator that was first audible from the dining room table where you were working on your computer. Then you heard the heavy clomp of Katsuki’s boots coming down the hallway, already painting a picture of a frustrating day on the job.

When he shouldered his way in the front door, you saw that he was still in his full hero uniform. The roots of his hair were dark with sweat and Katsuki’s ire seemed to have made it all the way down to his fingertips, where he was clumsily batting at his shoelaces. As if anger and a glare would force them undone quicker than a nimble touch.

“Rough day?” you commented, standing up from the dark mahogany table and walking over to your boyfriend. Your hands were on your hips as you looked down at where he was bent over in the entryway.

He grunted as he cast his boot off. If he were outside, that shoe would have been flung halfway down the block, possibly with smoke coming off it. Inside your home, however, even the angriest Katsuki could only manage an angry shove before moving onto his next obstacle.

You didn’t press for more. You just watched as the second boot came off and your boyfriend stood up, knees cracking. He probably hadn’t so much as stretched at the end of his shift. He looked wound tight in every way, from his clenching fingers to the tension scrunching his face.

“Fucking cops stole the villain from under my nose,” Katsuki said.

The kitchen was just a few steps away, so you filled a glass of water and offered it to him. He downed it in a few gulps and was probably just a couple measures of force short from breaking the glass as he smacked it back down on the counter.

“But they were captured?” you asked. “That’s good.”

“The only good thing about it is that now they’re the ones that have to do the paperwork,” Katsuki growled. “I told fucking five-head that if I’m not needed, I might as well come home.”

Five-head was the name Katsuki used for his manager—with a deeply receding hairline—at the agency. Fortunately, Katsuki had only let the nickname slip to the guy’s face…a handful of times.

“Sounds like a rough day,” you said as Katsuki took his gauntlets off, treating them with more care than he had his boots. “You know, I’ve been a little bit…frustrated today too.”

Katsuki’s eyes, piercing when outlined by the dark cling of his mask, flicked towards you, hearing your intentionally placed drawl immediately. “That so?”

His tone was suspicious. Maybe it should have been, by the upward pull on your lips as you leaned in close to him, stroking his arm, still hot and damp from a day on patrol.

“Yeah.” You pouted, making your tone intentionally whiny as you blinked big, round eyes at him. “Or do you not remember this morning?”

That morning had been on your mind all fucking day. Katsuki’s alarm had woken you up, as it always did, and after the ringing had faded from your ears, your body had honed in on a different sense. Specifically, the morning wood that had been pressing hard against your ass. The boner that you’d wiggled back against, moaning as you trailed your fingers up and down your boyfriend’s arm—not unlike you were right now. Katsuki had kissed you on the cheek, and then on the mouth, and you’d expected a quickie before work. You’d felt yourself growing wet at the possibility, your cheeks heating at his touch.

But then he’d pulled away and left the room before you could so much as whimper in protest. It was like he hadn’t even noticed. Like his dick hadn’t been the one to start it.

You watched the memory from many hours ago work its way onto Katsuki’s face. An eyebrow rose—you could tell even from under the mask—and a low fire lit behind his eyes. “That?”

You leaned into his ear, latching yourself around his side so that your thigh just brushed against his groin and whispered, “I’ve been thinking about it all day.”

“Always so fucking desperate for me, huh?” Katsuki rasped, grabbing your thigh with his gloved hand and wrapping your leg around his waist. “You’re lucky I’m not cooled down yet.”

When his lips met yours, they were aggressive, pent up. You could taste the salt of forgotten trails of sweat that had run from his mask down his lips. He smelled manly with it, and smoky from his quirk.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard you forget about this morning,” Katsuki said roughly before digging his teeth into your neck.

“All talk?” you asked your voice coming out as a gasp.

You were met with Katsuki placing both of his large hands on your ass, pressing your core against his hardening length. The pants on his hero costume were loose enough that he had room to grow and tent—or he would, if you weren’t grinding down on him without any pretense hiding your desperation.

Then, he let go of you. His hands were gone from your ass, mouth abandoning your neck. Without his support, you stumbled back, looking at him in confusion.

Katsuki, however, was grinning at you, lips shiny and flushed pink. “Strip for me, baby.”

After Katsuki’s inadvertent tease that morning, you hadn’t been able to help yourself and had dressed a little sexier than usual. You weren’t going to let Katsuki ignore you this time around.

You took off your clothes piece by piece, your eyes lingering on the garments and then flicking up to Katsuki, taking him in as he unzipped his pants and pulled his fat cock out. He stroked himself until you were left in nothing but a matching bra and panty set. Both were orange, matching the X over his chest and the palms of the gloves he’d just slapped to the floor.

“Fuck, baby,” he growled, taking a step toward you, hand never leaving his cock, “this is just what I needed.”

You were prepared to drop to your knees, stretch your mouth around that juicy cock, already glistening with precum right at the tip. Katsuki followed your gaze and caught your chin with just one finger, forcing your eyes up to his.

“There’s no need for that, sweetness,” he said. “Apparently, you’ve been patient all day. So if you’re a good girl and do what I say, you can have this cock right away. How’s that sound?”

“Good,” you said, nodding eagerly.

“Right answer,” Katsuki said, moving his hand to run his thumb under the band of your bra. His hand was feathering over the clasp when, suddenly, he snapped the elastic, earning a yelp out of you. “Now fucking strip.”

You removed your bra in a hurry, then your panties, leaving yourself totally bare to Katsuki’s roving eyes. Meanwhile, he was still dressed in the entirety of his hero costume, save for his boots, gloves and gauntlets. The spikes behind his mask were still in place, as was his belt. The only thing unusual was his thick cock hanging out of those black pants.

“Good girl,” Katsuki whispered. “Now be a good little slut and open the curtains.”

You stared at Katsuki for a moment. The windows took up the whole wall, floor to ceiling of your main living space. You lived near the top of your building—with the curtains open, you would barely be visible to the street, unless someone had a zoom quirk. But there were neighboring skyscrapers that would offer a view right into your apartment.

However, Katsuki didn’t have patience to spare today.

“I’ll go into our room and cum on my fucking hand if you don’t open the curtains.”

His eyes were stern, but not hard. Behind his mask, there was enough openness that you knew if you said your safe word he’d pull you into him, apologize into your neck just loud enough for you to hear, and make love to you slowly in missionary on your bed with all the windows drawn.

But this wasn’t a missionary kind of day.

You cocked your chin and walked past the leather couch and dining table over to the window. The curtains were drawn so that there wouldn’t be a glare on your laptop, but now you opened them, slowly but steadily. On your high floor, the afternoon sun was on the same plane as you. It was catching those late afternoon shades of bright orange that draped you in strands of golden luxe.

“You like that?” Katsuki asked when you looked over your shoulder, looking perhaps a little too self-satisfied. “You like everyone seeing what a slut you are? How fucking gorgeous you are?”

You could only moan as Katsuki came up behind you, catching your bare breasts in both hands and rocking his cock against your ass, just like that morning, but without the separation of your clothes.

“The thing is, sweetheart,” Katsuki whispered between kisses on your already bruising neck, “if anyone’s gonna see you like this, they’re gonna haveta see that you belong to me.”

One of Katsuki’s hands drifted back to his cock and slid it between your legs, through the stickiness that was already clinging to your thighs. He kicked your legs wider to make room for himself, thrusting between your pussy lips, forcing you to lean forward against the window for leverage. His dick dragged against your clit very intentionally, pulling groans out of you as your hips naturally rocked with his.

“So wet already,” Katsuki commented. “You really have been desperate for my cock all day, haven’t you? Did you touch yourself waiting for me?”

You’d thought about it. When Katsuki had left and you’d still felt that initial heat between your legs, you’d considered pulling out your wand and cumming against its rumbly, reliable vibrations. Your fingers had been itching for it, pussy craving the speedy finish it would provide.

“No,” you whined. “I didn’t.”

“Good girl.”

Your forehead fell against the window, eyes closed in the bright sunlight as the meaty head of his cock began to split you open.

“This what you wanted?”

“Yes,” you breathed, leaning your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes as he sunk into you. He claimed to be rewarding you for your patience all day, yet was going slow enough for you to feel every inch. You squeezed around him purposefully, trying to suck him in faster. He acted like he didn’t notice.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Katsuki said when he finally bottomed out. He sat there for a moment, kissing your neck as you continued to flutter hopelessly around him. Then he pulled out and rammed back into you in one go, nearly knocking the wind out of you.

Katsuki cackled, squeezing the meat of your thighs in both hands as he pounded into you. “Do you really think I’d do this for everyone to see if I was going to do anything less than fuck your brains out?”

All that powerlessness that Katsuki had felt at work was now being turned around into sheer might—metabolized frustration being taken out on your poor pussy. He hadn’t been able to capture that villain, but now he had you in his clutches. That unutilized strength was forcing your breasts and one cheek flat against the glass as he let your body have it.

“Katsuki,” you whined. “More.”

“So desperate and needy today, aren’t we sweetness?” Katsuki said, driving his hips forward even harder. You could feel one of the grenades on his belt smacking dangerously against your ass. It was like Dynamight had found you on the street and dragged you down a back alley to fuck while on patrol. “Lucky for you, you’re asking for something I want too.”

You’d riled something up in Katsuki. In a mood like this, he might use you, cream his cock deep inside you and let you think that he was gonna leave you like that for a good few minutes before finishing you off on his tongue or his fingers, or going another round. But it seemed as though you’d just managed to maneuver yourself onto his good side today. He wanted the satisfaction of you squeezing around him, milking his cum out of him at least once.

One of Katsuki’s hands crept up your side until it reached your neck, gripping around it but not yet pressing in. His lips were on your ear, biting your lobe before whispering, “Is this what you wanted?”

“Yes.”

The end of the word came out as a hiss as Katsuki’s thick fingers closed around your throat. His other hand crept to the front of your pubic bone, flattening the hair there as the tip of his pinky reached just above your clit. Intentionally not making contact under the guise of just being able to hold you closer to his driving hips.

Your face grew hot as Katsuki pressed against your windpipe, against the veins so that you felt your throttled heartbeat begin its desperate dance. As your breath grew short, everything became sharper. Katsuki’s cock hitting right against your g-spot suddenly hit less like sparks and more like a thick stroke of fire with every go.

“You like that, huh?” Katsuki taunted as he pulled your neck against his shoulder, his thumb and middle finger nearly meeting behind your neck. “You like me fucking choking you for the world to see? So everyone can see what a dirty whore you are?”

It wasn’t like you could respond with his hand that tight around your throat. You could do little more than whimper, the vibrations buzzing against the rough calluses on his palm.

“Heh, that’s what I fucking thought.”

The power trip only seemed to be stoking Katsuki’s spirit as he pounded you unabashedly in the window. You were bracing yourself with one forearm but used the other to rest on top of the hand he had just over your sex. You just wanted to urge him just a few more millimeters south. A few blessed moments of contact on your aching clit would tip you over the edge, you were sure. But Katsuki only pushed you forward, trapping your hand and his against the cold glass, condensation framing around your hot touch.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he said, his voice low and so far from apologetic. “I thought it was this cock you were so desperate for? And here I am, already so generous with my hand on your beautiful throat. ‘S that not enough for you or something?”

It wasn’t, and he knew it. His cock hitting your sweet spot and his hand keeping you just on this side of passed out would edge you from now until eternity. It would leave you burning in your core, dripping down your thighs, and desperate to cum until your dying breath. But it would never have you squeezing around him, never falling boneless against his chest. Not if he didn’t touch you.

Just when you were giving up, just when you were able to focus on little more than your head growing light, your vision narrowing on the blades of orange light on the buildings in front of you, Katsuki’s last three fingers came together, threading through your fuzz before they swiped furiously over your clit.

You jerked forward so hard Katsuki lost his grip on your neck, allowing you to cry out full throated as your orgasm took over, crashing into you with more power than you’d felt in months. Air felt like water as you gasped, nonsense falling from your lips as your thighs shook and Katsuki wrapped his now free hand around your waist to keep you upright.

Your raucous orgasm had Katsuki was groaning too, barely leaving your cunt as the last couple thrusts urged his seed out of him, painting your walls before you were done quivering yourself. Your cheek was flat against the glass as Katsuki leaned his forehead against you, breathing heavily once his orgasm had washed over him.

“Shit, how’s a guy not supposed to bust when you do that,” he said, slipping out of you and placing a chaste kiss on your shoulder. “Clamping around me like a fucking vice and screaming like that. If the neighbors didn’t see you, they sure fucking heard you.”

You might have mindlessly apologized, if you weren’t still struggling to get your breath back under you, your own recovery taking much longer than Katsuki’s. You felt him leave your back, your eyes blinking open to see the translucent reflection of him leaving the window as the sun fell behind one of the city’s many skyscrapers.

A moment later, you felt a washcloth between your legs, swiping at the combined cum that was already dribbling down your thigh. The cloth slowly trailed up and you shivered when Katsuki softly swiped it over your too sensitive pussy. Then the washcloth was gone from his hands and he was on your shoulders, gently kneading out the tension there as you lolled your head side to side to stretch.

“God, I needed that,” Katsuki said quietly. “You alright?”

“Yeah, that was amazing,” you replied, your voice raspy but dreamy as you began your slow descent back to Earth.

“Course it was.”

You turned around, raising an unamused eyebrow at Katsuki’s smirk and then walked back over to the corner of the room to pull the blinds back in place. Now that your lust was receding, you had no interest in flashing your tits and wrecked pussy to the neighbors.

“God, I need to take a fucking shower,” Katsuki said as he started dismantling his costume, starting with his mask. He hardly seemed to notice as he took off his neck brace and then his tank that he was giving you the exact same kind of strip tease that you’d given him just a few minutes ago.

“A shower?” you asked coquettishly as you sidled over to the dining table he was placing his costume onto. “Might there be room for two in this shower?”

“No,” Katsuki answered quickly, placing his grenades one by one on his shirt so they wouldn’t roll away. He didn’t so much as glance at you.

“No?”

Katsuki looked serious as he kept his eyes focused on his task, bending down to unstrapping his knee pads. When he stood up straight again, his grin was devilish.

“I think I like it better when you’re frustrated.”

[svnaslove]

let me love you.

summary: Tendou is insecure that one day you’ll stop loving him

genre: angst, fluff resolve 

characters: Tendou Satori 

warnings: Tendou [mentions of varying levels of insecurity; holding back emotions in beginning.]

Tendou Satori | 天童 | boyfriend

You were not blind. You had known Tendou for far too long, you have been in love with him and had stuck by his side and listened to all of his stories for far too long to not notice. Something was wrong. 

You always knew about your boyfriends’ way of covering up his insecurities by building a wall and deflecting anything that could get to his feelings by rebounding with some joke or a random song. Yet you were the only one that had the key to unlock the tiny door on that wall and go inside to him. To be with him. To love him him and not his silly songs, but HIM.

So it confused you when you noticed that Tendou was acting odd today and whenever you would ask him what was wrong he would shrug it off a little too happily, a smile that was a little too big to be natural.

You were hanging out at his practice like you always did to watch him play and to support him. But you could tell something was off. And every time he came back to sit next to you for a few seconds to take a water break your sad look only saddened more when he acted so out of himself. 

You tilted your head, “Satori, baby, are you okay?” you ask, you voice laced with concern.

Tendou looked at you, his eyes softened at your concern but you watched them harden again in a way of a screen being pushed forward just as fast. He stuck a thumb up and grinned a huge grin, “of course i am !! are you okay ?? you look a little sad. we can get ice cream after this okay ??!?” 

He ran off before you could even muster an answer in your mind, leaving you baffled sitting by yourself once again.

You felt guilt pull at one of your heartstrings when you noticed that your question seemed to have affected Tendou. He wasn’t doing so hot before, and now? He seemed to miss the ball nearly every time. But he just kept shaking it off and laughing it off. It was worrying you and you felt like you were about to cry seeing his current state.

Tendou had just been switched off by the coach for the practice match. You walked over to where he was sitting to make sure that he was okay. You couldn’t give up just like that. You knew something was wrong and you had to figure it out. You had to help him because seeing him like this just hurt too much. 

Tendou noticed your presence closing in towards him where he was sitting out from the game and smiled. “hiiiiii, i keep messing up don’t i? don’t worry, next time im in i’ll make sure to make you happy!!” he exclaimed again.

You grabbed hold of his hand and you felt his hand twitch at the sudden touch, “I’m okay, but are you sure you’re doing alright? You know you don’t have to keep playing if you’re not doing okay right now, it’s just practice, and you have to put yourself first.” You pleaded him, trying to reach his eyes, but his gaze kept averting. 

“I’m alright!!~ the practice match is almost over and then we just have to clean up and we can go somewhere together, okAy?” he responded, his voice was starting to waver and the voice crack gave away his emotions, before you could do anything, Tendou was being called back into the game.

fuck.

This hurt so much. Watching Tendou like this hurt so much and it felt like you were too far from him to pry him back to you. But you don’t give a damn, you would climb mountains and swim oceans for this boy and this little stump won’t stop you from loving him and showing him how much he means to you.

You try to patiently wait for the set to finish meaning the end of practice. It’s hard. Your eyes following Tendou wherever he went, even with his words of assurance and the fight in his eyes to fight whatever deep dark emotion in him that was halting his world right now, you could see he was about to break. And if you don’t help him soon this just might break you too.

The whistle sounds and you run to Tendou, “hiii baby wha — “

Tendou is caught out of breath as you rush to him, tugging at his jersey to go outside.

Once you reach outside everything feels like it’s breaking through, all of your emotions of worry spill over like a nasty tsunami, “Stop it Satori, you need to stop it because I care about you too much. You need to talk to me, you need to tell me what’s wrong, you need to let me help you because if you don’t I don’t think I will be okay, I love you too much Satori, please.” you beg, your heavy chest giving in to the pressure and a straggled sob leaves your lips as you plead to him. Your lip quivering and your eyes glazed over threatening to spill.

Tendou can’t even muster words and he simply falls apart. His eyes set heavy tears as he starts sobbing too, he grabs you and holds you tight at your torso. “I- I’m sorry.” he hiccups as the tears keep falling down his cheek, getting caught in your pretty blouse. His hold on you was so tight, but you never wanted him to let go.

“I-I just love you so much, I-” A strangled sound leaves his throat followed by a hiccup, his fingers tighten on your shirt, “I’m just s-so scared that one day I w-won’t be good enough, I want to be with you, I want to be with you forever, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me y/n, I want to be good for you forever. B-but I’m scared of what will happen if you find someone b-better.” he confesses, the top of his head pressed on your stomach with you standing and him sitting on a near bench, his gaze is to the ground as he watches his tears trickle down from his pretty eyes to the pavement.

You kneel down to be eye level to him sitting on the bench. Your eyes were puffy from crying just as much as him, you cheeks glistened to the sun due to the salty tears that spilled from your eyes like the watering of daisies you had done only this morning.

You held his two hands on your own, caressing them, rubbing circles with your thumb. You started to kiss his hands softly as if planting pretty roses on his skin. His fingers, his palm, the back of his hand. He watches you curiously, his heart felt as if it could melt to your affection. 

You then place each of your hands on either side of his face, looking at his beautiful dark brown eyes that held a shade of red. His own eyes searched yours. “Tendou,” you started, a soft smile on your face softening your features further with the golden sunset light saying its’ farewells until night leaving one last show of pretty pinks and oranges in the sky. “There no such thing as someone better for me than you.”

You watched his features change at the sound of your words, at the sound of your true honesty, because you were right, there was no such thing. Tendou was the only one you could ever love this much, there was no better, he was the better. A soft blush painted on his cheeks. Your thumb caressed his cheek.

“There’s no such thing as someone better for me than you either y/n.” he smiled in mirror to your own.

More tears threatened at both Tendou and your own eyes, but this time it was due to the swell of your hearts.

“I love you, okay?” you sniffed, the soft smile still playing amongst your features.

“I love you too.” he replied, his head tilting to your left hand on his cheek that had been stroking his cheek.

You both slowly became closer, trying to take in the face of the one that they loved as much as possible before closing your eyes. Your eyes closed and your lips met. It was a soft kiss, not one of any meaning other than the essence of your shared love, the start of all the honesty as possible of any insecurities and feelings you had for one another and the purity of affection that you held for one another, the pure love of the willingness to sacrifice anything for the other. No walls. Because when you allowed each other to love one another, it was as if you were one.

His lips brushed soft on your own, the taste of salty mixed tears tickled your taste buds. There was no want from either side to pull away, because this moment right here, it could be replayed for eternities and both of you would be okay with that, this moment was not one where the world existed. It was truly, only you, and Tendou. 

[luminnara]

Goddamn, Shit-Sucking Vampires | lost boys x oc 18+ ONLY | Ch 3

Summary: Vera is an unusually vicious bloodsucker who's never stuck in one place for very long...until a mysterious feeling pulls her right to the murder capital of the world: Santa Carla, California. Now, she needs to figure out why exactly she's there, where she fits in amongst the boardwalk's nighttime denizens, and how to cope with her own personal vampire-related problems.

Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four

Taglist: @ilikechocolatemilkh​

Warnings: smutty smut, language, blood

“Hello, darling.”

He had been quick to take her lips with his, kissing her hungrily as she moved to straddle his lap. Before they could get too comfortable, he stood, carrying her in the direction the others had gone but stopping in a room along the way. It had been a hotel room once, a bed covered in silks like the ones from the main cavern still sitting in the middle. 

He tossed her down onto it, watching as she stretched out on her back languidly. She was so inviting. A low rumble rose in his chest as he took his coat off, leaving it on the floor with his boots and gloves. All he could pay attention to was her bare midriff and those exposed thighs, her crop top and short shorts barely leaving anything to his imagination. She sat up and shrugged her vest off, throwing it to the floor as she held eye contact with him. She was smiling the way someone did when they were keeping a juicy secret, a glint of something in her eyes as she leaned forward. 

“David,” she purred, beckoning for him with her fingers. “Come and take care of me.”

He happily crossed the space between them, crawling over her until he could kiss her again. Her hands slid up his forearms, feeling his cool skin and the muscles underneath it. He pushed her back down and she complied, biting sharply at her bottom lip.

“I want you, Vera,” he growled, sending warmth spreading through her core. 

She moaned, hands moving to his waist, slipping under his shirt. “Then take me.”

He couldn’t help himself. His hips met hers, his arousal grinding against her. He wanted her to feel what she did to him, to have some tiny inkling of what it was like to see and smell and feel her. 

“You do horrible things to me,” he breathed.

Her nails were sharp against his skin as she lightly scratched down his sides. “You can handle it.”

Chills ran down his spine and he laughed, the little grumble returning to his chest as he pinned her against the bed with his weight. “You’re mine.”

Vera watched as his face vamped out, eyes blazing yellow-orange as he snarled above her. She shivered in delight, a smile on her lips as his claws tore through her shirt and raked down her belly, ugly red marks fading almost as quickly as they appeared.

“You like it rough?” She teased, moving her knees to either side of his hips. 

With a playful snarl, he bit at her collarbone, earning a squeal. “I like it however I want.”

Vera gave a little growl and reached for his pants, tugging them open and slipping her hand in to feel him. His breathing grew heavier as he pressed his hips against her touch, desperately searching for more contact. 

“A little eager, aren’t we?” She teased, giving him a squeeze. 

“I can smell how wet you are,” his voice was husky, hand trailing down to reach her shorts. “Do you want something?”

She whined as he ripped her clothing, but she couldn’t be angry with him on top of her, nor could she be angry when he was pushing a finger inside of her. She let out the most delicious noise David had ever heard, her back arching as he pressed up into her. It had been long, far too long since she had had this.

“What was that?” He asked, twisting his hand.

She did it again, but louder, and he decided it was his favorite thing in the entire world. 

“You’re awful,” she gasped, wrapping her legs around his waist in an attempt to pull him closer. 

He smirked as he explored her, feeling wherever he pleased, playing with her as she moaned and squealed on top of the sheets. He learned what spots made her make which noises, and he watched as she snarled and sneered and taunted him. She was feisty, clawing at him as she urged him to get on with it, reaching up to kiss him whenever she had the ability to do so. 

It wasn’t until he made her orgasm that she vamped out, but when she did, she really did. She hissed and growled at him, becoming a wildcat that he was more than happy to subdue. He was losing control of himself as it was, chest heaving as he looked down at the most beautiful sight he had ever had the privilege of seeing. The swell of her breasts, the welts that formed and quickly disappeared whenever he bit at her boobs, the creamy, soft, gorgeous skin that he wanted to kiss and suck and maul all at the same time...it was perfect, and so was her muscular stomach, toned by so many years of being an apex predator, and so was her thick ass, and her thighs, and…

All of her. 

When he kicked his pants off and finally got to hear her cry his name, he thought he was going to lose it then and there. She felt perfect, clinging to him with her nails in his back and her fangs in his shoulder as she sobbed and snarled against his skin. She writhed beneath him, twisting and constantly trying to flip them so that she could top him. Whenever he felt her tense up as if she was about to, he would thrust into her harder, making her forget that she ever wanted to be anywhere but underneath her new mate. 

Until he finally relented and let her twist her hips, and then he realized he was absolutely fine with letting her call the shots.

“It’s not so bad, is it?” She crooned, leaning down to kiss him. Her voice was raspy when she was fully vamped out, a monstrous, snarly, beautifully sweet kind of voice that mesmerized David and left him in a haze. 

He only grunted in response, hands gripping her hips as she rode him. His eyes were glued to her as he took in the way she looked, her black hair a mess, her generous, perfect breasts bouncing slightly. He slid his hands up to cup them, squeezing and kneading and grinning when she bit her lip.

Blood ran down her chin, dripping down onto David’s chest. When he pulled her down to kiss her and get a taste, he bit her sharply, grinning when she squealed. She was funny, and delightful, and beautiful, and he had never felt that way about any girl he had fucked. There were beautiful ones, yes, but none like her. No one that he wanted to keep around. 

He knew it was all because of his hormones, ancient vampire instincts that were urging him to make Vera his and impress her enough that she stayed. He didn’t know why he was so concerned with what she thought, especially because she seemed pretty content, based on her whines and moans, but he had the need to do everything in his power to show that he was worthy of her time. 

They rolled again, David still sucking at Vera’s lip. She resisted a tiny bit, stubbornly locking her hips and thighs in an attempt to brace herself against him, but as he rolled his hips forward, she relaxed into a puddle of happy moans. When he felt her nails digging into his back, he knew she was close, and he was more than happy to suck at her neck while she said his name over and over and over. 

He buried himself deep into her when he finally came, grunting and whispering “Fuck, Vera…” in her ear until he finished and pulled back, panting as he looked down at her. She was a mess, black hair splayed across the bed, blood running from her lip and throat. 

With a smirk, David hooked his hand under her knee and brought it up for him to kiss, leaning his head against it as he watched her. “You’re beautiful.”

She opened her eyes, smiling and showing her bloody teeth. “Come here, big guy.” 

David happily complied, releasing her leg and flopping down next to her. He didn’t bother looking for either of their clothes and just wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her up against him. He would have preferred to go roost with the others, but she was already dozing off in his arms, and who was he to try to make her move? 

“Vera?” He asked, deep voice rumbling as she tucked her head in his chest.

“Hm?” She grunted sleepily.

He could tell she was barely awake, and his own eyelids were drooping as he pressed a kiss against the top of her head. “Stay. Forever.”

“Mhm,” she mumbled, snuggling as close to him as she could get. 

David made a pleased sound, not unlike a purr, and busied himself by playing with her hair until he passed out, surrounded by her scent, happier than he had been in a long time. 

-0-

Paul woke up slightly warmer than usual, which was odd, considering how generally cool the sunken hotel was. His mind was heavy and fuzzy, but it felt warm, too, and when he finally forced his eyes open, he figured out why.

“Marko,” he slurred. “The hell you doin’?”

The smaller vampire only grunted and snuggled closer. 

Paul sighed, but he really didn’t mind. It wasn’t the first time he had woken up to find Marko cuddling up to him. Sometimes, if he was a little drunk or high, Paul would even initiate it. David would rarely tolerate any kind of physical closeness, but if he was in a good mood, he allowed them to roost right up next to him. Dwayne was similar, rarely starting anything, but unlike their leader, he tended to growl and complain a lot less if Marko wanted some snuggle time. 

With a yawn, Paul shook himself lightly, sleepily looking around the cave. Marko had tucked himself right up under Paul’s chin, already fast asleep again, and Dwayne was hanging nearby, arms crossed over his chest as he snored softly. David was absent, and Paul cracked a smile when he remembered why. 

He searched for David’s mind and found him still fast asleep, but...happy. He could pick up the faintest scent of sex lingering in the air and it made his mouth water, hunger pains suddenly shooting through him. His turn with Vera would be soon, but he didn’t know if he could bear the wait. 

A little growl rose in his throat. He wanted her. He hated that David got to have her first, when he deserved her more. Paul was usually a pretty relaxed guy, preferring to get high and fool around than do anything serious, but when it came to this...he was feeling oddly savage about it. He would probably never openly defy David, who always looked out for all of the boys and proved himself to be a good leader over and over, but Vera was making him anxious. The more he woke up, the more restless he grew, until he finally gave Marko a little shove and disentangled himself from his clingy brother. 

Marko whined in protest as Paul dropped to the ground, dropping down after him just seconds later. “What’s the big deal?”

“I wanna go check on our new girl, bro,” Paul said, grinning as he dusted his sleeves off. “David’s had her all to himself long enough.”

Marko followed him out into the corridor, drooling slightly as the scents of Vera and sex grew stronger and stronger. “Smells like they had fun.”

“Too much fun,” Paul growled as they stopped in the doorway. 

The bed was a mess, sheets and silks torn to shreds. The pillows had somehow survived, and the old bed frame was still holding up, and both Paul and Marko made notes to themselves to change those when they got the chance. In the midst of it all, though, was a sight that made them hum happily; Vera was curled up on her side, perfectly happy and perfectly naked, tucked safely up against David. 

“Fuck off,” he growled sleepily when he noticed them standing there.

They only inched forward, Paul daring to venture further into the room while Marko hung back behind him. “You look a little exposed there, David. Why not take a break from guarding our little chickadee to go find some pants?”

The loud snarl that tore through David’s throat was enough to wake Vera, and she squirmed and whined in protest. Paul immediately turned his attention to her, bravely crossing the room and going so far as to lean over the foot of the bed, but David’s warning grumbles were enough to keep him from touching the female. 

Vera was finally opening her eyes to take in the scene around her when David pulled her up against him. She gave a little growl and pushed him away, struggling to prop herself up on her elbow so that she could reach out to Paul. David was being selfish, and she was already getting the feeling that all four of them were going to be almost impossible to handle. 

“C’mere,” she said tiredly, smiling and cupping Paul’s cheek when he rushed forward and leaned over her. 

David huffed.

“You shush,” Vera snapped at him. 

Marko snickered as he came up behind Paul, hoping to get some of the sugar that Vera was dishing out. David let out a dramatic sigh, sitting up and pulling Vera up against his chest while she cooed and taunted Paul, talking to him as if he were a dog while he just beamed at her adoringly. 

“What a good boy you are,” she laughed as she pinched his cheeks. “Not at all snarly like that mean old David…”

Paul growled happily. If he had a tail, it would be wagging, and David rolled his eyes at the display. Instead of saying anything snarky, though, he just nipped at the back of Vera’s neck, hands sliding around her sides to rest on her belly. He was feeling mellower now that he could wrap himself around her, and when he caught Marko creeping up around Paul, he didn’t even growl. 

“And of course, poor Marko, so ignored,” Vera giggled as she pulled him forward to kiss his nose. He and Paul were practically melting over her, happy hums and purrs filling the room. 

“Good evening,” Marko said slyly as he nuzzled his cheek against Vera’s. 

“Good evening, my little cherub,” Vera cooed, kissing his nose again and smiling when he scrunched it up. He was a mischievous little thing, but she was getting the feeling that he had to have a nasty streak, too; that sweet face and excited grin were both too innocent for him not to be hiding an ugly side. 

“I’m starving,” David mumbled, leaning his chin on top of Vera’s head. Vera had almost worn him out, since she had woken up sometime in the middle of the day and demanded more from him. He had happily obliged, of course, but now he was hungry, and whenever David was hungry, David was irritated. 

“You go get food, and I’ll stay here with—“

“You’re coming too, Paul.”

“But it’s my—“

“I would love a night on the boardwalk,” Vera interrupted, detangling herself from what was becoming a puddle of happy vampires. Marko let out a little whine as she slipped past him and began searching for her clothes, but Paul managed to grab her around the waist and scoop her up, one hand on her ass, the other on her back as he held her.

“Who says you need clothes?” He growled playfully, nipping at her cheek. 

She gave a little squeak as she struggled against him. “I do!”

“I disagree,” Marko said slyly, slipping up behind her and kissing the back of her neck. 

She swatted him away, wiggling out of Paul’s grip to search the floor and find whatever clothes she could still salvage. David had ripped a fair amount of them, but he had also been kind enough to bring her small backpack in sometime during the day, so she was at least left with one outfit. 

Paul and Marko watched as she got dressed, Marko biting his thumb in an attempt to keep himself under control. She made him hungry, in a way he wasn’t used to. It wasn’t the same as bloodlust or even normal human cravings; it was something else entirely, but it still made him ache and whine and wish that he could make it go away already. 

Vera pulled on a thong and a ratty pair of denim shorts, turning her back to the boys as she grabbed a bra and a tank top. They all had a good view of the tattoos on her back, snakes winding around skulls and portraits of women that were brightly colored and beautiful. Marko wanted to trace them, with either his fingers or his tongue, he wasn’t picky. Not very many girls around Santa Carla were marked up the way she was, and all he could think of when he looked at her was how she was such a work of art.

“Finished staring?” She asked, glancing over her shoulder. 

Paul slid up next to her, an arm around her waist. “Never, dollface.”

Vera huffed but settled in against his side. “I need more clothes. You guys got any cash?”

“Now that,” Paul spun them to face David, who was pulling his coat on, “is a question for papa bear over here.”

David gave a little growl, but reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash as he strode towards them. “Anything for the lady.”

Vera reached for it but he snatched it away, shoving it back in his pocket. She gave a little growl but followed at his heels as he left the room, Marko and Paul running along behind. They collected Dwayne as he was leaving their roost, and Vera was surprised when she caught his nostrils flaring and a quiet rumble rising in his chest. David smirked at his brother, lighting a cigarette as Laddie and Star met them in the main room. 

Vera looped her arm through David’s when she saw Star, trying to remain civil. The Halfling put her off somehow, and it wasn’t just because she was so ungrateful for the offer of immortality she kept stubbornly avoiding. There was something else that was just pissing Vera off, something about the way Star moped and so clearly hated the people that gave her a safe place to sleep and protection from the rest of the world. She almost seemed dangerous, as silly as that thought was; she wasn’t physically strong enough to do anything on her own, but the fact that she was so vocal about her displeasure made Vera suspicious that she might just be capable of betrayal.

Or maybe she was just being paranoid. 

“Chin up, girl,” Paul mocked. 

Star only scowled, following them out to the bikes. She climbed on behind David when Vera strutted past her to accept Paul’s outstretched hand, grimacing but remaining silent after Vera shot her a little snarl. 

Paul and Marko hooted with laughter as Vera climbed on and sat haughtily behind the former, unable to shake the unsettling feeling that Star was giving her. There was no logical reason for it; Star was only a Halfling, hardly anything to worry about. She had a fraction of Vera’s strength and none of her survival instincts, and should they ever face off, it would be a quick fight. All of that only made Vera more uneasy, but try as she might, she couldn’t figure out why. 

“Cheer up!” Paul shouted as his bike roared to life. 

“I’ll cheer up when I’m dead,” Vera teased, leaning up to kiss the side of his neck. 

A little jolt of electricity shot through him and he whooped, the bike tearing off in the direction of the boardwalk, Marko close behind. 

-0-

“Marko, be a dear and get me a lemonade?” Vera purred, leaning forward and brushing her fingers along his jaw. 

Marko shivered but grinned, catching her hand to kiss her palm before bouncing off in the direction of the lemonade stand. 

Vera smiled and sat back, hands clasped in her lap as she watched the crowd. There really were all types in Santa Carla, and she was surprised to find that she felt like she was beginning to fit in. 

Paul threw an arm around her waist as he leaned back against the rail she sat on, a joint in his other hand. The boardwalk had little in the way of law enforcement, thanks to the Lost Boys themselves taking officers out whenever they irritated them, so Paul was left to smoke his weed in peace for the most part. “So whaddya think, babe? Enjoying the nightlife?”

“I can get used to it.” She took a deep inhale and her smile widened at all of the scents the boardwalk was offering her. “I’m starving.”

David raised an eyebrow from where he was leaning on his bike. “Already?”

“Yes,” she shot back defensively.

“We just snacked,” Paul laughed. 

“And? I only had one boy.”

“You’re insatiable.” David said with the hint of a chuckle. Honestly, he was sort of glad that she was so much hungrier than he was. He was used to feeling annoyed at himself about it, but now he could just direct all of those thoughts towards teasing her.

Vera snorted angrily. “So? Don’t you know it’s rude to comment on a lady’s eating habits?”

“Just find it strange, considering how old you are.”

She growled. “It’s also rude to comment on a lady’s age, dickweed.”

He smirked in reply and she narrowed her eyes. She could care less about the age comment, because he was right; she wasn’t a newborn, by any means. She shouldn’t have such an unquenchable thirst for blood at this point. The boys all seemed content with one good meal a night, but she had already dragged one Surf Nazi into an alley and was on the lookout for another. 

It sure wasn’t normal, and she knew it. 

Dwayne was on her other side, leaning on the railing with his arms folded over his chest. He cast a glance towards her when he heard her huff and found that he couldn’t look away, and suddenly, he was busy memorizing every single detail about her face. 

She was beautiful, and he understood why the others liked her so much. Her lips were full and her complexion seemed like it was olive at some point before she became a creature of the night. Arched eyebrows furrowed when she narrowed those hazel eyes, a classical nose scrunching with displeasure. She had tied her hair up on top of her head, leaving her throat exposed in what could have been some sort of a dare, and Dwayne had to stop himself from leaning in and taking a bite. 

Maybe being patient was going to be harder than he thought. 

“One lemonade, for the lady,” Marko snickered as he shoved his way back through the crowd, lemonade in hand. He had heard their little discussion, and as he brought Vera her drink, he made a point of kissing her cheek. You know, like a gentleman would. 

“You little kiss ass,” Paul grumbled as Vera took the lemonade with a smile. 

Marko just winked and settled himself between Vera’s legs, a hand on each thigh as he grinned up at her. 

“Thank you, Marko,” she drawled, tangling her free hand in his curls affectionately. 

Paul only rolled his eyes and looked the other direction.

David watched them with amusement. They had been there for half an hour, just looking at the crowds while Star was off somewhere with Laddie. He could feel Max nudging at his mind, as he had been for the past hour, and finally, he gave a little snarl and let him in.

What? He snapped. 

I want to meet her, David. His sire answered. Bring her to me.

He couldn’t help but growl. After.

After what, exactly?

After everyone has had their chance. 

David felt him let out an irritated sigh, but he was going to stand his ground. Vera was making him cautious, and he wasn’t going to introduce her to the most powerful vampire he knew until they figured out just who all exactly she was destined to belong with. It was hard enough wrangling his pack without having to worry about Max butting in. 

Paul and Marko were fooling around and Vera was leaning against Dwayne when she was finally fed up enough to hop down from the railing. David raised an eyebrow at her when she put her hands on her hips and flared her nostrils in a not so subtle attempt to track down some food. 

“I’m hungry,” she declared, cocking her hip to one side as she glared at David.

“Why am I the subject of your wrath?” He quipped, waving her away dismissively. “Go find a snack if you’re so starved.”

Vera growled at his tone, but she was too hungry to try to challenge him. She wasn’t even sure where she was falling on their totem pole, and she had better things to do with her time than stand there and try to figure it out. 

“We’ll keep an eye on things.” David said with a glint in his eyes that revealed how much he enjoyed riling her up. 

Vera’s nasty snarl turned into a grin as she reached up to let her hair down, hips swaying as she disappeared into the crowd to find a boy stupid enough to go after her. 

“Is it a good idea to let her run off like that?” Marko asked, watching her go. 

“Max won’t bother her.” David straightened up. “And besides, she needs some enrichment.”

“You talk like she’s a zoo animal,” Dwayne snorted. “She doesn’t need time to play.”

“You’re right.” David smirked as he started off in the direction Vera had gone. “She needs to hunt.”

[cheesygroove]

With a roll of the ice

pairing: Wheein x f!reader

c & ws: smut; ice play; sensory deprivation; mentions of alcohol; a lil swearing.

wc: 2k~

requested by anon

Round ice cube molds. You could have just gone for a regular plastic ice tray, the cheaper option at the store. But if it can serve a sexual purpose, why not? The process of moving to a new place with your girlfriend had you overanalyzing the simplest home utensils you needed. It was good to have that kind of freedom to choose.

Wheein just had the simpler intentions for it, though. One night, you came home to find her drinking alone at the still empty living room, lights all turned off. The lighted up fireplace was the sole reason you could see her, sitting with legs crossed and a glass in hand. A bunch of bottles, a second glass and her sketchbook, as well as her drawing materials, were all scattered around the floor.

"Whee, what are you doing...?" you asked while taking your shoes off. "I thought your group photoshoot was tomorrow," you worried about her drinking; better to not have to deal with a headache on the next day.

"I'm just having some coke. The alcohol is for you," she explained. "Can you get the ice for us?"

Not wanting to ruin the mood she set up, you used your phone flashlight to walk to the kitchen. There, you grabbed an ice bucket and emptied the silicone trays inside, shaking it a little to prevent the round cubes from sticking together.

"I would have picked it up before, but I didn't want it to melt before you arrived," Wheein said when you came back and placed the bucket on the floor.

"It's okay, babe," you assured, kissing her cheek tenderly after sitting by the fireplace with her. "Anxious because of work?"

She let out a sigh. You knew her really well.

"Getting better already, actually. It's good to have you here." Wheein smiled at you, stroking your knee with her hand. "I just needed to relax a little. Tomorrow is going to be a full day."

You nodded, reaching for a glass and the bottle of flavored vodka. Being so close to the fireplace, you reconsidered the idea of picking a drink that would burn you up even more. The current warmth was nice and it felt cozy, but it could be too much if you added more heat to it.

"Settling for the coke too? What a saint you've become," Wheein teased. A soft drink could be nice too, you thought, leaving your now full glass on the floor to look at her. She held a round ice cube between her thumb and index finger, rolling it slightly by moving both fingers in opposite directions. Well, now that brought you some thoughts back.

"This kind of... feels good," Wheein said, puppy-like eyes entertained with the water now dripping from her thumb, "it doesn't get sticky when it melts a little. And it rolls."

Right. It rolls. You pictured something like that, back at the store, wondering if it really would have this effect against her skin. Not simply dragging the ice across, but rolling it, gave a different perspective to everything. You bit your lip in excitement, now knowing your fantasy was real.

And well, why not feel this for yourself? One hand went to the bucket, but you needed both to get the ice out — it got stuck together. You appreciated the round shape inside of your mouth, rolling it around with your tongue, feeling your warmth slowly melting it. You sucked on the ice a little bit, stopping when Wheein's eyes met yours.

"You look really sexy doing this," she remarked. A side smirk allowed one of her dimples to show up, which turned into a laugh after you touched your own cheek, feeling the small ball formed by the ice. "So pretty."

You admired Wheein for a moment. Weak shadows danced around her figure, following the movement of the flames; hair recently dyed red held up in a neat bun, leaving her neck fully exposed. Around it she wore a bandeau, neatly positioned so that it didn't cover her Caddo tattoo. You found that detail particularly inviting, and added to the fact that she clearly wasn't wearing a bra...

"Why don't you try this too?" you suggested. The ice had melted already, but the cold sensation it left in your mouth, somehow, had you feeling hotter between your legs. "You'll find the temperature contrast sexier than me."

Wheein's gaze went down to your mouth, filled with desire for your humid lips.

"Can I try it from your source?"

"Please do."

Wheein really did move first. The coolness of your mouth warmed up in hers, as she simply stole that from you by chasing the kiss with all her greed. You felt like the flames from the fireplace itself had engulfed you when her legs wrapped around your waist, pulling you to the floor with her. Although when your lips parted, she was the one craving to cool it down.

"Oh my," she was able to say while gasping for air. Holding you by the back of your neck with both hands, she placed a few more quick presses against your lips before speaking again, "Hmmmm. I liked that it was... unexpected. Your mouth felt so soft from the cold."

You smiled when her fingers delicately caressed your cheek, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear. Wheein had her eyes on something else while doing it, though. Still holding your weight over her body with your elbows, you looked over your shoulder to discover that she eyed the ice bucket.

"Wanna try that again? With more than a kiss?" you asked, full of a smug satisfaction because the question wasn't even necessary — Wheein's pleading face spoke for itself.

_____

"Love, you really trust me a lot for this, huh," you said while tying the bandeau to the back of her head to use it as a blindfold. Depriving her from the sense of sight was part of your original fantasy, a way to allow her to have a better focus on the hot and cold feeling.

Wheein sat between your spread legs, backing herself into your lap after you moved closer to the fireplace. The orange light of the fire was now able to fully glow on her naked body. The air felt thick and hot when you breathed in, and a little sweat started building up on your back.

"I trust you more than I probably should," she whispered, leaning on your shoulder to place a few kisses along your jawline, "but you always repay it well."

"Right," you agreed, gently undoing Wheein's bun and letting the hair fall on her shoulders, making contact with your bare chest. One hand gave it a gentle tug, while you stretched the other arm to reach for the ice bucket, taking a round ice out. It quickly started wetting your palm, being just perfect for what you wanted to do. You got her hair out of the way with a harsh pull, pressing the ice against her neck. "I always make you feel so good."

Wheein's first reaction was to recoil at the sudden cold feeling, gasping loudly, but you held the ice in place with a strong grip on her neck.

"Shhhh, Wheeinie," you whispered on her ear as her gasping slowly turned into moaning, pleased with you using your palm to roll the ice against her skin, "this is just a massage. We haven't even started yet."

When it melted into a piece too small to be rolled, you simply dragged it across her chest, stopping at an already hardened nipple. The sensation of her skin under your cooled fingers felt softer than usual, the increased sensitivity having you muttering a curse against the back of her neck. Your other hand fetched for more round ice while you still held her boob, squeezing her nipple. Water dripped from your fingers and rolled down her stomach.

"More. Please," Wheein begged impatiently. Her hands were on your thighs, which were reddening from her burying her nails on them every time you did something right. You hoped to see a mark there by the end of the night.

"If you keep hurrying me up, I won't be gentle," you warned, shoving the ice against the boob you had neglected before and holding it strongly. Wheein's scream at the sudden shock ended up in a loud cry, her back arching at you circling the cube around her nipple. "Is that what you want, huh?"

"Uh-huh," she was able to shout out in agreement between her delicious moans, head now dropped backwards onto your shoulder. You moved your body to the side so you could whisper directly at her ear.

"What a slut you are."

Wheein lustfully mumbled a few yes yes yes I am when you stressed that word, like she had done many times before. She gasped in surprise when you stopped rolling the ice on her nipple, and gasped even harder when you took that same nipple in your mouth. Sucking the cold out of it. What was left of that cube you used to roll down her body, leaving behind a trail of water and stopping just before her pussy.

"Did you make a mess on the floor, Wheein...?" you asked.

You had inclined your head forward to look at the space between her legs. With all the action, Wheein had her knees up and under her chin, throbbing cunt fully exposed to the hot air. She was dripping on the floor, so much was the arousal.

"Hmmmmm, no. There's a lot of ice melting here," she lied. You smirked while thinking of how you would punish Wheein for that, one hand drowned in the bucket and getting really cold. The round cubes were now slowly turning into water altogether, coming out already humid — which meant that you didn't need to wait before using it on her.

"I would've been way nicer to you, Whee," you said, "but you don't deserve it."

Ring and middle finger squeezed her labia on each side, making the hole wider for the ice. Her reaction to the intimate contact with the cold immediately showed that she wanted you to put it in, her nails definitely leaving your thigh scratched this time. Instead, you simply stimulated her entrance, rolling and rubbing the round ice against it, even letting just a tip in. Wheein moaned sweetly, whispering your name, almost begging you to fuck her.

You took the ice into your mouth before it fully melted, wanting to taste her liquid even if the water was mixed in. Wheein grunted in annoyance from that, but there wasn't time to take her protests further — the same fingers which squeezed her open before now slid with ease inside of her, producing sweet wet sounds with each pump in. Part of you wanted to grab more ice, to roll it on her skin, to do anything, but you couldn't do much when her moans and then screams of pleasure filled your ears. Your hand was soaked with her climax in almost no time.

"Mmmmhm... Can't believe you didn't..."

You laughed when her words kept trailing off — Wheein was absolutely spent. She tiredly dropped into your arms after her orgasm, trying but failing to sound her complaints. Now any warmth was welcome, yours or from the fireplace, her hands pressing yours against her body to hug her tighter.

"What? You really wanna complain when I left you in this state?" you scoffed while gently removing the bandeau she wore as a blindfold.

Wheein sat up to face you, narrowing her eyes and pouting her mouth. She trembled a bit, still lacking the necessary balance, but kept her posture.

"I... I... Fuck." She gulped and shook her head, recollecting herself. "I just wanted you to roll the ice inside of me!"

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