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arlerts-angel · 1 year ago

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when you can't sleep at night ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

NSFW! 18+ !! minors do not interact!!

cw: armin x fem reader, use of names (pretty girl, angel, babygirl) slight coercion?, oral sex (m&f receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex

a/n: GOOOD MORNING IT'S 11:30 AM SO HERE'S SOME SOME SMUT FOR YA 🩵

🔞 NSFW BELOW THE CUT 🔞

you've been laying in bed restlessly for what feels like hours listening to your sweet boyfriend's light snores. he always falls asleep first, and fast, too. you always wonder how in the world he falls asleep so easily. his blonde hair falls across his face as his head sinks into his pillow. he looks so content. you almost decide to leave him alone, but his voice echoes in your mind: "wake me up if you can't sleep, okay?"

"armin..." you whisper, softly shaking him.

"hmph?" he replies groggily, he's definitely still sleeping.

you think to yourself: "maybe i should just let him sleep..."

he starts shifting, slowly sitting up. sleep is very much still on his face, but he looks as dreamy as always.

"can't sleep?" he asks softly, rubbing his eyes.

"yeah... sorry for waking you. i feel bad." you whisper back.

"don't worry about it, i'm up now." he brushes a strand of hair out of your face. you smile softly at him.

"nothing better to wake up to than you, pretty girl."

you blush profusely. everytime he calls you that it makes you feel some type of way. many ways, in truth, but the sound of his sleepy voice just made your heart flutter. you laugh softly and start to feel your skin grow warm. he often leaves you speechless, which he finds adorable.

"you know..." he started.

oh, armin and his knowledge of many, random things. you have absolutely no idea what he's about to say next, until you feel his warm hand gently stroking your thigh.

"some research shows that having sex before bed may help you sleep better."

you scoff and roll your eyes playfully, thinking he's making that up for sure. he chuckles, obviously aware of your disbelief. he now has an objective in mind: to make you fall asleep.

"what?" he leans in closer, whispering in your ear. "don't believe me?" he gently takes your earlobe between his teeth, biting softly. the feeling sends a chill throughout your body. you let out a soft sigh and close your eyes as he plants soft kisses down your neck.

"there's no harm in trying, right?" he asks quietly as his fingertips softly stroke your inner thigh, eliciting a small moan from you. he smirks at the sound. he gently cups your face with his other hand and kisses your lips softly. you feel yourself getting wet as his fingertips travel closer to your core. there's no mistaking that he can get you going easily. he knows it, too. before you know it, he's hovering above you, your faces just inches apart, his fingertips tracing where your panties hug your hips.

he looks you in your eyes as he moves his fingers painfully slowly inside your underwear, rubbing your slit vertically, collecting your slick on his middle finger. he smirks once more, knowing (and loving) exactly how to make you putty in his hands. he removes his hand away from your slit, holding up his slender, wet finger. "look at that, my pretty girl is so wet already..." he pops the finger in his mouth, savoring the taste of you as he looks in your eyes.

"mmmh..." you moan softly, wiggling underneath him. "not yet, pretty..." he groans, palming his cock through his boxers. you watch him, getting increasingly impatient.

"please, 'min..." you whine. your hand makes it's way under his boxers, slowly stroking his shaft. he lets out a low grunt and thrusts. he loves the feeling of your soft hands around his dick. you sit up and slowly slide his boxers down his muscular thighs. the sound of his cock slapping his torso echoes through the otherwise quiet room. you lick your lips and look up at him as you take the tip of his dick between your soft lips.

"fuck, angel..." he groans as he looks at you teasing the his tip. you smirk and swirl your tongue around, never breaking eye contact. he groans again and grabs his dick, slapping it on your tongue. you slowly take his length between your lips, sucking on it like candy. he throws his head back and groans, thrusting his cock ever so slightly in your mouth.

"you look so pretty with my dick in your mouth..." he says softly, smirking down at you. this only encourages you to suck him off a little more, bobbing your head up and down all of his length and softly cupping his balls between your fingers. he inhales sharply at the sensation.

"my god, angel..." he whines, tossing his head back once more in pure pleasure. you hum against his cock, sending a chill throughout his body. this nearly sends him over the edge, enough to make him pull away from your mouth completely. he bends down to kiss you, starting at your lips and leaving a trail down your neck, chest, and torso, stopping just above your panties. he looks up and you and smirks.

"please, armin–" you sigh, desperate for him to touch you in any way. he kisses your vulva gently over your panties before sliding them down your legs. he kisses your inner thighs, slowly making his way back to your slit. you let out soft whimpers as he gets closer to your heat. he softly laps his tongue against your swollen clit. you gently grab his hair and moan.

"oh my fucking god–" you whisper, feeling his tongue glide up and down your pussy. he loves the way you react to his tongue and would stay between your legs for hours if you'd let him. he moans as he takes your clit gently between his teeth, sucking lightly on it.

he's so good at eating you out. he may even enjoy it more than you. he absolutely worships your pussy, mouthing away like he's starving. he pulls away for a moment, only long enough to tell you how good and sweet you taste. his tongue returns to your bud, licking at such a perfect pace you can't hardly stand it. you place a hand gently on the back of his head, pressing his face into your cunt a little harder, gripping his hair. he smirks and insers a slender finger into your dripping wet core, pumping in and out slowly.

"oh fuck, armin–" you moan, back arching and bucking your hips against his finger. it doesn't take long for him to add another finger, his tongue never shifting away from your clit. he fingers you faster and harder, hitting a rougher patch of your walls that sends you over the edge.

you let out a sinful moan. "gonna cum, gonna cum." but you don't. he stops everything and smirks. he rises and kisses your lips, making you taste yourself. "not yet, angel. want you to cum on my dick." he says in a low voice. you groan but you know it won't take too long for both of you to finish.

he slaps the tip of his cock against your clit, eliciting soft moans from you. he pushes it ever so slightly against your clit before guiding it down to your entrance. he slowly pushes into you, no need for lubricant because your cunt is soaked. he groans as he feels you stretch around him. "so fucking tight, angel. you take my dick so well." his thrusts start off slow and sensual. a couple of thrusts later his middle finger finds your clit and rubs little patterns on it. "so good, 'min." is all you can muster. his pace quickens and so does his breathing. he's too focused to say anything; too busy pounding balls deep in your pussy.

you were already so close to your orgasm that it certainly doesn't take much more to push you over the edge. you feel him hitting that sweet spot in your walls thst makes you writhe and contort underneath him. you can't even offer an announcement because you're cumming here and now and there's no stopping it. your pussy tightens around his cock as he slams into you, making a pornographic moan slip from his throat. "fuck yeah babygirl... cum all over my dick. just like that."

he slows his thrusts down so not to cum right away. "where do you want this cum, princess?" he asks through grunts and gritted teeth. he's so polite to ask, but there's only one answer right now. "inside me." you say breathily. a devilish grin spreads across his face and he starts thrusting is cock into you a little harder now that he knows where to cum.

"beg for it, angel. tell me how badly you want me to cum inside your pussy." yes sir! he's so fucking close and you know exactly what to say to get him there. "please 'min, my pussy is soaking and ready for your cum. i need my cunt to be filled with your cum." your begs and pleads earn a curse from under his breath. his eyes roll and his head leans backwards as his dick twitches, his cum spurting deep inside your pussy.

he eventually pulls out to lay beside you, softly stroking your hair. he's beaming at you, so very in love with you. "how you feeling, angel? think you can sleep now?" he asks sweetly. you smile and nod. "yeah, i think so." you cuddle him close, laying your head on his chest. he continues to run his fingers through your hair as he watches your eyes slowly blink shut. he places a soft kiss on your forehead and whispers: "sweet dreams, mon ange."

#📝 — mack wrote that #tw: somnophilia #cw: somno #armin smut #armin arlert smut #aot smut #aot imagines #armin aot #armin arlert #attack on titan #armin x fem reader #armin snk #snk smut #armin x reader #armin attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin smut

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pandora-writes-one-piece · 1 month ago

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Circus Psycho

Circus Psycho 🔞

Word Count: 745

Tags: Fem!Reader; Cunnilingus; Explicit Sexual Content; NSFW; MDNI;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: You're an aerialist and silks are your specialty. Buggy likes to see you perform.

Notes: It was NOT in my bingo card to write for Buggy. Not in a near future, at least. But I was minding my business at breakfast and I heard the song Circus Psycho by Diggy Grave, and suddenly this was all I could think about... so this is very raw. I gave it a once-over and posted because I really need to work now (procrastinating is a thing, people). I just needed to get this out of my system. Thank you for indulging me!

Two long crimson red silks hung from the ceiling. Only the dim footlights from the arena were lit, casting a soft glow on your skin while shadows danced beneath you with practised ease.

He watched eagerly.

Your body seemed to melt into the fabric as you wove it and coiled it around you with lithe movements. You wrapped the silk around your legs and thighs as you climbed higher and higher, then let them coil around your torso.

You were impossibly high and, as you looked down, all you could see were his eyes, piercing your soul, assessing your every move, following the way the silks held your naked form like a lover’s embrace.

And then you let go.

The sharp intake of breath he took swirled upwards, wrapping around you as if it were a silken rope. Your descent was swift and abrupt, and it took only a moment and a breath. Your chest heaved with exertion as you stopped mid-air and arched your back, leaning your head to look at him. With a longing sigh, you opened your arms to him. One leg vertically in the air, secured tightly in the silks’ caress, the other stretched to the side at an almost ninety-degree angle.

You could see his upside-down throat move with each hard swallow, as he took in your form. The silks hugged your breasts sensually, caressing your thighs, suspending you in mid-air in all your bare, naked glory. Just for him. All for him.

“My little freak…” His hands cradled your head as he leaned down and hungrily took your lips in his in an upside-down kiss. His tongue invaded your mouth and sucked on yours, draining pleasure as it coiled and licked. His teeth bit down on your lower lip and he pulled with an unbridled moan. “My sweet, perfect freak.”

Extending his hands, his thumbs grazed your nipples, his fingers stretching over your ribs and sternum. The pressure of his touch and the bite of the silks were already leaving you dizzy and lightheaded.

He pulled back, threading his fingers through your hair and kissing your forehead, then grabbed one of your extended arms and rotated you gently. You knew better than to move a muscle, perfectly arched for him, your legs open and inviting.

A shudder left his lips as he was now facing your throbbing core. His hands climbed up your calves, touched the silks, caressed your thighs. Each stroke was a performance in itself and much gentler than the bite of the silk.

“All mine.”

His tongue found you aching, wet and ready and the contact made you arch back even more, the silks groaning in protest. While the touch of his hands was gentle against your skin, holding your hips in place, his tongue bullied you relentlessly, pulling sensuous moans and mewls from your parted lips.

He pulled back and you whined softly, but then his fingers found you again and curved upwards, hitting that perfect spot without much effort. The tingling in your legs came from more than just being suspended in the air.

“Perfect. Beautiful. Exquisite.” He punctuated each word with a swipe of tongue on your throbbing clit. Waves of pleasure expanded from your abdomen to your legs and through your stomach to your head. “Perform for me, darling.”

And with one last swirl of his tongue, you did. A crescendo of moans as your hands found purchase on the silks, turning your knuckles white from the grip as your hips jerked into his face. His mouth never left you, his tongue drawing out your pleasure as if it were infinite, pulling every ripple until it felt like sweet torture.

Your chest heaved from exertion when he stopped.

The footlights of the arena cast a golden glow on your damp skin as you hung there, breathless, exposed, vulnerable, his.

He took a step back and looked at you appraisingly, his mouth still sheening with your juices coating it. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he slowly circled you, like a predator circles its prey.

The silks were yours, the stage was yours, the performance was yours. Yet, you were all his. Every breath, every shudder, every moan or mewl belonged to him. And as you heard the shuffle of his clothes and felt the possessiveness of his hands against your thighs, you knew you were no longer the performer, but you were about to become the performance.

Tag list: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia @walmartmihawk

#one piece #one piece x reader #x reader #op #reader insert #buggy the clown #buggy one piece #captain buggy #op buggy #reader x buggy #buggy x reader #you x buggy #buggy x you #Spotify

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obgd · 5 months ago

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FOUND #1: A "Simple" Gift

NEXT -> || LAST ->->

I've been up to some sneaky things. I spent a week doing nothing, then the next 15 days doing nothing but something. I put myself through an intensive crash course on making a Vtuber model as a birthday gift for the lovely @madameclaws ♥. Don't get over excited, I'm still working on getting the model 100%. There's a lot of things I had to learn.

The model I'm making is a MadameClaws OC named Found (Both images drawn by MadameClaws). An expression filled, chicken butt angel from ÆTHERVALE. I want all the feathers to be flow-y and spring-y, the model to be low poly, and the eyes to be low res and flat.

(An actual detailed explanation of some of these features I tried will be posted later. There was a lot that happened and I gotta just start with this overview)

Let's get to work under that cut

It took a long fucking time to get a version of the model I was happy with. I restarted from scratch like 5 separate times. I started with sub-dividing the planes by hand, then I discovered I can create curves and skin them. I immediately hated doing that, went back to sub-dividing and moving the vertices by hand.

By the time I had Found V3, the ears were much bigger, and the leg were cylinders. But there was an unforgivably major issue... The geometry on this model was a bigger nightmare than anything Alien Colonial Marines ever had, and that's not the standard I want to live up too.

(Side note: Ignore that fact that all the files are called "Lost" instead of "Found". I miss-named the first file, then by the time I realized, I already had 20 different files and objects with the wrong name)

Probably the biggest shot to the head was making the neck floof. There was moments where I'd rather be pulling teeth. This is the part that went through the most renditions and even led me to restart completely because I though the problem wasn't just the floof shape, but also neck and body shape. In the end, changing the neck shape helped a shit ton.

At some point I started playing with an outline. I started with playing with the shader and used the geometry nodes to made the sharp bits pink. Then I moved on to using a copy of the whole mesh that's slightly bigger and reversing the normals, so the mesh is facing inwards, then I enabled backface culling. The massive downside to this is that it doubles the polygon count, but looks lovely.

To finish off this post, here's what I got so far. The design was redone to have smaller ears, less polygons and more volume to all portions. The entire mesh was redone to be more flexible. The yellow feathers on the ears can move with their own bones connected to the main feathers. All floofy spots can wiggle and bob. They have only 3 fingers, a thumb, an index, and a middle finger. I added a little chicken butt. The arm bones are a little devious, because you're supposed to have a bicep, forearm, and hand bone.... Found only has a bicep and hand bone.... So I added a very tiny bicep inside the chest that has no weight, and made Found's bicep their "forearm"

I'm still working on the face with expressions. I'm currently having a time trying to get Vnyan to swap expressions, and once it can do that, I'll get the pupil to look around with the eye tracking. But everything else works and bends in a way I'm happy with.

#3d model #blend #vtube model #wip #dev journal #devlog #birthday #ÆTHERVALE

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criticallyacclaimedstranger · 2 years ago

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Fic: Misty, chapter v

Read on Ao3

Rating: Explicit (whole thing)

Fandom: Prospect

Pairing: Snowman!Ezra x f!reader (monsterfucker au)

Tags: it’s basically monster fucking but with a snowman which could technically be classified as a monster i guess?, gothic horror kind of, sorrow, dementia, anxiety, dog murder, masturbation, Frankie thirst, pet murder, racism mention, huge age gap, implied possible sexual abuse of minor.

Chapter warnings in addition to the above mentioned: Spookiness, PiV sex with an actual snowman, possible hallucinations.

Summary: Escaping your empty apartment after having been dumped by your fiancé, you rent a cottage at Oakgrove House over Christmas to nurse your wounds. But strange things seem to happen at the estate, where an old woman wanders around in search of old friends long gone, and snowmen appear as if by themselves on the lawn…

Chapter word count: 1,852

A/N: Here we go: snowman sex. Listen to Kate Bush's Misty if you haven't already. You're welcome.

Tagging: @harriedandharassed@paulalikestuff@pazizz@lovesbiggerthanpride (let me know if you want in)

Snow is still falling down in a slow dance from the sky when you step out of the warmth of the cottage. Arms wrapped around you, and boots on your feet, you stare in disbelief at the snowman.

It's impossible. Impossible times infinity. But there he - it - is, with its crooked smile made of leaves and dried grass, staring at you through the swirling crystals in the night. You look around you and spot a broom right next to the porch. Holding it, against what you don't know, you slowly make your way down the path and onto the lawn. The snow reaches your knees and your boots fill with it immediately, but you don't care about the wet chill around your ankles. Coming to a stand right in front of the snowman, both hands holding the broom vertically in front of you, you see no tracks in the high drifts around the round figure.

Chill after uneasy chill run down your spine and you look around you. There is nothing but snow and silence. The broom feels like a silly idea now, but you still hold it firmly because you can't shake the feeling that someone is watching you through the falling snow. You open your mouth to call out a hello, but no sound comes out. Turning back to the snowman, you realize that it's the dead, unseeing depressions filled with leaves that you felt on you.

"Stop it," you press, your teeth starting to chatter. "Just stop it."

You don't know if you're talking to the snowman or to yourself. Abruptly turning around and tracing your steps back through the drift, you make it back to the front door. Using the broom, you brush the snow off your boots returning safely to the warmth of the cottage. You go to the kitchen to clear the table when a clumsy, faint knock, as if made by a broom handle to the door, makes you freeze.

Did you imagine that? The cold, melted snow soaking your socks sends shivers up your entire body as you take a few hesitant steps back towards the front door. You jump when there's another knock, this time more demanding. It's definitely not made by a human knuckle against the wood of the door, no, it's the sound you get when beating wood to wood.

Lips pressed together, you will your legs into moving your body to the entry, your hands to turn the knob. Your skin rises in goosebumps and the tiny hairs at the nape of your neck stand on end when the door swings open to the swarm of vanilla frost that enters.

It's Frankie who stands on the porch, carrying a load of firewood.

"Hi," he smiles at you from behind the logs. You don't even stop to marvel at how strong he must be to be able to carry those heavy logs in his arms: your gaze trails past him to the snowman.

It's on the other side of the road, and it's holding the broom.

"Figured you needed more firewood," you hear Frankie say. "There's a shed behind the cottage but maybe nobody has thought to tell you."

When he gets no reaction from you, he says your name, clearly and with a question mark at the end. You blink, as if waking up from a disturbing dream, and focus on him.

"Yes! Firewood. Great!" You stand to the side to let him in, and his parka brushes you as he enters, going straight to the living-room to relieve himself of his burden. You follow him slowly, trying to focus on his solid, corporal presence to shake yourself out of whatever it is that has gotten a hold of you.

"You okay?" Frankie now asks you, and you immediately nod.

"Just tired. Thanks for the firewood."

"Sure." His warm, brown eyes stay on your face, as if assessing your lie. His weight shifts from one leg to the other before he nods, clearly deciding that you are, in fact, not his problem.

"Well, I best be getting home."

He's by the front door again in a heartbeat, looking back one last time before you leaves. "Merry Christmas."

"And to you," you reply weakly, and he's out. You go to the window and watch him walk down the garden path before turning onto the road and walking past the snowman with its broom. You stand in the window for a long while, waiting for the round body to move, but it never does. And why should it?

You sit up in bed, heart beating, your skin slick with sweat. Your trembling hands fumbling, you finally manage to find the lightswitch, and turn on the bedside lamp. Unable to remember what your dream was about, the dread that permeated it is still haunting you outside of dreamland. It takes you a while to convince your brain that it was a dream and that you are safe, albeit unhappy. When you eventually manage to draw a deep, settling breath, you find the air in the bedroom stuffy. The heat of the fire downstairs has settled up here, underneath the roof beams, and it feels old and used up. You throw the covers to the side and get out of bed, your bare feet taking you across the floor to the window. The latch comes off easily and the hinges creak a little when you open first the inner window, then the outer. Greedily, you draw the cold, fresh air down into your lungs.

It has stopped snowing, and the obsidian sky is lit up by thousands, no, millions of stars. Your mouth falls open when you gaze up at the little lights. Living in a city, you never really see the stars, and it always feels like a punch to the gut when you are treated to the wonders of the universe. The moon is only half full but it hits you that its cold silver glow still illuminates the frozen white vastness of the lawn between cottage and house. The trees loom around the open spaces, casting long, dark shadows over the untouched virginal snows. Oakgrove House has its own shadow, backlit by the moon, the warm yellow Christmas lights fighting the good fight against the cold light of winter.

Your gaze sweeps over the lawn, stopping at the side of the road where the snowman should be, but is not. It's gone, and you can't see it in the cottage's garden either. The fresh air suddenly feels chilly and intrusive. As a shiver settles in your muscles, you cross your arms in front of your chest in a futile attempt to shield yourself from both the cold and the feeling of unease that is creeping upon you.

A creak downstairs makes your breath hitch, and you turn around to stare at the open door. You recognize that sound even though you've only been here for two days: it's the sound the first step of the stairs make when you step on it. It has a certain huffed sigh to it that you noticed from the first time you stepped on it. Your unblinking eyes are trained on the doorway and you forget to breathe when you hear the little squaks and groans that tell you that someone is coming up the stairs, with determination yet without hurry. You're frozen in place from fear but you can also feel a comforting sense of resignation, like you're at peace with whatever comes. Maybe it's the same feeling a drowning person feels when they stop struggling, and just sink? Well, you are sinking now, rooted to the floor and terrified of yet comfortable with whatever is going to show up.

"Ezra," you whisper when you see the round form of the snowman fill the doorway. His snowy white face with its dead leaves smile and dark moss eyes is turned to you, and suddenly you're not afraid anymore.

"Ezra," you repeat, and he tilts his head slightly, like one does when listening to a beloved yet forgotten song from long ago. He doesn't speak but you seem to hear whispers in the corners of the room: Blackbird... Blackbird... precious little Blackbird...

No, you're not afraid when you slowly walk up to him and put your hand on his cold cheek. The dry light hay of his frosted tuft in an otherwise dark brown hair rustles when he bows his head down. His ice cream lips taste like a dead garden when he kisses you. His twig arm embraces you, the other little stick arm lost somewhere along the way, and pulls you into his snowy body. Your sleepwear turns wet when he starts to melt in your hands, melt away as you kiss him back, thaw like the rising heat of your body is the spring sun. You dimly realize what will happen if you stay like this, entwined in this desperate show of loneliness and love ungiven, but if he doesn't care, then neither will you.

Next to each other on the bed, you kiss him again and again, the moss of his mouth reminiscent of plush lips, the scratch of twigs like a moustache tickling your warm skin. Your breath comes out in smoky puffs whenever you tear your lips from his, and you giggle in exhilaration at the display. His branch arm moves, the smaller limbs curling around the swell of your hip like cold fingers. Your breath hitches when the chilly sensation reaches your soft thighs. Cold drops of melted snow run down between your legs, making you shiver - in desire this time. A feral smile distorts his features when he feels your heat and traces his fingertips lightly around your slick opening. Your lips move in a silent plead, his finger slips inside, giving you peace and pleasure. The orgasm is almost immediate and strangely undramatic; a welcome shower of comfort relaxing your limbs when you sigh and let your eyes fall shut. He moves, a deep creaky-creak similar to the one made by snow being trod by boots or wheels, and rolls on top of you. You spread your legs and let him enter, the cold jab into your core chilling your spine all the way up to your brain. He cradles your face as he moves in you, the whispers of Blackbird growing stronger with every thrust.

”I’m your blackbird, Ezra,” you assure him, your fingertips throbbing with heartbeats and cold as they sink into his shoulders, his creamy skin giving way more and more. You don’t want him to dissolve, to leave you like your fiancé left you, he has grown on you, his presence outside the cottage is a comfort, his single arm embrace is not only wanted but desired. His love and worship make you feel whole again, his sex brings you pleasure and you don’t want it to end.

But it does end. When he finishes, there is nothing left but soaking sheets, a womb filled with ice, and you laying on your back, panting until you pass out.

#prospect fanfic #ezra prospect #ezra x reader #ezra au #my fic

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willxtoxsurvive · 1 year ago

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Rattle The Bones Of Our Fathers || Jake & Wesker

Plotted starter for @fiercehearts

To say Jake was having a bad time would be an understatement.

The scorching heat created odd shapes as it beat down on Kijuju's dry ground. It was probably why he'd been put on watch duty outside of his team's safehouse– at sixteen, he was the youngest of the team, and that meant he got the shitty responsibilities while everyone else was inside, definitely also sweating their asses off but at least not sitting on a fucking metal roof, frying their asses off. But it was either the roof or walking in circles around the house, and Jake liked to believe that this was a far smarter spot, as it gave him a vantage point in any direction and all he had to do was crane his neck.

A loud, buzzing sound made Jake's brows furrow and he whipped around, coming face to face with one of those stupid drones.

"You're moving a lot up there," Ivan —second youngest of the team, only a year older than Jake and the fucker Jake was going to make take watch duty next time, because he'd rather run maintenance checks on explosives inside like Ivan than do THIS again— spoke into his comm. "Everything okay?"

"One of Tricell's drones is here," Jake said, noticing how the thing hadn't just flown away, but stuck around and hovered, seemingly recording him. "Should I shoot it?"

Ivan laughed. "Why? I thought you liked having your picture taken."

"Not by assholes with glasses who're probably all the way across the city with a remote control in hand," he said, showing his middle finger to the drone. His strong but still boyish features twisted with a smirk with the satisfaction of knowing he was probably pissing someone off.

It didn't last.

The screeching of tires snapped Jake back to reality. A black van had stopped just beside the building and before he could even register that the logo on the side was the telltale white and red of Umbrella, there were men in heavy gear coming out and into the house. Jake opened his mouth to say something, but gunshots were already ringing out inside, bullets pierced their way out through the metallic sheets that made up the roof, forcing Jake to roll his way over the edge in an attempt to not be the destination of a bullet.

Gravity had him plummeting down the two stories high house faster than he could think. A fall that might have been deadly if he'd fallen straight down to the ground but, lucky him, his first stop was an scaffolding– or perhaps he wasn't so lucky, as the damn thing made a lot of noise when he bounced off it and onto the ground.

The impact knocked the air out of his lungs and his wits out of his brain. The fall and the explosion that followed from inside the house had his ears ringing– EXPLOSION?!

Yeah, there was the smell of burning meat and the crackling of a fire. Jake twisted around, searching for his gun and finding that it had landed on the other side of a wired fence. The semiautomatic rifle sat there, mocking him. The burning in his lungs and pounding in his head only got worse when a boot came down onto his chest, pinning him to the ground.

How had anyone survived the explosion was a question for another time. Jake wouldn't go down without a fight, especially not against some idiot who came at him with just a knife. The fucker thought he was Rambo.

"Rambo" was almost a whole foot taller than Jake, which was saying a lot considering he was 6'1 and still growing, so there wasn't much Jake could do from the ground. The fucker was a man on a mission, moving with the ease and determination of someone who knew exactly what they were there to do and, most importantly, WHO they were there to kill.

And he definitely tried. The knife went through his cheek vertically, the blade scraping against teeth, cutting his tongue, flooding his mouth with the taste of metal and blood– not just his, someone else's as well. The bastard was stunned, probably shocked because he'd failed to land the yugular injury he'd probably been aiming for, and Jake but around the knife, threw his head back, and yanked it out of the man's grip. He didn't even think about what he was doing until that very same knife was in his hand and he was watching the blade disappear into the other's neck once, twice, the third time it got stuck and Jake just settled for shoving the fucker off.

Then, he saw it, a gun still in its holster. Why did he come at Jake with a knife when he had a gun right there?!

That was another question for later, Jake got up and grabbed the gun, making his way around the burning house just as the getaway driver hopped out of the van. The first bullet hit him on the knee, sent him crashing to the ground with a bloodcurdling scream that Jake was right there to silence in a second, punching the guy in the face.

"Who told you where we were?" Jake spoke through a mouth full of blood, having to spit to the side before pressing the gun to the guy's temple. "WHO-"

The guy, not actually Umbrella, merely a hire for the job —just like the rest of them, if Jake had to guess by how messy they'd been— didn't take much more to talk. "The man, the old man– Matija!"

Matija. Their leader. Jake's trainer. The closest thing he'd ever had to a father, had sold them out? Jake stood up, head shaking slowly. But how else would this man know Matija's name? He wasn't even here with them, he'd stayed back in Edonia to 'hold the fort'– right, it'd seemed out of character back when he'd told him and it made sense now. That bastard-

Jake pulled the trigger until the guy stopped moving and then some more, kept pulling it a minute after all that came out was just the clicking sound that indicated an empty gun. The precariously built house collapsing on itself, cementing the fact that he was the only one left.

Only then did he notice that the buzzing of the drone hadn't gone away. Slowly, he turned to face it. "What the fuck are you looking at?!"

#where's everyone going? the queue?#||in character: jake muller||#& albert wesker #||verse: no man's son; jake muller||#fiercehearts #||thread: rattle the bones of our fathers||

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lovlorne · 1 year ago

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your funeral.

you can play around with these bottoms that have even less spine than old-world jellyfish all you want. you can sit there and get guys and gals off by stepping on their throats and pocketing their money afterwards. you can try and get in bed with a girl that'll 'fight back' and immediately give up because they confused 'switch' for 'bottom' and decided to just let you top. but we both know that isn't what you want. what you want is to be taken to bed by a girl that breaks you before it even begins. what you want is to be start with theatrics, maybe push them onto the covers. pin them down. just to get thrown off the bed completely and held against the floor. you want to squawk out a complaint only to shut yourself up when they sink their teeth into your collar and dig their fingers into your ass with enough force to leave bruises in the back and blood in the front. you want to make an effort to push them off, only to get slammed back into place, and held there by one hand around your throat while the other slips around and digs into you knuckle deep. you want to try to squeal only to get cut off by them tightening their grip and curling their fingers inside you, leaving you seeing stars from how short of breath you suddenly are. when your weak will gives out, you want them to keep going. you want them to let up just enough so you can breathe, but only so they can hear you scream when they rip your earring out with their teeth and tongue-fuck the wound they just made. you want them to rock off you, pick you up, and hold you against the wall with enough force you leave an indentation in it, only to get hiked up further so they have access to your hips. you want the only thing keeping you from doubling over being one hand on your shoulder, one on your thigh. you want to feel your heart stop when those shark teeth move downwards. you want to scream your voice so raw the next two days are nothing but letting your throat recover all from how hard and fast the first climax is. and you want to be held there, and made to finish again and again, until you black out from exhaustion. and when you wake up, you want them to cup your face gently, pull you in close, and let you taste your own blood on their lips while they click the collar on your throat. the only thing i don't know you want is if you would rather the little charm say 'pet' or 'good girl.' ~b.

———— 🖤┊ HEIGHT BE DAMNED, a lofty button nose held skyward through indignance supplemented her confidence where vertical disparity could not. deciphering whether admiration or arrogance bound her tongue would be a tall order, but one should simply count their blessings — the alternative is being interrupted come any perceived discrepancies. that being said, nothing stopped her from mentally rebuking any fallacies this cretin may have concocted.

... or she would have, had the first wave bore a flaw. a cleared throat conceded as arms cross along tautly against her bosom. a simple shot — nothing to fret over. 'twas an obvious attack, a blow low enough to put even her dick kicks to shame. ( please. is it not normal to want a challenge? ) a rabbit - wrinkle of that nose, and its subsequent flare, adds little else.

the second wave, she admits, holds no quarter. nails dig into biceps as teeth grind against one another come her begrudgingly locked jaw. already, her gaze escapes its once cocksure position, taking solace in the right corners of shaken eyes after bright white sclera nigh consumes those irises.

there is little to say; to speak is to confirm interest, even if her words refused acknowledging accuracy: the swallow of saliva clogged up her throat, making for a potential waver even if she was to deny the accusations, and to a shark such as herself, there was no way it wouldn't be perceived as weakness. ( haaa... the blood is a little much... i-isn't it...? it's not like anyone's here to do that to me, anyway... )

though a dragon's exhale oft accompanies flames, hers is muted by the hand quickly clasped across her lower visage. it had been long since she ever squealed, thank you very much, but to insinuate she had not missed the attraction of possessive ownership would be a lie. ( she gave considerable contemplation to borrowing octavio's therapist, but following through would mean admitting there was an issue to resolve )

though running low on things to spurn, the meek, pitiful bounce of her jaw implies she had but one qualm to verbally retort, but her clamped digits keep her quiet, akin to having fingers pried betwixt gasping lips. ( my earrings are expensive, don't damage those goods! ) in her weakness, her leg bounces, a soothing tic to keep her mind from floating astray. potential destruction of property aside, there's something… riveting about being flush against a barrier, unable to move and left to one's desires— ( a-all right, i think that is more than enough. quit it! )

this is all quite explicit! ( and wrong, if anyone were to insist on prying such crude fact, er, fiction from her lips ) thrice does throat clear, a desperate attempt to remove rock from gullet. quite tough is this medicine to swallow, once bouncing ankles shifting to squeezed knees and thighs pressed taut as she corrects her posture as best she can. ( shark teeth… someone else has those…? wait, no, that's not something to focus on! )

no amount of clearing can free her from the clog keeping her silent. what was once out of sheer confidence had now become discomfort. the tremor in her voice, come gasp feigned as yawn, gives more than she'd like away. ( i… i would never make such a fuss! no one can get me to yield. and… and m-my voice… i've t-trained it to stay within a safe decibel, s-so… )

she'll cradle her own face, thank you — a necessity, considering the malfunction of her "freckles" and pupils had resulted in a short - circuit in both mind and body. with both palms shielding her from further onslaught, digits parted only when the silence marked the end of war, she swallows once, then coughs, hacking out her very heart. her glance still remains to the side, but at last, at last, the final wave, and the singer's relieved blockage, allows for speech. ❝ c-can i request 'brat' instead? ❞

#✧.° ⦙ ❪ & asks. ❫#long post #the romantic way i threw out my other post to rewrite this #lately my style is picking a god and praying i just kinda be doing w.e #based having enough icons to keep the same style during the entire post #how tf i tag naughty shit im old and outdated idk ill put some placeholder #✧.° ⦙ ❪ & synday. ❫#i should just name it synday lmao edit: i did

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a-drop-of-nightshade · 2 years ago

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Whilst others seemed disturbed by the symbols, L merely stared through them, he didn’t see them or if he did he wasn’t bothered by them. He’d send many things, too much at times, but then again how could he have not? Having been forced to work as Carson’s personal weapon… He wasn’t bothered by the reinforced glass either, because at the end of the day he’d just break it again. He had destroyed a mining planet, he had ground the sprawl to a fine dust. Some glass meant nothing to him, so he just peered through watching, hoping and waiting.

But then it was down to him, like it always had been. He didn’t know where that thought came from, but he had seen the surveillance forage of what he had done to the nurse, what he had said, he had seen that they had used Izzy to make him listen and obey and he would do anything and everything to keep her safe. Because he was the only one who could. So he left his room, the nurses too scared to even cross his path, in recent weeks one nurse had tried to grab him, only to be instantly liquified and splattered across the floor and wall.

The marker energy could lash at him all he liked, but there was nothing to grasp onto or rip, nothing but the broken and shattered shards of a mind and being, something so broken that it could not twist it anymore than he already was. L’s power surged and the glass of the room cracked, the lights flickered wildly as the floor, walls and ceiling shuddered, the bed shaking as he just walked forwards defying its attempts to rip him apart and instead showing it that he was something far more twisted and deadly than it could ever amount to be.

Yet to Izzy herself his power reached in and cradled her, it stopped her wounds bleeding and as he picked her up, although firm and I breaking, he was so gentle not to hurt her. As she fought him, he didn’t let her escape, he just held her close and carried her before sitting and settling her into place. His power wrapped around the two, creating a special and private space, a protected space, it manifested like a dome of purple stars as he just sang to her.

When she froze used some of the sheets to just carefully wipe her mouth of blood, continuing to sing he adjusted her legs, he let her wrap around him, their chests pressed together, he wrapped his magic around her drawing her own power out, calling her, pulling her to him. He felt her reach for his RIG and he didn’t fight her, allowing her to seep into his mind he was careful to guide her through it’s fractured state not allowing himself to hurt her, by accident or not.

He sat there as he slowly finished the song again, he just let her talk, he hoped wipe her face with a tenderness only she could ever hope to draw from him. As she began to cry he just gently ran his fingers through her hair, even held in her hallucination his body moved for he could see both reality and her dream, her wish to hide and be safe and not have to deal with reality. She was so small, so delicate and she looked as if she didn’t bruise and shatter under his fingers should he so much as touched her a little too hard.

Then she spoke and he knew just how lost she was… He gently grasped her hands and lowered them from the helmet she stroked, “Sunshine… it’s time to wake up now.” Was all he could say, he hesitated for a moment then slowly he let go of her hands and pressed a button on the back of the helmet, there was a click and a slight hiss before the helmet melted away from his head slowly receding into the rest of the suit to reveal a face that had made some of the nurses sick, leaving only the strong willed left to work upon him.

His face was a mess, there was no other way to put it. Half his nose was missing vertically, leaving a hole and a strange jutting shape where the other half was still formed. His cheek was torn open, baring teeth and gums to the open air, he had surgical scars all over his head and around his eyes, deep gouging lines carved into his face from some of Carson’s beatings and sessions of taking his anger out on L.

His veins burnt up and melted so bad they formed scars on his jaw and neck, creeping up to his cheeks. He had small, pathetic tufts of pure white hair that looked as if they were struggling to grow, as the helmet had pulled away some of the hair fell out, showing how weak and brittle it was. Burns and a few more scars could be seen poking out the neck of his suit as he looked down at her with blank and almost empty eyes, as if every aspect of him as a person had been carved out. “It’s time to face reality Izzy.” He told her.

The child had been dragged too and from the experimental wing daily, it had quieted down for a while at first after the last visit with the official looking men, but then after the day L came back to their shared room covered in blood that wasn’t his own, he had never been the same.

He no longer had his episodes, he barely even slept and would just sit there staring blankly at the darkness, there was no reaction to pain or fear anymore, even the staff became disturbed of him. Yet despite all that he would smile and laugh around Izzy, he would act like there was not a single thing wrong in the world. He played with her and at times made her float in the air, playing with her using his powers which had grown exponentially. He didn’t bleed or have fits and he didn’t even fight when the people came to take him away, he just smiled at Izzy and calmed her down and let himself be lead away to deal with the hell he was thrown into.

However there was one thing that was bothering him, and it was that Izzy was still being treated cruelly and inhumanly, he saw the bruises she got and had even become all too used to administering her nanites for her, but then one afternoon he came back and he was somewhat distant, the drugs in his system edged him towards mania and come night he looked over Izzy sleeping and got out his bed.

Leaving the room and walking out into the hall, he headed towards nurses office until he found the very nurse who had been the one who sent him to the experimental wing in the first place. He went up to her then kicked her in the back of the leg, “Stupid dumb bitch!” He yelled as if having a tantrum before running off, goading her into chasing him. He lead her into one of the empty rooms, then stopped, hearing her come in the door suddenly slid shut and locked itself.

The child turned and his eyes were dead, his stare was hollow and empty, there was no emotion in him as his eyes glowed purple, as if there were stars trapped within them. All of a sudden the nurse would be grasped by an unseen force, lifted from the floor as if she were nothing, the child just stared up at her listening to her yell and scream, curse and swear he didn’t blink as a sudden crunch echoed out and she screamed in pain.

Slowly the crunching and cracking filled the air with her shrill and agonised screams as the child broke the bones in her arm slowly, one by one, twisting and crushing, mutilating her arm he just stared watching the blood spill. He didn’t stop, even when we sobbed and screamed and begged, he just began on the other arm, her screaming filled his ears and rang but he didn’t feel a single thing as he took his time to crush and break her, piece by piece, bone by bone, limb by limb.

She broke and he thought her pathetic for it, but he didn’t care, her mangled bleeding body was kept suspended in the air, he could hear security pounding and trying to break down the door, but to no avail as he was holding it shut and keeping them out. “I told you,” he said in the calmest voice, one not fit for a child, “You’ll burn in hell.” His eyes never left the nurse, even as he made her torso rip open, her rips splayed out and her guts pulled out her final screams died into wet choking gargling as with one final bang the door broke down and the body dropped to the floor with a sickening squelch, the nurse’s body such a mutilated mess that some of the guards doubled over and vomited at the sight.

L just stared blankly at the mangled pile of bones, flesh, innards and blood before he looked up as he heard some of the other nurses scream in horror. He didn’t understand why they were screaming, he didn’t understand why they looked so scared. She had deserved it. She had hurt Izzy so much.

@izzyfromdeadspace

#⛓ {{ my art }} ⛓#v ;; the weapon star ( human experiment )#💀 {{ full of bones // ic }} 💀

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velvetcloxds · 2 years ago

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LUDICROUS | C.C.

pairing: carlisle cullen x gn!reader

word count: 1k

warnings: ittie bittie bit of blood

summary: cooking with the cullens is a remarkably risky task, especially when you're too focused on your boyfriend to pay attention to what you're doing

You had no idea what you were doing, long gone into a world of your own as Alice continued to melodically dish about instructions to cook the perfect lasagne in honour of Bella coming to dinner- though, with your cooking expertise lacking the perfection the Cullen sister demanded, she’d very quickly assigned you the task of preparing the salad which was the real beginning of your downfall. You’d been halfway through washing the tomatoes when you heard Carlisle and Edward coming down from his office, their voices filling the otherwise silent kitchen.

You’d already seen him today, of course, a quick greeting and a somewhat whispered speech of affection before you’d been whisked away to work and you’d attempted with all your might to remain focussed, to not let your thoughts slip away but that was all but impossible with him being sat so perfectly in your view. It was hardly an unfamiliar notion, you being mesmerised by him, being lost in him- in fact, Edward was the unlucky soul to experience most of your musings first hand, but it felt worse with him in the room, perfectly at your disposal yet completely out of reach.

Your lip was caught between your teeth, eyes almost dazed as you made vertical cuts into the cucumber, moving your fingers with the knife as you heard Carlisle laugh lowly at something Edward said, the kind of laugh he reserved purely to humour people, to make them feel noticed, the type of laugh that set a tumble free in your heart. Edward picked up on that first, picked up on the loving thoughts that coupled with it, another familiar notion- what happened next, however, was a first.

“Y/n,” Alice sounded alarmed, dropping the spoon from her hand as you hissed softly, barely registering the pain that spread through your nerves as you watched blood creeping from the cut on your hand, panic only settling when you remembered where you were. “What happened?” she demanded, moving away from you to make room for Carlisle to pass, his own features showing a mixture of concern and confusion.

“I’m not sure,” you sighed, eyes instantly meeting Carlisle’s as he wrapped a rag around your fingers to hide the almost addicting scent that scurried about the room, somewhat relieved that the others were out hunting. “I wasn’t paying attention,” you admitted and the little scoff that Edward offered in reply painted your cheeks with warmth, a reaction that didn’t for a second go unnoticed by your boyfriend.

“Let’s get you upstairs,” Carlisle suggested, deciding to give you some time to breathe before satisfying his curiosity. “Everyone out of the kitchen,” he commanded, though the pair of vampires were already preparing to do exactly that, knowing it would not be wise to stay there until Carlisle cleansed everything from your blood.

While Carlisle guided you upstairs you considered your fate, not entirely sure how you’d even begin to explain that daydreaming about him was the very reason you’d managed to hurt yourself- this man, the very vision of sophistication and stature- the same man to reduce you to a blushing, foolish mess simply by appearing in you mind. It was all very much unfair, torturously so, that you’d find yourself in love with someone who robbed you of all composure and control.

“I know you’re not all that fond of this part,” Carlisle noted and when you finally convinced yourself to pay attention to your surroundings you noticed the disinfectant in his hands. “But I promise, if you just keep your eyes on me, it’ll be over before you know it,” he suggested and you couldn’t help but smile up at him, curious eyes doing exactly what he told you to as he leaned in closer, prompting you to take a desperate quick breath. It was, in fact, over before you knew it, you'd been focussing on his every move until you found yourself melting into the way his fingers brushed over the now closed wound all the way to your elbow, gently tugging you closer.

“Carlisle,” you breathed, and he hummed, immediately interested in what you wanted to say to him, hoping it would give some insight into your uncharacteristic silence. “You are extremely distracting,” you explained simply, allowing your hands to spread out over his chest, fingers moulding the cold fabric between them. He raised a questioning brow, begging you to continue but you couldn’t bare saying more, groaning lightly at his soft smirk.

“Distracting?” he pushed, tilting his head when you tried to move out of sight, free hand now gripping your waist, keeping you in place while also gifting him with the perfect little scene. “Oh, love, don’t tell me…” he was amused, even more so when another groan left your lips, head falling forward against his bicep.

“Please don’t laugh at me, Carlisle, you don’t understand how difficult it is,” you twisted to look up at him, moving your hands to his lower arm as he half-smiled, eyes ablaze with adoration you were too distracted to notice, but he was ever enjoying his own torturous view.

“Laugh at you? Why ever would I laugh at you?”

“Because it sounds ridiculous, absolutely ludicrous that I should allow myself to be so consistently enthralled by you that I can’t seem to think of anything else or do anything else for that matter without it turning into a mess,” you’d not noticed you were pouting until he brought his thumb to your lip, gently smoothing it into placed as you felt a familiar sense of silly intoxication sneak into your mind.

“You think yourself the only one facing such a treacherous trepidation? Surely you don’t think I’m immune to the delusions of love?” he smiled at that, shrugging as if to silence your objections before his hand cupped your cheek. “You flatter me, love, but I promise you, that I’m as much of a ludicrous fool for you as you are for me.”

“So you say, but only one of us has the scars to prove it,” you retorted, melting into his hold as the very laugh that led to this whole ordeal sang around you, and you groaned, silencing him with a delicate kiss. “Careful,” you warned against his lips, kissing his cupid’s bow as he smiled. “That’s a dangerous little sound.”

“I’ve never been one to shy away from danger, Y/n, you know that.”

tagging: @mirclealignr @cupids-crystals @scarlet-prey

moodboard credit: @sarahisslytherin

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i-cant-sing · 3 years ago

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Yandere RE8: TRP Part 4

Part 1 is here.

Part 2 is here.

Part 3 is here.

Part 5 is here.

Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

"Uhh... hello?"

You looked at the woman standing in the stairs. She was wearing a dark veil that matched the rest of her outfit- oh shit, that's a funeral outfit.

I really did pick a bad time to come here, didn't I? She's in mourning, she sees an intruder, and her day went from bad to worst. Yep, she's gonna kill me.

You took one look at the woman and then at all the possible exits: the doors- no, they'd be too heavy to move and what if they're locked? The window- but I'd have to jump out and just because it looks cool in movies to jump through glass, doesn't mean it'll work, Y/n.

So, the only option was to eliminate the threat. Or maybe... defuse it.

"This is your doll, right?" You asked, pointing at the doll, judging by the lace designs on both of their dresses. The woman didn't reply. "It looks like its been... used a lot. To be honest, she's very different than most dolls I've seen, definitely a lot more spookier." You nervously giggled, hoping she didn't mind. "But... she looks like she's been loved. A lot. Despite being broken from a lot of places, someone still took their time to fix her." You smiled sadly, remembering your own doll that Mia had ripped. "Wish I had someone like that. To sew up the wounds and fix them."You mumbled, not really sure if you were talking about your doll or yourself.

"Your doll, she's- she's very pretty. My sister would've liked her." You began. "Which is why I'm here. My family, we were in an accident- I know it was wrong of me to come here without permission, but I need to find my sister, Rose and my father, Ethan." You took a step closer. "They both of have blonde hair. Rose, my sister, she's just 6 months old. She was dressed in a baby pink onesie, bundled up in a blanket. My father, Ethan, he's about this tall and has big blue eyes. I think he was wearing a jacket, with blue denim jeans. H-have you seen them?" You asked, eyes full of hope and voice laced with eagerness.

Please, please let her have seen them. God, please.

Unsurprisingly, the woman didn't reply, but she did turn her head towards the left window. You didn't know whether she was telling you to get out of her house or signalling that they are out there, but you knew you had to leave.

Nodding, you slowly walked towards the window, your heart beating faster as you prayed that this wasn't some sort of trap, hoping she wouldn't attack you from behind because that would be like... really shitty.

But you left the house unharmed, and without looking back at the window because you didn't want to jinx it, you walked towards the forrest once again, thankful that the sun had finally came out.

Where are you guys?

You had been walking for a couple of hours now, the sun had been a bit warmer today, which was good since you hated the snow that surrounded you now. You looked at the map, tracing the path to your new destination. The Salvatore reservoir. It seemed like it would take you a day's journey to get there, and you sure as hell weren't seeing any lake in sight.

God, when will this nightmare end?

You decided to sit on a stone and take some much needed rest. Your feet ached from all the walking, and your calves were cramping. You rolled your head, popping it from the side, before taking off the rifle that had been weighing down, stretching out your arms. Digging through the little back pack you bought from Duke, you pulled out a thermos of coffee and twinkie. You don't know how or where he got it, but Duke had filled your bag with a couple of snacks; saying its for his loyal customer.

So, here you sat, in the middle of the snowy woods, eating a twinkie and drinking a lukewarm coffee. Both didn't taste good, but they're gonna keep you alive so, no complaining.

After drinking the coffee, you rested your head against a tree, recalling last nights events as you waited for the caffeine to kick in.

You tried to make sense of what happened when you got... locked in the basement. You thought you had forgotten about her, Angel. Guess not.

Wait- didn't that lady lock me in the basement? Maybe, she didn't look very hostile, her creepy doll looked scarier than she did.

You laughed at the irony. You always made fun of the horror movies where the family would become so attached to the most horrifying doll, and you'd scream at their stupidity, And yet here you were, falling for the cliche as you found comfort in that creepy doll.

Man, I'm really losing it here.

You sighed, closing your eyes as you tried to come up with the next plan. But the warm coffee had lulled you right to sleep, which was dangerous but you were too tired to care.

Just for a couple of minutes...

You woke up to the sound of growling and heavy steps. And as soon as you opened your eyes, you knew you had definitely slept for far longer than a few minutes. But that was not of concern at the moment. No, it was the source of the growling that had woken you up.

Just about 40 feet away from you were lycans. Plural. Not one, not two, but 5 lycans, and one of them was a really big one.

You held your breath as you watched them wander around; they hadn't spotted you yet, and if you stayed quiet, you hoped they would just go away.

Stilling yourself as much as you could, you watched them with wide eyes. One of them started to walk in your direction, it wasn't looking at you, which meant that it hadn't seen you, but he would if he kept on walking this way.

God, I know we haven't been on good terms, but like c'mon, you gotta give me a break. Please, I love you? Come on, you know this is not how I want to go.

You sent a silent prayer, and perhaps it worked, since the lycan suddenly turned the other way, joining its pack as they started walking deeper into the woods.

Slowly, you began to gather up your things, silently shoving them in your bag, one eye on the lycans and the other one making sure that you don't accidentally drop something that'd cause noise.

Fortunately, you didn't. You swung the bag over your shoulder, and took a step forward, careful not to step on any twigs.

Maybe God did love me. All that time in church-

THWACK!

You jumped back as a huge sheet of snow fell from the trees in front of you. You whipped your head towards the monsters and they all had stopped dead in their tracks. Slowly, one of them turned and if they hadn't heard the snow fall, they'd definitely heard the way your heart was about to burst out of your chest. Then, it growled.

Motherfucker.

You pulled out your gun just as the two of them began running your way. With a quick jump to the side, you dodged them and shot them two times each. Hearing your gun fire, the other two began running your way too, while the larger one stayed behind as it watched. This time, as you shot one of them, the other managed to kick you in the chest hard, throwing you against the rock. Luckily, you didn't hit your head, as you rolled and shot it dead.

Spitting out the blood, you looked back at the last lycan who had already started running your way. You began loading up your gun with trembling hands, but just as you aimed, the lycan took a giant leap and knocked the gun out of your hand.

Fuck.

The giant grabbed you by your neck, lifting you up high before throwing you across the ground. You wheezed, scrambling up to your feet as you began running away from it, its heavy steps following you. It roared angrily behind you, and that only made you ignore the burning pain in your chest as you ran faster.

But of course, God had decided to make you live a cliche horror movie, because you tripped over a fucking branch, making you fall on your stomach. You flipped over instantly, and saw your nightmare come true as the lycan jumped on you.

On pure reflex, you punched it square in the face, which you doubted hurt it more than it hurt you, if anything, the monster was momentarily perplexed, but that was enough for you to slip from under it.

But you were only able to take a few steps away when it suddenly grabbed you by your neck and lifted you up again, snarling as it began opening its mouth, revealing its razor-sharp teeth at you.

God, if you're hearing this, I'm converting to atheism because I did not need this today.

Looking at the horrifying lycan, you prayed one last time before you were eaten by it. Surprisingly, your life did not flash before your eyes, which you were kinda grateful for because you did not need to relive that before your death.

But that moment didn't came. No, what came were familiar moans of pain, and then the sound of a drill, followed by blood splattering on your face as the lycan was sliced vertically from the head to the toe by the aforementioned drill.

The lycan fell to the ground, revealing the pair of soldats that killed them and behind them a smirking Heisenberg, who rested against a tree, tipping his hat at you.

You were far too shocked to say anything, and after a few seconds, the man walked over to you, blocking the view of his monstrous creations just mutilating the lycans.

"So... that was a bit traumatising." He started, chuckling at your stunned face. "You okay, kid?"

What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck-

"Yeah." You took his hand, and he helped you up. You groaned at the pain, touching the tender side around the chest where the lycan had hit you. Yeah, you probably broke a rib.

Heisenberg helped you sit down on a tree stump. "Hmm, that bastard kicked you hard didn't it." Wait- "But that was a phenomenal punch you threw at it. Nearly made me burst out laughing."

"You were watching? Why the fuck didn't you come in before!"

He shrugged. "I just wanted to see if you could really handle yourself- which you were pretty good at, but then you lost your gun and it was kinda an unfair match from there on." He pulled out some pills from his coat. "i was just passing by when I saw those lycans moving away. Thats when I pushed the tree which made snow sheet fall and you know the rest from there on."

Your eyes went wide. "You did that on purpose? What the shit, Heisenberg-?! Fuck." You doubled over in pain, clutching your ribs, heaving.

"Shh, stay still, kid. Here, take these. They'll help with the pain." You eyed the bottle before popping two in your mouth. Hey, if he wanted me dead, he wouldn't have saved me from the lycan. "I just wanted to see if you were worth the trouble, and as it turns out, you are."

"You didn't have to almost kill me to see that. And now I've lost my gun. And I don't have any money to buy a new one. I doubt Duke gives freebies." You huffed out.

Heisenberg rolled his eyes. "God, you sure do whine a lot. Here-" He dropped a tiny pouch in your lap. "There's some coins in there. That should be enough to buy you a new gun. And for fucks sake, get a gun with more rounds! You don't have time to be loading a gun mid battle." He huffed. "So, where are you going now?"

You rolled your head from side to side. "Well, I went to the Beneviento house. Didn't find Ethan or Rose there. Now, I'm going to the lake."

"The lake? Huh, well if you survived Donna, then Moreau should be a piece of cake. You got the map? Let me show you the short cut, it's not far from here." You gave him the map and he showed you the directions.

"Where are you going then?"

"Mother Miranda called. Don't worry, I'll keep our meeting a secret." He then nodded at you. "Alright, I'm off now."

"Wait!" Your voice stopped him. "I don't know when I'll see Duke again. And I don't have gun, so what if another pack of lycans come?"

Heisenberg slumped his shoulders as he let out an annoyed sigh. "Fine. I gotta do everything by myself." He dog whistled and one of the soldats stopped maiming the lycan and ran to Heisenberg. "From now on, you're gonna listen to her."The soldat looked at you and nodded. "If she tells you to kill, you kill. If she tells you to die, you die. Follow her around and keep her safe." The soldat nodded. Then Heisenberg turned to you. "He's already dead, so don't worry about throwing him in danger. Oh and also, just take him into the sun every once in a while so that his engine can recharge. You'll know when he needs the sun."

You were baffled. "Wait, Heisenberg- how the- what the hell am I supposed to do with him?"

"Figure it out, kid. Think of him as a guard dog."

You looked at the soldat then at Heisenberg's retreating form, then back at the soldat.

"So..." The soldat stared at you. "You got a name?"

"Handsome." You nodded to yourself as you trudged, using the soldat's arm to support yourself. "That's what I'm gonna call you. Handsome. What do you think?"

The soldat was wearing a metal contraption over its eyes, so you couldn't really tell what it was feeling.

"Well, you don't seem to have any complaints, so from now on, you'll respond to the name "Handsome". Do you understand?"

The soldat nodded.

You laughed. God, the pain meds were either making me stupid or everything else funnier.

You looked at the map again. Just a couple of more minutes and then a right turn. And then you should see the lake- god, this map was confusing as hell.

"So..." you wondered what you should ask the cyborg. Oh right. "You seen Ethan? Blonde man, crazy big eyes. Or a baby, Rose?" The man shook his head no.

Sigh. What else could I ask him? What about how did he die? No, what if that's triggering? I can't handle a Terminator right now. And I don't think I should ask him about his past or anything that'll cause him to have a existential crisis. Ah! I've got it!

"Hey, how do you see?"

The soldat looks down at you for a few seconds then points at his metal contraption.

Wait- is that sarcasm?

You scoff. "Of course, you see with your eyes! I meant, with the whole metal thingy covering them, how do you- oh, there's this vision specs in them."

You smiled. "Hey, you're kinda like Cyclops, yknow-" you were cut off as Handsome suddenly pushed you to the ground, turning on his drill.

"Wait, shit- you don't have to be Cyclops! We can talk this out-" but Handsome was focusing on something else, and that's when you saw it. Two lycans.

Handsome ran and easily maimed them to pieces, I mean, you had to look away from the horrific scene midway.

The soldat returned five minutes later, covered in blood. He extended his hand and you reluctantly took it, letting him support you as you began walking again, your heart still beating like crazy.

But you calmed down when you finally reached the lake, the setting sun gave serene feel to the entire reservoir. You inhaled deeply before looking at Handsome. "Lets go down there." You pointed at the lake.

You were both sitting at the wooden broadwalk, your legs hanging off the ledge. You looked at the water, it wasn't crystal clear, but you could see some fishes swimming around, so at least it wasn't dangerous to life. You looked at Handsome, then at his drill and you realised he was still covered in blood. "Lets get you cleaned up, hm?" You said, pulling out a rag from your bag and dipping it in the cold water below. You began with cleaning up his drill, then dipping the rag back in cold water and cleaning his chest and his other arm.

"Good job back there, Handsome."You smiled as Handsome nodded. "Heisenberg was right, you are kinda like a dog. Hmm, I wonder if..." You tested your theory as you petted him on the head. "Good job, Handsome!" But the soldat only tilted its head in confusion.

"Hmm, perhaps not." You cupped the cold water in your hands and washed your own face, You looked at your reflection in the water. "You wanna go for a swim? I don't mind." Handsome shook his head. "Yeah, I'm not a fan of swimming either."

Handsome stared at you. You scoffed. "Oh so you pretend you don't understand what I say, but you want to hear the story? Fine, but I'm only telling you because it might be important later."

You both stared at the water as you began your story. "Well, when I was 15, I had snuck out of the house to go to a party. It was at this rich girl's house and I knew she didn't like me, but I was surprised when she had invited me to her place. Yes, a red flag I should've seen from miles ago, but I was young and dumb and desperate to climb the highschool social hierarchy." You chuckled. "Anyways, long story short, one of the guys there pushed me into the pool because I don't know if they thought it was funny to see me drown? By some luck, I managed to grab onto the pool ledge and pull myself up. I immediately left the party, embarrassed and cold and on the verge of breaking down. Then on the way back home, there was this car following me and then some weirdo catcalled me and tried to get me in his car. Now, scared for my life because I watched a lot of Criminal Minds, I ran all the way home, praying that he leaves me alone. I think he stopped when he saw a Range Rover following him, but I don't know. I just rushed back home." You sighed. "You know what happened next? I bursted through the front door, slamming it shut and I turn around to see my dad in the living room, looking surprised to see me. He stood up and looked me up and down and then said, "Y/n? You're drenched completely. And you're messing up the floor. You know what? Mia's in the bathroom right now, why don't you go upstairs and I'll clean up here. You know how she gets when there's water on the wood." And I was just so shocked, that I didn't say anything and went back upstairs. Once I was in the shower, that's when I broke down crying. I almost drowned, almost got kidnapped and my father was worried about me messing up the wooden floor? Hell, he didn't even ask me why I was coming home at midnight." Your tears fell into the lake, making small ripples. You chuckled, "God, I always wondered how tired he must've been from work that day to ignore all these visible signs of distress. I always hated his job, you know? They made him work way too much." You looked at Handsome who was looking at the lake. "Anywho, now you know I can't swim so, save me if I fall into this lake, okay?" He nodded.

You guys sat in comfortable silence for a few more minutes before a question popped up in your mind. "Handsome?" He turned his head towards you, only to see a mischievous smile on your face. "Are you seeing someone?" The man turned his back to the lake, making you laugh. "Ahh, so you like someone. Tell me, is it someone from the village?" The man further turned his head away from you in embarrassment. "Oh come on, tell me! Is it a girl?" He nodded reluctantly, making you punch his arm. "You dog! Does she know?" Handsome shook his head, making you smile. "Tell you what? As a payback for saving me back there, I'll help you get her. I'll be your wingman, Handsome, hm?" He nodded a bit enthusiastically.

"We all deserve good things, Handsome. No matter how we look, or what we are, these things don't really define one's self worth. Its our intentions, you know?" Handsome didn't know, but he nodded anyways.

"Good. Now, lets go check out this place. Keep an eye out for Ethan and Rose, okay?" You told him, not knowing someone was already watching the two of you.

So... thought?

What did you guys think about Handsome? I'm gonna post a pic of him soon if you guys want.

Part 5 is here.

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angelz-dust · 3 years ago

Text

heatwave (jason todd x gender neutral!reader)

summary: extreme heat leads to a little accident with your popsicle and jason finds a way to rectify the problem.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni) - smut, unprotected sex (no condom, no pulling out - pls wrap it up y’all), shower sex, mild food play (popsicle), mild choking.

minors/ageless blogs who interact will be blocked - read rules before interacting

the sun shone through the window of your bedroom, the rays of light dancing against your sweaty skin as the wind from your fan made the blinds shake. you laid out on your bed, which had been stripped of its comforter, in only your underwear. you were about ready to peel those off of yourself, too. you weakly grabbed at your phone, checking the weather. 77 degrees.

77 degrees, your ass. it felt like 90.

as much as you enjoyed reaping the consequences of a depleting ozone layer, you felt like it was time to do something to control the temperature in your apartment. you weren't sure how much longer you'd be able to handle breathing in air that felt thick enough to chew. slowly, you sat up, having to peel your sheet off of your sweaty back. you were going to have to do the laundry at some point because going back to sleep in drenched sheets was just as disgusting as it sounded. that was a problem for 3pm you, though. 11am you needed water. desperately.

waddling your way to the kitchen, you opened the refrigerator door and you let out a loud moan of satisfaction. the bright white lights invited you inside its cold confines and you could've swore you saw a dead relative or two beckoning you in. you didn't want to leave the door open for too long, so you quickly grabbed the last water bottle and shut it. you wasted no time swallowing down the cold liquid, ignoring how it made your teeth hurt and froze your throat. you didn't even care that some of it had spilled down the front of your body, down your chest and to the band of your underwear. you welcomed the cold droplets onto your burning hot skin.

“fuuuuuuck,” you breathed out, your body going limp as it pressed itself against the metal refrigerator door. you could feel your perspiration creating a suction between it and your skin. it was fine, though. you had no intention of moving anyway.

had it not been for your brain taking a few minutes to power itself off, you would've heard the familiar jingle of keys unlocking the front door and you would've turned to see jason coming in with the desserts you requested.

“what the hell are you doing?” you heard him say and you slightly turned towards him, a dazed look on your face. he was already stripping out of his clothes before he even asked.

“dying,” you responded, opening the freezer for him as he threw in some ice cream and multiple boxes of popsicles.

jason put his hand on your clammy shoulder, slowly ripping you off of the fridge. he turned you towards him, holding some contraption in his hand, which appeared to be a cross between a spray bottle and a fan. without saying anything, he turned it on and began spraying you down like a misbehaving cat, only you didn't flinch. no, you relished in the feeling of the mist on your face.

“here. i got one for myself, too,” he said, handing you the fan. you smiled happily as you started spraying and fanning yourself all over.

“i hope whoever invented this is getting bomb ass head right now,” you breathed out, starting to feel some relief.

“what about the guy who bought it for you? what does he get?” jason asked, starting his fan up and spraying his chest, it now glistening with both sweat and tap water.

“absolutely nothing until the temperature drops,” you smiled at him. “what flavors did you get?”

jason’s lips puckered slightly as he leaned back against the kitchen counter. “strawberry, pineapple, and this caribbean mix with a bunch of flavors in it. you might wanna wait on eating them, though. they’ll probably melt fast.”

“it's a risk i'm willing to take,” you said, going and grabbing a popsicle for yourself. you unwrapped it and hummed happily at the flavor against your tongue. the brand jason bought was a little more expensive but it was definitely worth it. the real fruit juices and chunks were much more satisfying to taste than the artificial flavoring of the other brands.

“is it good?” jason asked, a small smile on his lips. despite being uncomfortably hot, seeing you happy made it bearable. the fact that he was able to provide you with the things you needed, even if it was something as simple as your favorite popsicle, made him feel good.

“mhm,” you nodded, some of the juices starting to trickle down your chin and onto your chest. you looked down and frowned a little. you started spraying your chest, trying to get the stickiness to go away.

jason watched you desperately try to lick up the juices that were now sliding down the stick and getting on your hands. it just wouldn't stop and it was making a huge mess, just as he had warned you it would.

“sweetheart, there's more popsicle on your chest than there is in your mouth,” he commented condescendingly and you glared at him.

“maybe that's how i like eating it, jason,” you said, his name coming out of your mouth like venom.

“you know what? i like eating it that way, too,” he nodded in agreement, stepping towards you and dipping his head down to lick at your collarbone and move down the valley of your chest.

your breath hitched at the unexpected contact and the added body heat to your personal bubble. jason had come back up, giving you a soft kiss and licking the remnants of your most recent bite off of your lips. as badly as you wanted to melt into the kiss, you pulled away. you grabbed your fan and started spraying him in the face.

“down, boy,” you scolded him playfully, little giggles coming from him as he flinched his punishment. “i'm trying to eat.”

“so am i,” he smirked, taking the popsicle from you and taking a bite out of it. he looked around the room, whistling as he not so subtly let the popsicle fall against your chest and dragging it down some, watching as it dripped down your abdomen. you gasped out as the contrasting temperatures, your back hitting the fridge.

“oh wow. i'm so sorry,” his fake apology rang against your ears. he took the dessert off of your skin, handing it back to you. “i'll get that for you.”

his lips and tongue fell upon your skin again, dragging over the stains. he found himself at your nipples, despite not getting anything on them. he swirled his tongue around the quickly hardening buds, managing to get a pleasant sound from you. he got on his knees, collecting the sweetness that was threatening to make it way to your underwear. he eagerly lapped it all up before it got to that point, firmly holding your hips against the door to prevent you from moving away.

“jason, it's too hot,” you sighed as he planted kisses up your naval, looking up at you with playful eyes.

“i know. this is really sexy, isn't it?” he spoke against your body, which got himself sprayed again by you. this time, he saw it as encouragement instead of a punishment. how thoughtful of you to help keep him cool while he focused on making you feel good.

you kept spraying him until he eventually let up, laughing again as he got off of his knees. “fine, fine. if you won't indulge me in my sexy popsicle fantasy, can we at least go take a shower?”

“only to get the juice off. no other reason,” you said coyly and he smirked at you, giving you a firm nod.

“of course. what other reason would there be?” he asked as the two of you headed to the bathroom, touching at each other and giggling your entire way there, taking what little clothes you both had off of each other. by the time the water started running, the little act had dropped and you were all over each other. it was freezing, which put your bodies into a slight shock as you panted heavily in between feverish kisses.

jason’s favorite thing to do was hoist you up, with your legs wrapped around his waist. he liked showing you how strong he was and feeling your body flush against his own. he made sure to position you high enough against the tile wall so you wouldn't have water violently hitting your face, but close enough to where you could still feel it everywhere else. he never allowed himself to be blinded by lust at the expense of your comfort.

his hips rolled into yours and his face found its way back to your chest, peppering it with kisses. you carded your fingers through his wet hair, tugging at it just how he liked. even though you were doing a very physically taxing activity, this was the coolest you had felt all day. you wasted no time giving jason’s plump lips the kisses they had deserved earlier, your boyfriend more than happy to reciprocate. as much as you didn't want to part from him again, he pulled away and began suckling at your neck. normally you would object to being marked in such a visible location but you gave him a pass this one time. after all, he was the guy who bought you the spray fan.

your feet touched the ground again and he turned you around, pressing you against the wall and grinding softly into your backside. it didn't take him long to pull your leg up and slowly insert himself inside of you. you started seeing stars and that's when your legs became like jelly, causing you to lose your balance. jason quickly reacted, your hearts pounding as you tried to stay vertical.

“are you alright?” he asked, his nose rubbing the shell of your ear.

“yeah, i just got dizzy,” you explained, grabbing his hand with an embarrassed smile. “i'm okay.”

“so clumsy,” he grinned, kissing your temple as his slow thrusting began. his hand trailed down your side and landed on your ass, using it as leverage.

you moaned his name as he started going deeper and slower. he was teasing you now, which was to be expected. even on the hottest of days, in one of the least comfortable locations, he didn't pass up the opportunity. jason treating this like any other love making session and not just a quickie turned you on even more. he never let you question his dedication to making you unravel beneath him.

“jason, please. stop teasing me,” you begged him, knowing that was the only way he would stop. closed mouths don't get fed, as he would say.

“only because you asked so nicely,” he responded smugly, picking up the pace now. the sounds of slapping skin and breathy moans were amplified by the acoustics of the room. you began feeling a slight ache; a result of jason’s girth and length inside of you. a normal person would’ve asked for a break, but not you. it fueled you to continued, fucking back against him and squeezing around the very thing that was causing you mild pain.

“it feels good, doesn’t it?” he asked you and you didn't respond. you hated how he always knew exactly what you were doing. “tell me it does, sweetheart. i wanna hear you say it.”

you ignored him again, moving against him a little faster now. his hands quickly went to your hips, holding you still. “answer me,” he whispered in your ear and you whimpered in defeat.

“it feels good,” you mumbled, trying to move again, but to no avail.

“sorry, i didn’t catch that.”

“it feels good, jason.”

“i'm glad. i want you to feel good,” he smiled, letting you go. you continued to try and reach your high, doing most of the work now while jason watched. his hands caressed your body, encouraging you to continue.

“does it feel good for you?” you asked him and he nodded.

“it always does, sweetheart. i feel amazing whenever i’m with you,” he told you, starting to meet you half way with his thrusts. “doesn't matter if i'm inside you or not.”

you felt your face heat up at his words. you hated how he had that effect on you. you felt yourself slip against the wet tile again and he caught you, pulling you back against him.

“would you stop doing that?” the two of you laughed together, taking a quick breather. “i need you to not die in the middle of me fucking you, okay?”

“okay, i'm sorry,” you giggled as jason helped you get back into position. “i'm sorry.”

“it's alright, don't worry,” he reassured you, slipping his hand up your front and around your throat. “is this okay?”

you nodded, feeling more secure in this modified position. despite your little interruption, you still felt as needy as ever. his grip on you was so gentle that you could almost be convinced you’d slip again, but jason knew your body like the back of his hand. he knew what he needed to do to keep you safe and not hurt you in the process.

“let’s finish up,” jason’s tone was comforting and you hummed in agreement, picking up right where the two of you left off. it didn't take long, either. you could feel the pressure building up inside of you, waiting to wash over you. once you felt his tip pressing against that sweet spot he was so good at exploiting, you knew there was no going back now.

you both started getting sloppy, jason’s thrusts being less methodical and your movements no longer matching with his. jason’s broken gasps and moans send you over the edge, sending you spiraling in euphoria. his grip on your throat tightened very slightly as he filled you up, his face resting in the crook of your neck. you let out a sigh as he slipped out of you, feeling his cheek pressing against you, silently urging you to turn around. you complied, your noses grazing each other before your lips met again with little kisses.

“we can take a real shower now,” he smiled against your lips, kissing you again. “no more sexy fantasies. i promise.”

“no more sexy fantasies during a heatwave,” you corrected him, grabbing your wash cloth and wiping away some of the sweat forming at his hairline. “any other time, they will be greatly accepted and expected.”

“good to know.”

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd smut #red hood smut #dc x reader

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crypticwanda · 4 years ago

Note

I'm not sure if this is where I can ask for request but how about here it is hehe i hope you are comfortable enough and nothing is triggering with the request altho it is just calm i guess haha

How about:

Reader is the first and only survivor of the hydra experiment batch before wanda and pietro joined but reader never cooperated with hydra because she was only forced to be there (kidnapped) so they keep beating her up and then when wanda and pietro came, they become close, specially with wanda because they can communicate in their minds and one day maybe hydra is not happy with wanda's progress so they decide to punish her and then reader protected her, using her power for the first time

I'm so sorry if it's too specific. You can totally change a lot of things and you can decide the power. I just really want an overprotective!reader x Wanda 😂

Thank you so much for humoring me if ever hahaha i love your stories

Oh my god overprotective!reader is amazing and yes this is where you send requests, you did it right! Also thank you so much <33

To Protect You

summary: you are the survivor of an experimental group in HYDRA before Wanda and Pietro had arrived. You and Wanda are able to communicate through your mind due to both of your powers and become close to one another. One day, a guard starts hurting Wanda because of her performance, and you snap.

pairing(s): wanda maximoff x reader

warnings: overprotective!reader, violence, abuse, cursing

taglist: @myperfectlovepoem @minnahbukharo @supersourlemon13 @royalityofmultifandom @madamevirgo @b0mbdotc0m @fayhar @olsensnpn

Your eyebrows furrowed angrily as you walked down the white hallways of the HYDRA outpost. Your wrists were red and aching from the thick metal cuffs harshly hitting your wrists. "Keep moving." You heard one of the guards say as you felt a violent push on your shoulder, causing you to grit your teeth and grunt in annoyance. "I am moving." You growl in annoyance as the guard scrunched his face in anger.

The guard had prepared to bring up his hand to strike you, but the the other guard standing next to you hand held his arm. "It's not worth it." He mutters as the other guard puts his arm down. You couldn't even feel happy about it, you knew that the only reason he stopped him was so that they wouldn't get their asses in trouble. You turned your head back forward as your eyes continued to peer angrily ahead.

A loud metallic noise was heard when the door to your cell had opened vertically. You grunted as you felt one of the guards push your back harshly as you stumbled into the cell. “I can walk on my own.” You mutter as you saw the vertical door shut. “Experimental Group one has completed their tests for today, we will resume tomorrow.” You heard one of the announcers say into the intercom as the guards outside your door start to walk away while talking with each other. You huffed out air as you turned your body and pressed your back against the cold wall. Your body sunk to the floor until you were sitting on the floor with your back against the wall. The lights around you outside your cell began turning off as they slowly reached your cell and the only light visible was the soft light in the corner of the room, barely able to light up the entire room. You sighed deeply before bringing your hand in front of your face, the metal of the cuffs clinging together. A small orange light began to emit from your fingertips as you moved them around slowly. You smiled to yourself, knowing that you were still able to use your powers, even if it was in the smallest amount. You were unsure about what your powers were and how to use them, all you knew is that one day you would use them to get out of this horrid place.

The next day, you were awoken by a loud beep sound that came from the doors in the hallways. You heard multiple footsteps emerging from the corridor and some guards talking to either themselves or someone else. You thought you could have heard chains as someone was walking, causing your face to scrunch in confusion. You grunted softly as you pushed yourself to your feet and walked over to the door of your cell and brought your head up to look out of the glass. Your eyes widened slightly as you saw two more prisoners around your age walking in front of the two guards. You observed closely as you saw both of them heading to the cells on the left side of you. Before they entered their cells one of them, a girl with dark hair and tired eyes, had looked back directly at you causing your eyes to peer slightly at her. You heard the loud doors closing, indicating that they were both in their cells. You huffed out air as you turned your body and resumed to the spot where you were sitting on the wall. ‘I wonder what they are doing here’ you thought to yourself as you looked down at your hands.

“I could ask you the same question.” You heard an accented voice asking you, almost as if it was a headset but no one was around you. The sudden voice caused you to jump as turn your head rapidly to look around your empty cell. “What the fuck.” You muttered to yourself as your heartbeat was still increasing. “Calm down, I’m talking to you through your mind.” The voice was inherently feminine with a strong accent to it. You breathed in deeply as you brought your hands back into your lap. “You’re the girl, the new prisoner they just brought into the cell next to me.” You muttered to yourself, still wondering if it was in your head or not. “My name is Wanda.” She said, she was sitting against her wall in her cell, almost parallel to you in your cell. “Y/N.” You said quietly. It almost caused her to smile just being able to talk to someone for the first time in such a long time.

“You’re different, aren’t you? Most people can’t respond when I talk to them.” Wanda said as she was moving around a box in her cell with her powers. “We’re prisoners of HYDRA, I think we’re different than most people.” You smirk slightly as you spoke. You could hear her stifling a chuckle under her breath as you spoke. Just the small conversation had caused a smile to appear on your face, it was nice to not be alone for the first time in forever.

Almost two months had passed since Wanda, and now you know her brother Pietro, had joined you in the HYDRA outpost. Ever since they arrived, you and Wanda had become close. She was the person you could talk to without even moving from your cell, it was comforting having someone to talk to. Although the treatment has been worse than ever. Usually the guards are rough, but with the Maximoff's they were worse, and it made your blood boil. If looks could kill, all the guards in that room would be dead by now.

“Maximoff!’ You heard one of the guards say, even just the sound of his voice made you clench your fist. You heard the door to her cell open and the sound of footsteps leading into her room. “You’re progress has been declining rapidly over the past few weeks, almost like you’ve been distracted by something.” The voice made your jaw clench and your eyebrows furrow. Wanda looked up at the guard from sitting on the floor with her back against the wall. She didn’t respond to the guard, she just kept her head facing the floor. “Come here.” The words of the guard had you sprinting to your door, trying to look through the glass. Since the guard was already in Wanda’s cell, you couldn’t see them. You cursed to yourself as you violently hit the door with your fist.

Wanda had hesitantly gotten up from the ground, the sound of her cuffs clinging together as she stood up. Slowly she walked over to the guard, her feet dragging along the ground as she did. Then, the guard violently grabbed Wanda by her neck, causing her to begin to choke as she gasped for air. You couldn’t see Wanda, but you could hear her suffering in your head and it made you snap. You stood in front of your door as you continuously began striking at the door with your bare fist. All you were feeling was rage coursing through your veins, and your blood was boiling. As you continued to hit the door, you started to feel an unusual feeling in your fingertips, almost like a tingling but more powerful. Then, you started to see the orange-yellow light begin to emit from your fist like once before, only this time it was brighter than before.

As you brought your hand up into the air to strike once more, the irises of your eyes began to glow a bright yellow as your hand was emitting a powerful energy that was glowing yellow and orange. When you brought you hand down to impact with the door, an impulse of energy surged throughout the entire outpost and the door you were striking flew through the air and hit the other side of the wall with a loud clang noise.

A loud alarm began blaring through the entire building as most of the guards looked up in confusion, Without even thinking about the power you had just unlocked, you turned and ran over to the cell next to your own. The guard in the room had turned his head in confusion as he let go of Wanda’s neck and she dropped to the ground, gasping for air. The guard had reached for his gun but you were already running towards him as you brought up your hand to strike him with a powerful burst of energy. His body flew and hit the back of the wall of the cell, leaving a large indent in the wall. The guard was knocked out cold, causing a bit of relief to flow through you. Even though you wanted to kill him right there, you knew Wanda’s safety was more important to you. “Wanda.” You pant as you turn to kneel down next to her on the ground as she kept a hand on her neck. You helped her stand up and to your surprise, she wrapped her arms around your neck and pulled you into a hug. You immediately reciprocate by wrapping your own arms around her and pulling her close to you. “It’s nice to finally meet you.” She said as a few tears began to well up in her eyes.

As much as you wanted to enjoy this moment, it was interrupted when more guards began to crowd around the entrance of the cell door with their guns drawn. Your eyes widened as you heard one of the guards yell, “Fire!”. Before the bullets could reach you, Wanda had picked up the bed in her cell with her powers and held it in front of the both of you as a shield. “We need a way out!” You yell over the sounds of bullets. “Pietro can get us out quickly!” She yelled back as you nodded to her. As Wanda backed up, you stood up in front of the bed and kicked it far enough so that it would hit a few of the guards. You ran out of her cell and made your way over to the two guards still standing. One of them you had hit with your powers so that he would go flying across the room. The other one you had elbowed him in the stomach and then kicked him across the room until he hit the wall. You panted heavily as you turned to see Wanda walking over to Pietro’s room. You walked up next to her and balled up your fist as the orange-yellow began emerging from your fist. You drew your hand back before punching the door, causing it to fly through the air and hit the wall of his cell. “Pietro!” Wanda said worriedly as she hugged her brother. “Time to go?” Pietro asked sarcastically, his accent showing strongly through his words. “Take Wanda first, you can come back for me.” You told Pietro as he nodded. Wanda looked up at you with confusion on her face but she didn’t have time to react before Pietro picked her up and ran out with her in the blink of an eye. Within a second, Pietro was back in front of you and he quickly swept his arms under your legs as he picked you up and quickly ran outside where Wanda was.

As you stood back on the ground after Pietro had taken both of you out of the outpost, you realized that you were both standing in the middle of a snowy forest. “So, what now?” Pietro asked as he put his hands on his hips. “We just keep moving forward.” You tell them, your breath becoming visible in the cold air. You turned towards Wanda as she kept her arms in front of her chest. “Together.” You finish as she looks up at you with a genuine smile. You didn’t know where you were going or how you were going to get there, all you knew is that now you weren’t alone anymore and you wouldn’t let anyone hurt them again.

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domthedevil · 4 years ago

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I'm absolutely loving your gentle series, could you maybe do Beel next? 👉👈

Big Beel is already so gentle and this made me weak in the knees. I don’t know what it is about this series but it’s so fun to write. Thank you for sending this in! Also is 3 AM so ignore my horrible errors.

Be Gentle pt 4

Warnings: Beel x AFAB!MC, loss of virginity

The stupid way Asmo and Mammon bickered over who you liked better only made Beel’s stomach rumble. Thinking there were better places to be, Beel crept out of the room and made his way to your room. He remembered you’d brought a special snack from the Human World for him. And he’d be lying if he said the previous conversation didn’t make him want to see you.

Hearing a knock on your door - a single loud thunk, you called for Beel to come in in response. Joyfully he walked in to see you relaxing in bed. He forgot you had been waiting for him to give this gift the him. He apologized softly before sitting behind you on the bed, wrapping his arms around you and the small present you held. Beel’s chin rested on your shoulder as your cheeks grew warm.

“I got a present from home. It’s my favorite.” Kissing his cheek softly you opened the box to show him the treat you had picked out just for him. That little dribble of drool you thought was adorable grazed your cheek. “B-Beel!!”

“S-Sorry!” He clumsily wiped his mouth and your cheek with the sleeve of his jacket. Your laugh assured him that you weren’t actually mad. Shifting to sit in his lap facing him, hands on his shoulders, you kissed his cheek again. Beel noticed hot warm your cheek was against his when you spoke lowly.

“Actually Beel...I was hoping I could ask you something?”

“Of course!” Beel managed to make out in between bites.

“MC...Im really happy.” His red cheeks framed the huge smile across his face. “I want to...be close to you.”

“You’re being too honest.” You nervously laughed. “But...if it’s you Beel, I know you’ll be gentle.”

“Of course.”

His husky voice brushed against Your lips as he kissed you softly. Too softly. But you smiled as he slowly pressed against you harder. Broad arms shed the jacket he normally wore, followed by his shirt. He knew they wouldn’t be missed. Now that they were bare, Beel’s arms wrapped around you tightly.

A small moan slipped through your puffy lips. Beel’s tongue wrestled yours into submission. His kisses were so different from anyone else’s. He knew how to work this muscle to achieve its peak performance. He groaned in response before further exploring your mouth. These small noises you made while he kissed you drove him insane. Beel blushed slightly as he thought about coming the other night to the thought of this. Of sharing this experience.

Rubbing his chest, soft but firm under your finger tips, your hips rocked slowly against his. Parting a moment from the intoxicating kiss, you let out a subtle gasp for air. Beel’s big hands travelled to your hips. Holding them still as he used his own hips to rub against you. The rough way he pressed his hardening cock against you made you wet. He was an impressive size. And you worried for a moment what it would feel like.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you MC.” His low soothing voice resounded in your core.

Holding you close, he rolled you both over. A little too eagerly, Beel helped you out of your clothing. Seeing you naked in front of him had that same small trail of drool run down his chin. You felt a little embarrassed, but flattered all the same. Wiping his mouth clean again, he lied onto you so that he could kiss you, and trail down to your sensitive nubs. A shaky moan from your excited voice made his member twitch with need.

“Is this good MC?” Beel needed validation and confirmation.

“You can be...a little rougher.” Your voice was small but laced with lust. Arms on his shoulders, you braces your self as his teeth nibbled around your peaks. Sucking and licking hungrily. “Nngh-! Y-yes...that’s good.”

As your hands tangle in his bright locks, his hands traveled under you. Your hips twitch at the feeling of his rough finger against your clit. Huffing Beel’s name quietly, he moved his finger in tight circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves. Making small waves of heat run through you. Beel grew harder the more you said his name. Fuck he was trying so hard to hold back. But this was about you, not just him.

Slipping a finger into your entrance, Beel was met with little resistance, though it felt as if it were two of your own fingers at once. You had already soaked the underwear you’d been wearing earlier,helping him ease into you. His second finger made your voice crack. Though not too thick or long, his fingers were still able to stretch parts of you that you’d never felt before. Beel whispered small encouragements as he worked to stretch you more.

“Does it hurt MC? I’ll stop if it does.”

“N-No. Don’t stop now.”

“You’re doing so well MC. Relax and let me take care of you.”

Moving away a moment, Beel’s face turned a deep red as he watched you watching him. Slowly the buckle on his belt and underwear descended and there you gazed upon his cock for the first time. He was intimidating, but you still bit your bottom lip with desire. The glazed look in your eye made Beel’s heart pound.

Holding your thighs together with his hands, Beel pulled you to the edge of your bed. Holding your legs vertically, he aligned his cock with the space between your thighs and swollen clit.

“Squeeze your thighs MC...I want to show you a little...how it’s going to feel.”

Following his suggestion and squeezing your legs tightly together, Beel thrusted his cock between your legs, tucked right above your dripping sex and slamming the tip of his cock against your clit. You couldn’t stop the moans leaving you breathless. Gripping at the sheets below you and twisting with pleasure only encouraged Beel to thrust faster and harder.

A deep burning in your core started to become unbearable. Every ridge on his shaft covered itself in your delicious slick. Your sensitive pearl being roughly pressed sent wave after wave of ecstasy over you. Soon it crashed against your shores. Walls clenching around nothing, your first orgasm had your hips twitching. Beel had to stop himself from drooling again as he admired your lewd expression. His hips had stopped once he realized your moans were growing sexier and sexier.

“M-more. Beel I want more...” you managed to puff and pant out as you spread your legs.

“I love you MC.” He held your hands in his large and rough ones. Rubbing his slick covered dick in short thrusts and pressing the tip of his cock inside you, your relaxed walls and wet pussy wanted to suck him inside. However he was going to move slow. Easing himself in, Beel groaned as it passed inside of you for the first time. You hissed loudly, holding back the cry you wanted to let out. A few small tears fell as your breathing regulated. A sharp pain had scared you a moment, but it had faded to a dull ache.

“Beel...I love you.” Your shaky voice rang out as he continued to sink himself into your warmth. “It feels so strange but...it feels so good too.”

“Do you want me to move?”

You nodded as your arms wrapped around his neck. Placing a soft kiss to your cheek, he lifted his hips in slow thrusts. Letting the feeling of his dick pulling in and out of you linger each time he moved. Licking soothingly on your neck he moved as evenly as possible.

“Is that good?”

“Mmn...m-more Beel.”

His grin and the glimmer in his amethyst eyes made you fall even more in love with him. As his hips sped up he began to press against a very sensitive spot. With how much he was stretching you it felt like every thrust built the heat in your core.

“Y-yes.”

He loved how vocal you were. Hearing how much you liked it encouraged him. Gave him freedom to indulge as well. Knowing he was the first to see this side of you made him blush furiously. This sight was just for him. Straightening his back, Beel looked down at you as he bounced you up and down his cock. Seeing the full picture made his orgasm quicken. And soon your name fell from his lips like a spell he had to remember for class.

“Beel I’m close again. It’s so tight and hot. W-what do I do?” There was a slight panic in your tone.

“Shhh...hold on to me.”

Wrapping his arms around your torso again, Beel buried his face into your neck. Your hasty moans and whimpers made him drool uncontrollably. This time there was no stopping it. But you were too focused on the burning coil about to spring inside you.

“Coming...” Beel could barely make out your whine. But he knew he had heard you clearly when your walls flexed and pulsed and squeezed around him. A deep guttural sound echoed in your room as Beel unexpectedly felt himself come inside you. You begged him to still a moment as your whole body twitched and adjusted back to gravity. Your orgasm had run so deep your toes were numb.

“MC. Are you...?” Beel’s voice trailed off as he finished cleaning you and himself up. Still nude, he rested on the bed beside you. Locking eyes with yours.

“I’m great Beel. That was so amazing.” You bit your lip again, looking at him with bedroom eyes. “Can we...do it again?”

Letting out a hearty chuckle, Beel lifted you so that you straddled his waist above him.

“Anything for you MC.”

“You’re drooling Beel...”

This is a continuation of a request. Read more here:

Be Gentle (Levi x AFAB!MC)

Be Gentle (Belphegore x AFAB!MC)

Be Gentle (Satan x AFAB!MC)

#obey me fanfic #om! fanfic #ns//fw #obey me smut #om! smut #obey me #om!#obey me beelzebub #om! beelzebub #obey me! beelzebub #om! Beel #obey me beel #be gentle

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zinzinina · 3 years ago

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Hi hi Sam!! 💕 Could I please send a ✨ for ‘Hierarchy of Needs’ (one of my favorite fics, btw)? I am thinking about the part where reader first sees Rex on the Resolute, and she’s senses his energy signature. I’d just love to know what he was thinking about! 💖

Hi Jess! Thank you so much, my love! I had a lot of fun with your suggestion x

Pairing: Captain Rex x F!Reader Words: 950 Rating: Mature (Non-explicit) Warnings: Canon-typical mention of violence and war

This is a reworking of a scene from this fic, told from Rex’s POV.

from a certain point of view ask game ✨

Rex’s mind is so deep into strategy he’s barely aware of the quiet murmuring around the edges of the holodisplay from the figures waiting for the briefing to begin. He needs to mobilise a small detachment without attracting attention from the main deluge of fire; he’s already considering which troopers are most likely to manage to make planetfall without coming to any harm.

But then he hears the familiar, smooth lilt of Skywalker’s voice behind him.

“…is Captain Rex, of the 501st.”

He turns at the sound of his name, and there you are.

Rex isn’t flustered easily. He can’t afford it. It doesn’t help anybody in the heat of battle when the commanding officer is left without a plan, regardless of what happens. His men look to him in the midst of death and dismemberment and horrors beyond anything they could have imagined sitting through simulations in training. It’s his job to stay calm, even if his stomach is turning with the sights and smells of warfare.

Which makes the sheer intensity of his body’s response to the sight of you even more alarming.

His heart jolts like he’s been thrown out of a moving transport without warning. Every thought of flight paths and ballistic vertices leaves him, his head completely empty except for this: what are you doing out here? You’re only supposed to be providing ground support for relief missions; evacuating civilians, accompanying official convoys safely to their destinations. This is an active combat zone. It isn’t safe. But as he watches you tilt your head, listening intently to whatever Skywalker’s saying now, he’s reminded that nowhere in the galaxy is safe anymore. Not for soldiers, not for civilians, and not for Jedi.

Your eyes turn up and meet his, and he’s caught for the first time in your direct gaze. His breath leaves him. Maker, you’re beautiful. Even more beautiful than he remembers, in the way you’d gently crossed your arms over your chest during the last holoconference, your fingers tapping lightly against your own forearm. He could nearly buckle under the weight of this; how close you are, close enough to smell the faint sweetness of incense on your robes and hair. He feels like a cadet again; as though he’s experiencing the same embarrassed, slightly dizzy groundlessness of falling from a height during a training exercise and being teased by his older brothers. He can nearly hear the grin in Cody’s voice ringing in his ears: “Get up, vod’ika! It’s not naptime now!”

Your lips part slightly as you gaze across into his face, and he feels the prickle of heat under the high neck of his blacks as this thought intrudes above all others: your bottom lip looks as though it would be so soft under the gentle press of his thumb… or his teeth.

It only takes him a second to shuffle through this storm of emotion and shove it all down — hard. He knows he was pretty quick, but as your brows draw slightly together in confusion, he worries for a moment he wasn’t quick enough. With a focus bordering on frantic, he draws up thoughts of his DC-17s; mentally disassembling them, cleaning out the interior components, checking over the carbines. He realises that his distracted nod of acknowledgement to you is gruff, bordering almost on surliness, but it’s better than the alternative.

He ignores Skywalker’s sideways glance of amusement, maintaining his concentration as the briefing commences. Even as he directs every thread of his attention to avoiding them, the thoughts still turn over in the hidden quiet of the underneath-part of his mind. At one point, your hand comes up unconsciously to touch your chin, your index finger brushing the side of your mouth. And if he weren’t already watching you, he’d have missed it; but there it is, and you glance at him again for just a second, your eyes darting nervously away.

He’s seen this before. With the soft-spoken archivist on Coruscant. With the funny, glamorous translator aide on that mission to Malastare. Glittering, confident women in bars during nights off, and shy, sweet women on remote farming worlds. He’s not unaware of the presence he carries, and he’s had enough women stroking their own lips while looking at him to know what it means. In the same moment that the realisation swells with joy in his chest, it breaks his fucking heart.

Rex has never allowed himself to want anything too deeply. Some of his brothers relish in their shore leave; glutting themselves on civilian food, drinking and dancing until they’re nearly too exhausted to stumble back to the barracks. He can’t begrudge them this. Not when any night could be their last. He’s never shared in these activities with quite the same level of enthusiasm though, finding it foolish, close to dangerous to want something that he couldn’t have. Every fresh-cooked cantina meal only made the ration packs the next morning taste that much blander by comparison.

So instead he’d managed to almost completely convince himself that everything he wanted, he already had. To serve the Republic with dignity and pride. To protect the people who couldn’t protect themselves. To be a brave, strong leader. A good brother. A good soldier.

But looking at you as you nervously readjust the wide sleeves of your robes, your eyelashes flicking sideways as you glance at the tally marks on his thighplate, he realises how very wrong he was. There was never any danger in food or spirits, cards or dancing. The danger was here all along, right where he’d stumble blindly into it. And now that he’s faced with the one thing so far removed from the realm of possibility as to be almost physically painful, he’s never wanted anything so badly in his entire life.

#from a certain point of view ask game #captain rex x f!reader #saradika

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liz-allyn · 3 years ago

Text

shudder, part 5/6 [agent mobius x gn!reader]

After disaster places your life in danger, Mobius makes a consequential choice.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Series Summary: Pre-Loki series. You are one of the most dangerous variants the TVA has ever recovered, but Mobius knows what makes you tick. Five times he made you shudder, and the one time you returned the favor.

Words: 4k

Chapter Warnings/Tags: Language; Graphic Violence; Whump; Angst; Panic Attack; Hurt/Comfort; If the movie Titanic stresses you out too much-this isn't for you, chief; Mobius x reader

2889. Hell was erupting on the planet of Olympus-V in its final hours.

A fierce rainstorm barreled down on the alien world’s rocky cliff face. A dangerous surf crashed on the rocks, the sea threatening to scale the cliffs. The sky glowed crimson, illuminated by a Red Giant that was hours from its own collapse. The red light gave the rainstorm an eerie hue. It looked like it was raining blood.

The landscape was crowned by the fiery wreckage of an alien ship. It was the intended getaway vessel of a dangerous variant that managed to escape your team through a hijacked Time Door. Your team followed him boldly, not realizing it was never a getaway. It was a suicide mission. And you walked right into a kamikaze attack.

The variant was dead. Eight other Minutemen were dead. Your still-sorta-new analyst partner was dead. B-15 was badly wounded and unresponsive. You and C-20 were stumbling through the corridors of the ship, both sporting nasty head wounds, as you dragged-carried B-15 towards refuge.

Catastrophe was a mild description, never mind the looming apocalypse outside.

“Help!” another voice rang out from the distance. It was U-91. “Somebody help me!”

You turned towards the sound of the man’s voice, stopping in your tracks. You looked at C-20.

The ground beneath your feet was subtly moving, quaking the ship with every inch. The rocky soil beneath you was giving way under the weight of the wreckage. You and C-20 knew that soon the ship would be a fireball at the bottom of the cliff. But you couldn’t leave him behind.

“Go,” you ordered. “Get her outta here.”

You turned around and rushed back into the smoke and flames. C-20 watched you anxiously as you disappeared. She carried on her rescue mission, dragging B-15 towards a temporarily opened Time Door that would lead them safely back to TVA HQ. It would stay open, as long as the ship didn’t crumble down the cliff.

You were alone again, covering your mouth with your jacket sleeve, following the painful groans as they grew louder.

“I’m over here!” U-91 hollered, his voice echoing down a corridor that was bent nearly vertically. You spotted his position, flush against the ground, but you would have to scale walls of the hallway at a steep angle to reach him. “I’m stuck on something!” he shouted.

“Hang on!” you replied. You approached the base of the corridor with trepidation. Carefully and quickly, you began to climb up the hallway via the walls. You gripped door frames, pipes, handles - anything that you could use to scale the corridor.

“Where’s A-19,” the Minuteman shouted about his partner. “I can’t find A-19!” He sounded panicked, which was never good.

“Hang on, I’m almost there!”

“Did you find A-19?”

You didn’t immediately reply, seeing from your vantage point what he could not. U-91 was less than 10 feet from you, and was truly “stuck.”

His leg was impaled on a ripped pipe that had torn away from the wall in the crash. He was hanging there helplessly by his limb. You winced at the sight and scanned your eyes over the area. You locked on to another gruesome sight: the body of his partner of many years, A-19, crushed by a beam just feet away..

“I c-can’t move,” U-91 said with a choked-out sob. You’d never seen this hunter anything less than tough-as-nails. But now he was weeping. “I-I… I can’t find A-19.”

“It’s okay,” you said as calmly as you could.His wailing broke your heart. “I’m going to get you.”

The final hurdle was going to be just that. You needed to jump up and reach the top of the doorframe to be able to free U-91. You glanced down the corridor warily.

The ship growled impatiently as it shifted another inch.

You used all your strength to leap up in the air and catch the doorframe. You’re pretty sure you sprained your shoulder, if you hadn’t already in the crash. You struggled to keep a firm grip as you shimmied to reach him.

While supporting his weight, you pulled the pipe downwards and freed him. His weight fell on you, unleashing cries from you both. But you didn’t let go.

U-91 looked at you blearily, body wracked with pain and exhaustion. He froze. His eyes went black. You knew exactly whose body he could finally see.

“No,” he cried out pitifully. “No!”

“We have to go!” you implored him. “The ship is unstable and we’re going to fall.”

He couldn’t take his eyes off of his partner’s body.

You held him tightly, and looked down the corridor to where you began. This part was basically a giant slide if you aimed just right. Just like at a water park. Piece of cake.

You said a brief prayer and leaned U-91’s weight across your chest as you both slid down the walls of the corridor. You landed with a harsh thud and U-91 cried out again in agony.

You looked up at the Time Door, still open where you left it - where C-20 and B-15 had already made their escape. It was just you and U-91 alone. If you ran now, you could make it.

“You did this,” you heard U-91 moan beside you. He was delirious; you could only imagine the immense physical and emotional pain he was in. “We should’ve never followed you—”

His sentiments burned like acid, but you shook them off. “Come on!” you hissed, using all of your strength to pull him onto your back. Your shoulder was buckling from the weight, still ravaged from your last injury in the field.

Maybe you were bad luck. Maybe U-91 had a point.

“I need you to walk!” you ordered him.

“You killed us,” U-91 repeated through chattering teeth. “You killed us...”

You tried to throw him on your back and carry him fireman-style towards the exit. Four steps in and you lost your balance. Both of you fell to the ground as the ship started quaking. This time, it didn’t stop.

You felt a strong hand grip your upper arm and yank you to your feet. For a moment you expected to see C-20 back to rescue you. Your heart skipped a beat at who you saw instead.

Mobius pulled you up close until you were nearly nose-to-nose. You gaped at him like a literal deus ex machina come down from the heavens to deliver salvation. He wasn’t supposed to be on this mission. He wasn’t on the mission. How did he get here—?

The Time Door. He went through the Time Door. He came there for you.

“We gotta move!” Mobius shouted as the vibrations jolted you both into action. He reached down and grabbed hold of U-91, and you grabbed the injured man’s other side. It was much quicker to carry the man down the hallway until you were steps away from the time door.

Then the ground shifted, and your world was upside down.

When you came to, the first thing you felt was the cold. You were laying on the ceiling of the ship.

There was a voice echoing— Mobius’ voice. He was crouched down over you shouting something that you couldn’t hear.

You noticed his TVA flank jacket and tie. Paired with the mustache he looked like a detective on a procedural cop show. This stupidly-handsome, hero time cop walked into an apocalypse to save you, now stared down at you with wide, terrified eyes.

That’s when you realized you couldn’t move.

“Stay with me,” he implored, as he lifted your head out of the water.

With your ears clear, you could finally hear the chaos around you. A symphony of groans from twisting metal squealed and cracked through the halls of the ship. You could hear another crushing sound on top of the din. Rushing water.

You lifted your head to see why you were cold. You were laying in rising water with your hips pinned to the ground by a fallen steel door. Mobius was pulling up on the door desperately trying to free you.

Your heart began to pound.

The ship had fallen off the cliff into the ocean below. You were now sinking, the wreckage falling deeper into the sea, with you trapped inside.

You saw water rushing in through the hallways, filling all the corridors. It surrounded you. It was going to bury you.

“Agent Mobius!” you heard from a distance. “Get through the portal!”

You turned your head to see two Minutemen shouting as they dragged the injured U-91 through a flickering Time Door. They were so far away.

“Get help!” Mobius ordered frantically. “I can’t lift it off of her!”

“We can’t keep it open!” one of their voices echoed back. “Sir, you gotta get out bef—”

The door shorted out and vanished. And now, you were both trapped. .

“Mobius…” you exclaimed, barely able to breathe through your terror.

The water was rising quickly. Mobius glanced down at you again, and he reached down deeper to get a grip on your restraints. You both struggled and grunted, but the door only slid a little further without freeing you.

You were allowed a little more space to breathe, and were able to lift your torso a little higher out of the water. The relief was short-lived. The water was flowing rapidly and neither of you were strong enough.

“Damn it!” he roared in frustration.

You glanced around frantically and spotted an opportunity. “Look! There!”

He followed the end of your finger to a pipe nearby. He was on his feet immediately, kicking the piece of metal loose as you continued to try to push the door off of you. Once he broke the pipe free, he brought it over to you and stuck it in the space between your body and the watery ground, driving it down deep beside your leg. He gripped the pole tight and lifted with all of his might.

You pushed up on the door as he shouted, his muscles burning. You were shifting and thrashing like a fish in the frigid water until you were finally able to pull your hips out. You kicked furiously in the tiny crawl space until your legs were freed.

Mobius dropped the weight, and collapsed on his hands and knees. You were reaching for him desperately, your fingers aching to hold him. He wrapped his arms around you, embracing you tightly, as you both kneeled in the ocean water.

A sob escaped your lips as you buried your face in his neck. “You came back for me…” Your body shook as you cried like a child.

He tightened his hold on you and you felt the hair of his mustache graze the delicate skin of your neck.

“Of course,” he replied.

You wanted to hold onto him forever, letting the tears flow freely down your cheeks. It was the greatest act of love that anyone had ever shown you. And it was about to be the last.

Your eyes focused ominously on other imminent danger pounding its way through the doors.

“Moby...” you shuddered as he pulled you up to your feet. The water level was crawling up your thighs, rushing in from everywhere.

He snapped into action, grabbed you by the wrist, and pulled you back down the (inverted) hallway where the Time Door once stood. You took giant strides to push through the current towards a less-submerged part of the corridor.

It became easier to run, but everywhere you looked, your nightmares were coming to life. Your brain began to cease; your mind locked up. You were being paralyzed by terror.

Mobius was shouting something again, but you only caught part of it.

“...outer ring of the ship. If we swim we can make it.”

“What?” you blinked incredulously. He pointed towards a submerged hallway. A water-filled tunnel into the deep darkness. You looked up at him with wide eyes, horrified at his suggestion.

“The ship’s emergency systems would’ve opened the door passages in the event of a crash,” Mobius rushed to explain. “The way should be clear. If we swim now, we can make it out of the ship and up to the surface.”

You were shaking your head, trembling uncontrollably.

“We can do this,” Mobius breathed, pulling you towards the deeper end of the water.

“No-no-no,” you shrank away from his grip. “No, please, no..!”

“We don’t have a choice!” he exclaimed, wrapping his arms around you. He took a breath and calmed himself once more, “We’re running out of time.”

“Please, don’t make me!” You were crying again. “I-I-I can’t, I’ll drown.”

“No, you won’t—”

“You don’t know where you’re going! You don’t know if there’s even a way out!”

“We have to try,” he explained, meeting your pleas with calm declarations. “If we don’t, we’re gonna die in here. The more we wait, the deeper we sink.”

He had stopped pulling you towards the water, but he wouldn’t let you pull away. He held your body close to him, and for a moment you thought he’d drag you under. He was begging you not to give him a reason.

“Please icanticantocant…” You gripped his chest desperately.

His hands went to the sides of your head, a placating touch matched with a stern voice. “Look at me,” he ordered. He was once again that person that you’d met in the time theater: calm, compassionate, but equally authoritative and focused. “Look at me,” he repeated. You did, and that was the last time he’d ever have to give you directions twice.

You reached up and covered his hands with your own as he held your face. His dark orbs were gentle as they drew you in, hypnotizing you into a vague sense of calm.

He was reading you again—reading and dictating the pages of your mind, writing miracles in the margins of your nightmares.

“You can do this,” he declared with resolve. He whispered to you at a frequency you could hear, even over the crashing current. “You’re the best hunter we have. I’ve seen what you can do.” He gazed at you like he could see the sun rise through your eyes. “You can do anything.”

Your heart swelled and ached.

“I swear to you,” he said softly, as if in prayer, “you will make it to the surface.” He touched his forehead to yours as he wiped the tears from your face with his calloused thumbs. “You’re not going to drown.”

He sounded so confident. Like it was already written and he’d read it many times before, and this was all just another page in the chronicles of the Sacred Timeline. You wanted to believe him. He was asking you to believe him.

That was the moment you realized it.

He was the only thing in the universe that mattered to you.

You couldn’t fathom a version of your story without him in it. You believed in him. And even if he was wrong, it was worth dying for.

You wanted to cry out; to tell him all of the things you felt for him - that you loved him, and would die for him, and wanted nothing more than to be back in his bed at the TVA where he could hold you and tell you that the nightmares were over and that you were safe with him.

“Okay?” he said to you, his eyes fixed.

You blinked at him, and gave him a gentle nod. “Okay.”

He took your hand in his and walked you into the icy water. You were soaked already but your body jolted from the shocking cold.

“We need to slow down our heart rates,” Mobius explained. “Preserve the oxygen a little longer, alright? So we’re going to take five deep breaths - together, then we go under, okay? I’ll give you the signal when it’s safe to breathe.”

You nodded, despite your terror. You couldn’t take your eyes off him, trying to burn into your memory every line and curve of his face.

“Just don’t leave me behind, okay?” you pleaded with him meekly. You didn’t even think about what you’d said until it was done. His eyes softened as they rested on you. “Promise you’ll stay with me?” you asked.

He contemplated you, then reached out and pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“Always,” he promised.

You both turned towards the water, then back to each other. “Okay, five deep breaths,” he instructed. “In and out. Through your nose.” You filled your chest with air and exhaled deeply.

“That’s one,” he counted. “Pull in from the diaphragm.” Mobius rested his hand on your stomach and watched it move with your next inhale and exhale.

“Two.” Another deep breath. He removed his hand from your belly and grasped your hand. There was no way you were going to let it go.

“Three.”

You were gazing into his eyes again, losing yourself in their warm earthy tones.

“Four. One more, in and out.”

You pulled the air in through your nose and out through your mouth, in sync with him.

“Five. Deep breath.”

You filled your lungs as tightly as you could, and dived beneath the surface with him.

It was so much darker than you’d expected. You might as well have been swimming through a starry sky, and in your mind that’s what you wanted to pretend. There were brief flashes - sparks from blown fuses, mostly - that would illuminate your surroundings. You pretended they were flares from stars dying out as you swam through the milky way.

The water was so cold. It was the kind of cold that your skin doesn’t acclimate to. You started counting in your mind as your feet kicked. You weren’t sure how long you'd been holding your breath, but you’d only made it down the first hallway. Mobius pulled you around another corner, continuing on to some blind destination.

How did he know where he was going? You didn’t let your mind dwell on it, as you felt your heart start to pound under the exertion. He knows about space ships, probably an expert. An expert on space ships and jetskis.

Down another corridor. It was getting darker. Were you supposed to be swimming up, or down? You were moving so slow although every muscle in your body struggled to propel you forward. Maybe the cold was slowing you down.

Your chest was burning.

Mobius was still kicking and pulling himself through the water, holding your hand tightly. He was a strong swimmer. Fit for his age, which was… 1,000? Time moved differently in the TVA, so you didn’t know. He was moving slower now, you noticed. Or maybe time was slowing down. Maybe you were drowning already.

God, your chest hurts.

You reached another intersection. He hesitated, looking back and forth briefly. Your mind registered the brief pause, but before you began to panic he pulled you along.

The stars had all gone out. It was so dark.

You kept thrusting your arms deeper through the water, picking up the pace. They were burning from lack of oxygen, but it only made you fight harder.

Mobius pulled you to a stop and you went through another door. It was an elevator shaft of some kind, and the sparks above illuminated the path forward.

Bright lights were filling your gaze, but not from the sparks.

You kept kicking. You could see light. Red light.

Mobius is pulling you forward now. The opening is right there. You’re almost out of the ship and can see the red glow of the surface.

Every thrust of your arms makes them weaker. Like you’re swimming in molasses.

Your lungs are on fire. You’re kicking freely past the confines of the ship. The surface is getting brighter. How deep were you - maybe 40 feet? 30 feet?

You weren’t going to make it.

You were running out of air fast. Your body was beginning to convulse as Mobius held you against him. The world around you was getting brighter and darker.

You weren’t going to make it. You were running out of time.

Mobius stopped his upward push and for the first time you could feel he was losing it too. He let go of your hand, but grabbed the sides of your face. His mouth was on yours, and he gripped the knape of your neck.

That’s when you felt it. The double-squeeze. The signal.

You breathed inwards instinctively before you realized what he was doing. He emptied the last bit of oxygen into your lungs and you felt his grip soften.

It wasn’t much, but it was enough to save you from blacking out. You felt his touch disappear. Your hand shot out through the water and gripped him by the arm. You turned your gaze up to the surface and kicked as hard as you could, reaching up for the sky.

No, no, no, no, no.

You were busy trying to convince your mind that this wasn’t really happening. That Mobius was not limp in the current beneath you. You climbed furiously upwards. 15 feet. 10 feet. 5 feet.

Your head ripped through the surface as you gasped for air, choking on the blistering pain. Rain pelted your face as you kicked to stay afloat on the surface. “Mobius!” you cried out as you dragged him up above the water. His head rolled back in a way that gutted you.

You glanced around frantically as a wave crested over you both, filling your mouth with sea water. You spat as you broke through the surface again, kicking even harder to keep him afloat.

You started swimming towards the shore. The tide allowed you to ride the current most of the way. It was dumb luck. You probably would have drowned otherwise.

You held Mobius tight, fighting to keep his head above water, as another surge pushed you forward. A beachhead at the base of the cliff was visible in your sights. One more wave and you both washed up on the crystalline white sand of the shore.

Every muscle in your body throbbed, but you didn’t stop. You squirmed to your feet and dragged your partner with all of your strength further up the beach.

He wasn’t moving. You crouched down beside him, your body shaking with terror. You dropped your ear to his mouth.

He wasn’t breathing.

“No... no, Mobius...”

Your teeth were chattering cold while hot tears flooded down your cheeks. Your mind struggled frantically to process a solution.

You stacked your hands firmly in the center of his chest and sat up on your knees, counting each compression under your breath.

After the count of ten, you tilted his head back, opening his airway, pinched his nose and breathed deeply into his lungs. Tears were falling freely from your eyes onto his face, and you choked back a sob after your second breath did not resuscitate him.

“No,” your voice was thick with anger. “No - you promised me.”

You repeated the process of CPR, compressing his chest and breathing into his mouth to no avail.

“You promised me, you son of a bitch,” you hissed. “You promised you’d stay with me!”

You shoved the heel of your palm into his chest even harder. Your shoulders were filled with a strength that the rest of your body was drained of. This was worse than heartbreak. Your soul was crumbling.

“Please don’t leave,” you were begging. “Please come back... Please, I need you...”

A cough sprang forth from his throat as water shot up from his mouth.

The rush of joy winded you and knocked you to your elbows. Mobius turned his head and expelled the rest of the sea water from his lungs, coughing harshly, his whole body shaking.

You were shaking too, not just from the cold.

“God,” you breathed, overcome with immeasurable relief. Hearing him gasp for air was the closest you’d ever come to heaven.

You laid your head on his chest as silent cries racked your body. You were now a disciple, a humble and devout witness to whatever miracle brought you two together. You squeezed your eyes shut as you listened to the sound of his heartbeat, the gentle sound of each blessed breath. And you worshipped him.

“S-See,” he said with a cough, that sly smirk on his face. “To-toldya w-we’d make it.”

And for that comment, you were going to kill him.

Part 6

A/N: Ok kids, the next chapter is straight up hard R-rated. Like X-rated. Like. The. Whole. Chapter. I’ve never written anything like this. And it’s long! Is that weird? I keep thinking 4k words of smut is like… whoa… Your thoughts in the comments, please. Part of me also just wants to cut the smut in the middle but that would be cruel, right?

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