#i was fully planning an escape route

[communistfries]

A fun part about living in the us is when you don't expect there to be fireworks and then are suddenly faced with the sound of fireworks going off you are NOT immediately excited. On account of thinking you are about 2 b shot

[heretodefyfate]

Maybe on Renegade route, the entire A-gang team will beat the interceptor's ass together

Like, they are so scared, so angry that the entire gang don't want to sleep anymore. They all want to wake up and stop this mad person from destroying their world.

Emotion and determination run so strong that the entire nightmare realm answered their calls and visualize all of them to physically appear together.

Sorta like the reborn guantlet fight at the Glass factory. Except, it's all doubles battles (aevis/aevia, axel/ariana, aero/alain). (Nightmare realm don't work like that but hey i can dream~)

[rileyslibrary]

Okay okay but hear me out- reader gets assigned on their first solo mission by Price and Ghost is inwardly concerned for them and keeps subtly giving tips to reader about the basics of any mission as way to prepare them

Hi, anon and thank you for requesting this! I made some minor adjustments to the original idea since I got lost in the process once I began writing. Reader is also fully aware of Ghost’s concerns and messes with him.

Fluffy, the usual banter, an emotionally constipated Ghost, yada yada. Enjoy!

———————————————————————

“Again,” Ghost murmurs as he shuffles through the row of tactical knives on the table. He decides on one, picks it up and walks towards you. “What is this?” He asks.

You look up from tying the laces of your boots and redirect your attention at him. He either believes you’re an idiot or doesn’t trust you enough. Either way, it’s not a good sign.

“Good question, Lieutenant,” you reply. “What you’re holding in your hands is a knife. Knives were one of the earliest tools used by humanity to-”

“Cut it out.”

“That’s correct!” you exclaim. “You mainly use one of those to cut stuff.”

A long sigh escapes him, and he throws his head up. He lowers the knife and walks towards the table, scratching the back of his balaclava with the other hand. He takes a few breaths, turns around and lifts the knife again.

“That’s not what I’m asking, and you know it.” He growls. “What kind of knife is it?”

“A sharp one.”

“Stop it.”

“You mean stab it?” you ask and continue tying your laces. “Yes. Yes, you can definitely stab with it.”

He throws the knife onto the table and leans on a chair, holding it with both hands. His brows are tied together, and you can see his jaw tightening beneath the balaclava.

“I need you to focus.” He says firmly. “This is not the right time for jokes.”

You stand up and walk towards him, now standing by his side. You grab his shoulder and squeeze it. He doesn’t budge, yet he slowly shakes his head.

“You’re worried.” You state.

“I’m not worried.” He replies. “I don’t know what Price was thinking; the stakes are too high for this to be your first solo mission.”

“So you don’t trust me.”

“Of course I trust you.” He says and lets go of the chair. “It’s just too dangerous for you to go alone.”

“So you are worried.” You whisper with a smirk.

He looks at you with the side of his eye and picks up a map from the table. He spreads it out in front of him.

“Alright,” he says, “let’s go over the route again.”

“Got it,” you nod. “So, what’s the plan?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’s the plan?’” He shouts, turning to look at you with wide eyes. “We’ve been through this-”

“-a hundred times now.” You interrupt. “Yet you still want to go over it again and again and again and again.”

“I just need you to be ready.”

“I am ready!”

“Then go on,” he says, pushing the map towards you, “what’s the plan?”

“Alright,” you begin, pointing to a door on the eastern side of the facility. “I’ll start here, at the service entrance. It’s not heavily guarded since they mainly use it for their occasional smoke breaks.”

“But you’ll still need to be cautious,” He adds.

You ignore his remark and continue to outline the route.

“From there,” you say, moving your finger along a series of corridors, “I’ll make my way through the maintenance tunnels. They’re narrow and dark but should provide good cover from security patrols.”

“And when you reach the central hub,” Ghost continues, pointing to a large room at the heart of the facility, “you’ll need to be especially careful since that’s where the security is the tightest. There’s only one entry point, so once you get to this door you should-”

“Knock.”

He slowly turns towards you and gives you a side-eye. “You’re not taking this seriously,” he whispers.

“On the contrary, Lieutenant,” you jest. “I’m deadly serious.”

“Deadly serious?” he scoffs and shakes his head. “You might end up seriously dead if you don’t pay attention.”

You roll your eyes and let out a sigh.

“When I get close to that door,” you say, pointing at the map, “I’ll wait for Soap and Gaz to manipulate the security systems and set off the alarms. Once the commotion is at its highest, I’ll infiltrate the hub, collect the intel, and escape through the ventilation shafts.”

“Right,” he says and folds the map. “Do you have everything you need?”

You turn your attention to yourself, checking your tactical vest, and he does the same. His eyes scan over every piece of equipment on you. He walks around you, tracing his fingers along the edges of your gear, checking for any signs of damage. He reaches out to adjust a loose strap on your vest, ensuring it’s securely fastened.

“You need to make sure everything is secure,” he says as he continues to search each pocket and pouch on you, ensuring that your supplies are well-stocked and easily accessible. “We can’t risk losing any essential gear during the mission.”

You follow him with your eyes and smirk as he inspects you. “Is that what worries you?” You ask. “Losing gear?”

He pauses for a second and meets your eyes. “You know what I mean,” he says as he tightens a buckle on your waist. He takes a few steps back and nods. “Everything looks good,” he concludes.

“Alright,” you nod back and walk towards the door. “Let’s do this.”

“Stay sharp out there!” he shouts.

“Yeah, yeah,” You shout back as you exit the briefing room, “sharp like a knife!”

———————————————————————

[natsaffection]

OOOOH I HAVE A REQUEST could you do nat x reader where reader is nat’s stress relief (Natasha is a mob leader or ceo or something powerful) and our whole job is to be ready for nat to take, punish, degrade and use whenever she pleases. Top/mean nat super smutty 🫣

Mine to use.

Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! Using body for own pleasure, begging, strap on, rough sex, oral (n receiving) spanking, power use

Word Count: 2,1k

A/N: ups..💆🏻‍♀️

Natasha Romanoff, known in the underworld as the Black Widow, sat at the head of a long mahogany table in her luxurious office. The room was dimly lit, the only illumination coming from the city lights filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Her presence commanded respect and fear, a combination that had allowed her to rise to the top of the criminal hierarchy.

Dressed in a tailored black suit, Natasha exuded power and control. Her red hair was neatly tied back, emphasizing her sharp features and piercing green eyes that seemed to see right through any deception. She leaned back in her chair, listening intently to the reports from her lieutenants, each of whom vied for her approval.

“Our shipment from Eastern Europe has been delayed,” one of her men reported, his voice tinged with anxiety. “The authorities have tightened their inspections. We’re looking at a two-week delay, at least.”

Natasha’s eyes narrowed, but she remained silent, her fingers drumming on the table. She had little patience for delays and incompetence. “And the situation with the East Side gangs?” she asked, her voice cold and measured.

“We’ve managed to secure a temporary truce,” another lieutenant responded. “But it’s fragile. They’re demanding a larger cut of the profits.” Natasha’s lips curled into a predatory smile. “Demanding? They’re in no position to demand anything from me.”

As the meeting continued, Natasha’s mind drifted slightly. Beneath the table, hidden from the view of her subordinates, you knelt quietly. You had been summoned earlier, your presence required for a different kind of service. Natasha’s hand found its way to your hair, tangling in the strands as a silent command.

You knew what was expected of you. You leaned forward, your movements careful and deliberate. Your tongue traced a path along Natasha’s inner thigh, your touch light and teasing. Natasha closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the sensation, a soft sigh escaping her lips. Her men exchanged glances, shifting uncomfortably in their seats, fully aware of Natasha’s reputation and her ways with girls.

“How do you plan to handle the shipment delay?” Natasha asked, her voice steady despite the pleasure coursing through her.

“We’re exploring alternative routes,” the lieutenant replied nervously, trying to maintain his composure. “It will cost more, but we can avoid the increased inspections.”

Natasha nodded thoughtfully, her attention divided. “Do it. I want that shipment here within the week.” Your tongue worked skillfully, your movements guided by the rhythm of Natasha’s hand. Sometimes you really wondered how you ended up in this situation and could still remember exactly the first encounter with her:

“Over my knee.” she commanded, her voice sharp and unyielding. You hesitated for a moment, confusion and fear clouding your mind. “Miss Romanoff, I don’t understand—”

“Did I ask for an explanation?” Natasha snapped, her eyes flashing with anger. “Over my knee. Now.”

Swallowing hard, you complied, draping yourself over Natasha’s lap. The position was humiliating, but you knew better than to protest further. Natasha’s hand rested on your lower back, holding you in place.

“Do you know why you’re being punished?” Natasha asked, her voice icy. “No, Miss Romanof..” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“One of my so-called colleagues made a mistake,” Natasha began, her hand coming down sharply on your backside. You gasped, gripping Natasha’s knee to steady yourself. “And I don’t tolerate mistakes.”

The spanking continued, each strike harder than the last, each one a release of Natasha’s pent-up frustration and anger. Your body jerked with each blow, your cheeks burning both from the pain and the humiliation.

“M-Miss Romanoff, please!” you cried out finally. “I didn’t do anything wrong!” Natasha’s hand paused mid-air. “What did you just say?” she asked, her voice dangerously low.

“I—I’m sorry, but I didn’t do anything w-wrong..” you repeated, your voice breaking. Natasha’s eyes narrowed. “Talking back, are we?” she hissed. “You will learn not to speak unless spoken to.”

With renewed fury, Natasha continued the spanking, her strikes even harder than before. Your body jerked with each blow, your cries filling the room. You clung more to Natasha’s knee, desperate to keep yourself from crying out too loudly.

The office door opened suddenly, and one of Natasha’s colleagues stepped inside. He froze, eyes wide as he took in the scene.

“I’m sorry. I—I didn’t realize you were busy..” he stammered. Natasha didn’t pause in her actions, her hand continuing to come down on your backside with methodical precision. “What do you need?” she asked coolly, her eyes never leaving your quivering form.

“I, uh, have the reports you requested.” he replied, trying to maintain his composure. “Leave them on the desk,” Natasha instructed, her voice steady. “And close the door on your way out.”

The man did as he was told, his face pale as he quickly exited the room, closing the door behind him. Your grip on Natasha’s knees tightened, your knuckles white as you fought to keep silent.

“You see,” Natasha continued, her voice a low growl. “I expect absolute obedience. No talking back, no excuses.”

Natasha’s breath hitched slightly, but she maintained her composure, her eyes never leaving those of her subordinates.

“And the truce?” Natasha continued, her voice betraying nothing of the sensations she was experiencing. “Make it clear that any breach will be met with swift and severe consequences.”

One of the lieutenants dared to glance under the table, curiosity getting the better of him. Natasha caught the movement and her eyes snapped to his. “You.” she barked, pointing a finger at him. “Out. Now.”

The man paled, scrambling to his feet. “Y-Yes, Miss Romanoff.” he stammered, hurrying from the room. Natasha’s eyes followed him until the door closed behind him, then she returned her attention to the others. “Anyone else being distracted?”

Her men shook their heads, clearly intimidated. Natasha’s reputation for ruthless efficiency was well-earned, and none of them wished to test her patience.

As the meeting wrapped up, Natasha gave one final command. “Keep me informed of any changes. Dismissed.”

Her men filed out of the room, each offering a respectful nod as they left. Once the door closed behind them, Natasha’s facade of icy control slipped slightly. She looked down at you, her eyes dark with desire. “Good girl,” she murmured, her voice a low purr. “Finish.”

Your movements became more fervent, driven by Natasha’s praise. The mob boss leaned back in her chair, allowing herself to fully enjoy the sensations. Her control over you was absolute, extending from the boardroom to the bedroom, and everywhere in between.

As Natasha reached the peak of her pleasure, her grip on your hair tightened momentarily before releasing. She leaned forward, breathing heavily, her eyes softening as she looked at the woman beneath her.

“Look at me,” Natasha commanded gently. You obeyed, lifting your gaze to meet Natasha’s. “Come here.” Natasha instructed, her voice soft yet authoritative.

You rose to your feet, your legs unsteady. Natasha stood as well, pulling you into her lap for a brief, tender moment.

“You did well,” Natasha said softly, her lips brushing against your ear. “But remember, your debt is far from paid.”

“Yes, Miss Romanoff.” you replied, your voice a mixture of submission and affection. Natasha’s smile was predatory yet tender as she held you close. “Now, leave my office.” She commanded.

As you turned to go, Natasha’s hand came down in a sharp smack on your ass, a final reminder of who held the power. You gasped, a flush spreading across your cheeks as you left the room.

And it had been like this for several months. You owed Natasha a lot of money but could never pay it on time. Until you begged her to forgive your debts and you would do anything to make it happen. Natasha didn't have to think about it for a second and since then you have been her personal toy. She was feeling bad? You were there. Her coffee was too cold? She took it out on you.

One day had been a disaster from start to finish. Natasha’s meetings with the criminal elite had gone awry, with deals falling through and alliances crumbling. Her temper was on a knife-edge as she stormed back into her office, slamming the door behind her. She needed an outlet, and she needed it now.

She grabbed her phone and sent a single, commanding message: “My Office. Now.”

You arrived quickly, your heart racing as you stepped inside. The tension in the air was palpable, and you knew tonight would be different. “Miss Romanoff?”

Natasha’s eyes were dark with anger as she stalked towards you. “Strip.” she ordered, her voice a dangerous growl.

Your hands shook as you hurried to obey, quickly discarding your clothes. Natasha wasted no time, grabbing you roughly by the arm and dragging you to her table.

“Bend over.” Natasha commanded, her voice sharp and unyielding. You complied, your body trembling with a mix of fear and anticipation. Natasha’s presence behind you was overwhelming, her anger radiating off her in waves.

“Do you have any idea how infuriating it is to deal with incompetent idiots all day?” Natasha spat, her hands gripping your hips tightly. “To have every single plan fall apart because of their stupidity?”

As she let the meeting enter her mind again, Natasha pulled something out of her drawer and you heard her strapping something on.

“Answer me.” Natasha barked, her hand coming down in a sharp slap on your backside. “No, Miss Romanoff..” You gasped, the pain mixing with an unexpected rush of arousal.

“That’s right,” Natasha hissed, positioning herself behind you. “You can’t possibly understand the level of frustration I have to deal with.”

With that, Natasha entered you roughly with her fake cock, her movements harsh and punishing. You cried out, unable to suppress the sound as Natasha set a brutal pace.

“That’s it,” Natasha growled, her grip tightening. “Scream for me.” Your cries filled the room, your body responding despite the roughness. The more you screamed, the more aroused Natasha seemed to become.

“Do you know how much I love hearing you like this?” Natasha murmured, her voice dripping with dark satisfaction. “It kinda makes me feel alive.”

“Please..” You whimpered, your body responding despite the roughness. “It’s too—oh my god!”

“Don’t hold back..” Natasha commanded, her voice a low growl. “I want to hear every sound you make.” You cried out, your voice filled with both pain and pleasure. “Oh, please!”

Natasha’s pace increased, her movements becoming even more forceful as she fed off your reactions. “You’re mine.” Natasha snarled, her breath hot against your ear. “And you will take everything I give you.”

“Y-Yes, Miss Roma..noff..” you sobbed, your body shaking with the effort to hold on.

Natasha’s grip tightened further as she reached around and pulled your arms behind your back, holding them firmly. The new position allowed Natasha to thrust even deeper, each powerful movement driving you further into the bed. “Stay still,” Natasha ordered, her voice harsh. “I don’t want you moving an inch.”

“I can’t,” you gasped, your body at Natasha’s mercy. “It’s too deep!”

“Good.” Natasha growled, her voice filled with dark pleasure. “P-Please..”you begged, your voice breaking. “I can’t hold it!”

“Then come.” Natasha commanded, and your body obeyed, the release overwhelming and intense. But Natasha wasn’t done. “Again.” she ordered, her voice leaving no room for refusal. “And this time, scream for me.”

“F-Fuck!!” you cried out, your body trembling with exhaustion and pleasure. “Please, it’s too much!” Natasha brought you to the edge and over again, her control unwavering. Each climax was a release of Natasha’s pent-up frustration, her anger dissolving with each wave of pleasure.

When it was over, Natasha leaned back, her breathing heavy. She looked down at you, who lay panting on the table, your body marked by the roughness of their encounter.

“Get dressed.“ Natasha ordered, her voice softer but no less commanding. “And remember, you are mine to use as I see fit.”

“Y-Yes, Miss Romanoff, thank you..” you replied, your voice steady despite the exhaustion. You dressed quickly, your body aching but your heart full. You knew you would be summoned again, and you would be ready, as always, to pay your debt in whatever way Natasha demanded.

[heartfullofleeches]

Titus [Space Emperor Yan] and former Assassin Cat-Hybrid Darling. (Just a blurbo for now but I love these two now so I'd love to come back to this)

When the pair met, Darling thought Titus was no different from the rest of their targets. A self proclaimed god untouchable by those below him. Little did they know that their employers were basically setting them up on a suicide mention as the tyrant is a damn near immortal deity. As they perch atop his bed - knife planted in his chest, Darling counts their cards as a large hand locks around their wrist; pulling the blade out as one night remove a splinter. There was nowhere for them to run. The element of surprise had been swept from under their feet. They struggle and claw at the man, but there is no give to his iron grasp. As their brain draws to any conclusion a trapped animal may have, the knife in their hands is tossed across the room before they can take the final plunge.

The Emperor should have his little intruder punished. Waking a kind from his beauty rest is a serious offense. A crime in which the accused receives no trial and punished to the highest degree. Their eyelids removed so they never experience another second of slumber before their execution. There is also the more "amusing" route of electrocution or burning everytime they attempt to shut their eyes. Darling surely would have been subjected to this fate if they weren't so... So...

Precious~

Did this adorable little feline really think they could kill a god so easily? They insult him, but fortunately for them, they're cute enough for him to let it slide. The poor thing could use a bath though... And those scars.... When was the last time they had a proper meal? Oh, and those rags!

Titus scoops up the feisty kitty and thrusts them into the hands of his guards while he sorts through his closet for something to throw on until he can get them measured. Darling attempts to flee any chance they are alone, but with Titus promising to have the heads of everyone in the palace if they escaped - they never got far. Once they had some food in them and fully realized Titus wasn't bluffing when he called his home their new place of resident - Darling came up with a plan to lure Titus into false security and learn his witness to take him down when he least expected it. The only flaw in their plan was they underestimate their own commitment to the role as day by day their acceptance of the tyrant's obsession became less of an act.

They no longer had to work for their meals. Everything they could ever deserve was thrust placed right in their hands if they snuggled up to their new master or swished their tail just right in Union with those big adorable eyes. Their word stood above all in his counsel. They were waited on hand and foot by everyone under Titus' rulevIt was paradise. Their former comrades and the person they once were would be disgusted by what they've become, but if the former ever came to drag them back to their old ways they were swiftly cut down without so much as a passing glance from the royal that once stood beside them.

Titus is ever so glad he managed to bag that angry stray and turn them into the sweetest lil dear anyone has ever seen. He nearly loses his composure everytime he catches them lazying around in his robes - cloth barely clinging to their smaller figure. He knows they only do it to make sure he never says no to him, but there's hardly anything he would deny them beside their freedom. Whatever their heart longs for is a small prize to pay for their company. The Emperor is absolutely whipped for his little bedmate and would do anything to keep them collared at his side.

-

Assassin: You used to be something.... You could have lived a life similar to this without sacrificing your freedom if you had just taken his head. You are but a shell of the person I once knew. I despise you.

Cat Hybrid Reader: Hm... What you say might be true, but there's still something this life grants me that makes it all worth it

[Reader tears their shirt and knees on the floor closer to the cell as they shout]

Cat Hybrid Reader: Titus! Help!

Titus, storming down the dungeon stairwell: Oh, my precious angel. [Picks up Reader and checks them over for injuries] Don't worry, my love. I will have these awful, awful person executed at once. I'll have a necklace made from their ashes, but for now - will a massage and treats make do for leaving you all alone?

Cat Hybrid Reader, wiping fake tears from their eyes: yes....

[hihomeghere]

One Bed : Five Hargreeves / F!Reader

Part of the Tesoro Series (Can be read as a one shot)

Word Count : 3.7K Summary : After a failed mission with the commission, both you and Five find a hotel to rest in. The only problem is, you'll have to share a bed. Aged up!Five. ( I do not own the umbrella academy or any of it's characters ) Warnings : Smut, cursing, mentions of headaches

“Damn It!” You groaned, leaning on your knees, your chest heaved. You changed back into yourself. Happy to be back in your body instead of a very hairy man with a limp. Your head pounded, you should have been more careful. After barely getting any sleep last night you should have known better than to push your abilities. You coughed, spitting bile out onto the pavement in front of you. A crackle of blue light appeared next to you before Five flew out of the portal. He was equally out of breath.

“Where did they go?” He turned to you, throwing his hands up.

“I don’t know,” you spit glaring at him, your emotions running high, “he disappeared.” You waved in front of you. Your lungs screamed, drinking in oxygen in deep breaths, letting your lungs inflate to their limit before breathing out again. 

“Disappeared?” He yelled, whipping his head to look at you. His hair falling out of his neat side part. He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a strangled scream.

“Where were you huh?” You hissed, narrowing your eyes “You could have blinked after him if you were here!” He glared at you, his face scrunched into a sour expression.

“God you are unbelievable!” He groaned, clenching his fists. His hands glowed blue before fizzling out, “I pushed myself too hard, I barely made it back to you!” You huffed rolling your eyes. Fighting would get you nowhere, Five loved arguing. When there was a fire lit in him he was an eternal flame, furning for days on end. Once you had stolen his favorite coffee mug, for no other reason than he had said something to piss you off. That was a week of hell you never wanted to relive.

“Look,” you took a breath, “we’re both tired, let’s just go find a hotel and get some rest.” You put your hands up in defeat.

He clenched his jaw, the muscle tightening. He huffed looking around.

“Fine, but you’ll follow my plan tomorrow, got it?” He pointed a finger at you. You didn’t know if it was his age, but the way he would scold you like a child drove you insane. 

“Fine.” You said through gritted teeth. “Shall we?” You asked motioning to your parked car. He moved past you, hitting your shoulder as he went. You sighed following him, hurt blooming in your chest. You hung your head as you walk to the car.

He stopped, turning back to look at you. You didn’t have the best poker face, not with him at least. You looked down at the ground, refusing to meet his eyes. He bit his lip, guilt washing over him in waves. 

Five had always been in agreement with himself, being alone in the apocalypse there was no room for second guessing. It was live or die every second of every day. When a simple infection from a paper cut could have as easily killed him as a broken bone, Five was always thinking ten steps ahead. Even after the commission picked him up his survival instincts hadn’t fully gone away. Whether he was in the field or not, his primal instincts still had him making decisions quickly and with no room for reflection. This was his way of life, learning layouts of offices, the nearest escape routes. Until you barged into his life.

With you, Five was constantly second guessing his actions. Normally he wouldn’t have given a shit if he was abrasive, cold or unfriendly. He didn’t come to make friends, he came to save the world. He had a job to do, and more importantly a plan. To get back to his family and stop the apocalypse. You were never a part of that plan. He had already calculated his steps when you came in throwing in three more steps to an already difficult dance. Sashaying your way into his life and heart. 

He walked in front of you, cursing himself as he opened up the door of the 1977 Isuzu Gemini SL Coupe. He gave you a small smile as you got in. He closed the door behind you before walking to the driver side and getting in. 

You drove in silence, leaning your head on the window. It throbbed from having to change into so many people. You rubbed your temple, praying for a shower and a warm bed.

Five’s hands gripped the wheel, he was spent. His body ached and the cramp in his shoulder was getting worse as he drove. The stress probably wasn’t helping. He stole glances at you every once and awhile. The only thing illuminating your face was the street lights as he passed under them. 

He sighed under his breath, he shouldn’t have snapped at you. And it’s not like he was mad at you, he was mad at himself. He had let the guy get away, he had been worried about your safety. He had lost you at the beginning of the warehouse. The whole time he had been jumping around looking for you instead of the target. He knew he had made a mistake, using his powers for his personal gain instead of the mission. If the handler only knew, he would never be assigned with you again. Good thing she didn’t. As much as he tried to deny it he had started to enjoy working with you. You helped him maintain his humanity, like Delores had. You two were very similar, both kind, selfless, always thinking ahead. He admired your ability to stay true to your heart, even in your line of business.

He pulled off into a parking lot. Passing the glowing red sign that blinked vacancy. He rolled into a parking spot, putting the car in park. You both sat in silence, you sighed looking into the hotel lobby.

“I-“ Five started before cutting himself off, you raised your head looking at him. He stared straight ahead, his hand lazily draped on the wheel. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled, his gaze dropped to his lap.

“It’s ok.” You said touching his arm, “We’re both tired and overworked.” You looked over at him, your head throbbed. You shut your eyes covering them with your hand.

“Is it your head?” He asked, looking over at you. You nodded tears pricking in your eyes, “Hey, let’s get inside.” He said squeezing your shoulder. You nodded, wiping away tears that slipped past your eyelashes. Five opened the door, stepping out of the car. You followed him into the hotel lobby, the bell ringing as Five opened the door. 

You winced, sitting down on a leather chair. The fake leather had started to crack, you mindlessly picked at the flakes. The orange carpet under your shoes had multiple stains, you wrinkled your nose in disgust. 

Five walked up to the counter, his hand hovered over the bell before he looked back at you. He put his hand back into his pocket and leaned on the counter.

“Hello?” He said looking around. An older man walked out, he had a full unkempt mustache. Frizzy hair to his jaw, his tall body squeezed into a tweed suit. “One room please.” He said handing him twenty bucks. The man nodded, plucking a key off the wall behind him. He handed it to him, Five turned the red pass over in his hands. He walked back over to you, your head in your hands. His heart squeezed in his chest, he needed to get you to bed. He gently shook your shoulder. “Come on,” he said, helping you to your feet. You gripped his bicep, leaning on him. Any sense of pride had left your body when your headache started. He led you to your room, putting the key in the hole. He had to jiggle it slightly before the lock gave out.

Fives face fell as he took in the room. Only one bed. 

“Damn it.” He muttered, shaking his head, you walked over to the bed. Sinking down onto it as you reached down to untie your shoes. “I’ll sleep on the floor.” He said matter of factly, sighing.

“Five.” He looked into your tired eyes. “We’re both adults, just take the other side of the bed.” You shrugged off your suit jacket, pushing yourself off the bed. You pulled out a hanger and hung your suit jacket up. You unzipped your pants, Five felt heat creep up his neck. You had undressed in front of him before, why did this bother him so much? You unbutton your blouse, hanging it up as well. God, your head hurts. It was no longer throbbing, but pounding. 

“I’m gonna go take a shower.” You mumbled walking to the bathroom. 

Five sat down on the edge of the bed. He untied his shoes, setting them down next to the bedside table. He listened to the shower turn on, your soft voice humming as the rings of the shower curtain scraped across the metal bar. Five swallowed, his mind started to wander. He imagined you washing your body. The suds over your breasts, letting out a sigh of relief as the hot water washed over you. He felt his dick jump in his pants. He pictured your hands traveling lower down your body, over your soft stomach, reaching between your legs. His dick was standing at attention now. He had a good couple minutes before you would be out. He reached down, rubbing himself through his pants. He could only imagine your hands instead of his, your hot breath fanning over his neck, lips, ear. He leaned back, letting his back hit the bed. He tugged at his belt, undoing the buckle. He unbuttoned his pants pulling them down with his underwear. His dick, no longer confined to his pants, sprung free onto his stomach. He spit into his hand, lubricating his dick. He ran his palm over the tip, once, twice, before he noticed the water had turned off. He quickly pulled his pants back up, buttoning them. He stood up walking over to the window, pulling back the thin green curtain. Trying to act as nonchalant as possible. 

You opened the door. Your hair still slightly damp, you had a fluffy robe wrapped around your body. He turned slightly to look at you. You smiled at him, the windows low light illuminating him perfectly. He was reminiscent of a painting of an angel, the hotel sign acting as holy rays behind him. He stood tall, his arms crossed over his broad chest. 

“All yours.” You sighed happily, throwing yourself onto the shitty mattress. The box spring whined as your body hit it. He nodded before taking a couple steps to the bathroom. 

You laid back, combing through your hair with your fingers. You slipped under the covers, the throbbing in your head was now only a slight ache. You heard the water turn on, and shut off after a few minutes. Five opened the door, a towel hung low on his waist. Your eyes traveled down his body, for his toned chest to his firm stomach. You took in all his scars, one above his belly button, it looked like an old knife wound. Your eyes traveled further to his v, a small patch of hair leading from his chest to his hips. You looked away, a blush creeping onto your cheeks. He was drying his hair with a towel so thankfully he didn’t see you ogling him. He walked over to the bed, pulling the covers back. He sank down, the bed dipping with his weight. He laid back, his arm brushing against yours. Electricity flew up your arm.

“Night.” You said softly, he hummed in response. You rolled over, away from him. Looking out the window, listening to his breathing.

-

When you woke up, it was still dark. The sun hadn’t come up but the sky was turning more of a light blue. You felt Five’s warm arm wrapped around your waist, and Five’s breath fanning across your neck. His hand was splayed out over your stomach, holding you tightly against him. You sighed contently, enjoying the closeness to the man you had come to develop feelings for. Although any pure thoughts disappeared when he rolled his hips against your ass. A low groan left his throat, which seemed to shoot directly to your core. 

You froze, you could feel his erection pressing against you. Experimentally you rolled your hips back into his, he moaned nuzzling your neck.

The angel on your shoulder yelled in your ear to wake him up. You savored the feeling, trying to memorize exactly how he felt against you, saving the memory for a later time when you were alone in your apartment, before you nudged him slightly.

“Hmmm?” He mumbled into your ear.

“Five, wake up.” You said nudging him again. He jolted up, taking in the situation. 

“Oh god,” he said, pulling away from you, his voice gravely from sleep. “Jesus, I didn’t mean, if I’ve made you uncomfortable in any way I-“ he groaned, running a hand over his face.

“Five. It’s ok,” You said, pulling his hand away. Looking at him in the low light, he was breathless, a light layer of perspiration on his body. Your mouth watered as you took him in. “If you wanted to, I wouldn't be opposed…” you trailed off your eyes locking onto his face. He froze, his lips slightly parted. He tilted his head, his brows furrowing. He stared down at his hands, deep in thought. “I don’t want to pressure you into doing anything.” He said softly, you smiled. For a man who was always so self-assured, he seemed so unsure of himself.

“I’m offering. This is just to get some relief, no strings attached.” You said biting your lip, you untied your robe. Letting it fall around your body. Now having no protection from the cold night air, you felt your nipples harden. Five’s eyes raked over your body, you felt yourself grow hot under his gaze. He stared at you like you were a cool glass of water in the apocalypse. 

Five was sure he had been murdered in his sleep. There was no possible reality where you were all but throwing yourself at him. All Five wanted to do was ruin you and make you his. Make you crave him as much as he craved you. He couldn’t remember the last time he had even had sex, possibly in his early days at the commission, but only to get his dick wet. He didn’t care about those girls, now you on the other hand were something special. And you were naked, in his bed. 

“Right, no strings attached.” He repeated back to you. His fingers twitched and you could feel his hesitation. You grabbed one of his hands, squeezing it gently. You brought his hand up to your breast, he let out a shaky breath, his eyes finding yours for confirmation. You leaned forward to nibble his neck, kissing over the bites. He shivered his body tensing, you grinned your breath fanning over his jaw. He pinched one of your nipples, smirking as you gasped. He ducked his head, his mouth covering your other nipple, his tongue flicking the bud. Your hand tugged on his hair, he sighed around your breast.

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” He groaned, you chuckled looking up at him through your eyelashes. His erection was now painfully stretching against his underwear, you grabbed him through his boxers. He let out a pained noise, like he was being stabbed instead of pleasured. He was puddy in your hands, ready to be shaped anyway you wished. He pushed you back against the bed. In a sudden shift in dominance, his lips found your neck, kissing and nipping slightly. You bucked against his body, your nipples rubbing slightly against his bare chest. His hands mapped a path down your body, like he was trying to memorize it. Unbeknownst to you he was. His fingers found your clit, testing the waters. You gasped, your hand finding its way into his hair. You pulled at his scalp slightly, earning a low groan from him. He slipped one finger inside you, curling it as he thrusted it inside you. You moaned softly, any pain from your headache was now long gone. He added a second finger, his eyes never leaving your face. You couldn’t decide whether you wanted to cower under his gaze or beg for more. Your skin was ablaze, Five’s touch was electric, his incredibly eager fingers thrusting and curling inside you. You gripped the sheets, pleasure building in your stomach. That familiar coil tightening inside of you. 

He pulled his fingers out of you, bringing them up to his lips, sucking them clean. “Shit, you’re sweet.” He hummed, swiping the head of his dick down your folds, lubricating himself with your slick. You both shuddered as his velvety soft tip found your entrance.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked softly, his other hand rubbing light circles on your thigh. You hadn’t expected him to be so doting, tales circulated around the commission of the absolute animal Five was in bed. But as his green eyes peered into yours, you could put those rumors to rest. You felt entirely bare, like he was peeling back the layers of your soul. The alarm bells had been ringing in your ears, this man was a killer. He was a survivor, stepping on anyone he had to, to get to where he was. He was a mercenary, follower of no moral code, but if he was all of these things why did he hold you like you were made of glass?

“Yes.” You said, propping yourself up on your elbows. He lowered his gaze pushing the head of his cock in slowly. You both let out a moan, he hissed, baring his teeth.

“Christ you’re tight.” He sighed his eyes squeezing close. His hands gripped your hips, his nails dug in leaving crescent shaped marks. Although you couldn’t seem to care, you had never felt so full in your life. Your hands gripped his thighs for dear life, a strangled cry left your throat as he thrust all the way in, knocking the breath out of your lungs. He stilled, a blissed out smile on his lips. You wiggled your hips, trying to get any stimulation from him.

“Fuck me.” You whined, grabbing his face, forcing you to look at him. His eyes widened before a devilishly handsome smile split his face.

“Yes ma’am.” He started a slow rhythm, his dick spearing you every time he thrusted into you. Long, hard strokes. His cock rubbed at the spongy part inside of you and you mewled. “You like that, sweetheart?” He teased a mischievous glint in his eye, you couldn’t help but nod, stroking his ego along with his cock. He took the lead titling your hips up, throwing one of your legs over his shoulders. You needed him closer. Gripping at any part of him you could get your hands on, your nails raking down his back. He moaned, breathy and high pitched. Your breath was stolen out of your chest as he quickened his pace, going deeper than before. 

“Oh fuck, Five.” You groaned holding onto his shoulders, your tits bouncing.

“You’re gripping me so good tesoro.” He grimaced, his eyes fluttering close. He let out a strangled cry against your leg. Biting down harshly before kissing your calf. You yelped fingernails digging into his thighs.

“I’m close, I’m so close.” You babbled tears slipping down your cheeks, every part of you was screaming out in pleasure. This spurred him on, one of his hands traveled between the two of you rubbing tight circles on your clit. You swore you saw stars, your toes curled and you couldn’t help the high pitched whine that ripped its way out of your throat. He leaned forward, his body looming over yours. His arms effectively trapping you underneath him. Working you through your orgasm as he grinded his hips against you, using your leg as leverage. 

“I’m not gonna last.” He mumbled his forehead resting against yours, wincing slightly. You grinned, reveling in the fact that you had such an effect on him.

“Cum then.” You said before sucking a deep purple mark on his neck. You felt his breath catch in his throat against your lips.

“S-shit.” He thrusted hard into you, “you’re so fucking perfect,” He moaned his hips stuttering as he came. “Oh god I love you.” You froze, he loved you? He stopped, pulling out almost immediately. “I don’t know why I said that.” He recoiled, putting as much distance as he could between the two of you. He grabbed his discarded towel, covering himself with it as he stumbled off the bed. You pulled the sheet up, covering your breasts.

“Five it’s fine,” you said sitting up.

“No. It’s not.” He growled, the sudden shift in his demeanor made you recoil. You pulled the sheet tighter around your body, suddenly all too aware of your nudity. “This never should have happened.” He motioned between the two of you.

“It’s just sex. It’s not like you meant it!” You justified, your voice higher than you intended.

He stopped, the outline of his body harsh against the street lamp outside. His head turned slightly, allowing you to see only part of his face. You could see him mentally building his walls back up, brick and mortar in his eyes.

“Five, it’s not like you meant it.” You said it more as a question than a statement, hating the slight waver in your voice. His body tensed as he sucked in a breath, he raised his shoulders.

“No. I must have been thinking of someone else.” He said coolly. Ouch. The air was sucked out of the room as he stormed into the bathroom. Slamming the door behind him. Your heart broke in your chest, slicing up your insides. You swallowed thickly, your mind struggling to keep up with Five’s constant whiplash. One minute he’s taking you to the gates of heaven only to taunt you as he drags you back to hell. 

This was all your fault, you put your head in your hands. You shouldn’t have suggested anything and just lived with the constant sexual tension.

No strings attached your ass.

part two here

[talesofsonicasura]

To Save A DogDay

I couldn't help but write this after seeing the constant dedication of saving the giant toy doggo. So here's something to assist you guys in the effort. I've done some research(even though Google was being an ass) and took a look at this particular post by @dafloof

First off, DogDay is surprisingly big despite being cut in half. If I have to compare his size then think of those giant plushies you win from a theme park or carnival game. Thus the only possible carry for the average person to safely escort him is bridal or hanging off like a koala on the side due to the grab pack. He might be able to shrink himself to a more manageable size if DogDay is similar to CatNap in body structure.

Although that doesn't mean the task is impossible outside of adrenaline. DogDay may be big you got to think about his possible weight. Bigger Bodies are still toys with the Smiling Critters being plushies. How much of him is stuffing and not organs?

The necessary body parts for him to still be alive are the lungs, heart, brain, stomach, and some sort of skeletal structure. Here's a weight chart for the average human. (Although these might be smaller if harvested back as a child than an adult.)

Stomach: 2-4 pounds/lbs

Brain- 2.5 pounds/lbs

Heart- 0.25 pounds/lbs

Lungs- 1.8 pounds/lbs

Human Skeleton- 15-25 pounds/lbs

Average weight here 21.05 - 31.05 lbs. His arm bones might be reinforced similar to the Prototype but they still wouldn't be that heavy. For carrying in your arms, 35- 55 lbs is what the the untrained person can hold. Body weight contributes to how much someone can carry with a 139 lbs untrained woman being able to deadlift around 74 lbs. For men it is 125 lbs for 148 lbs.

Adrenaline can help contribute to this as there have been feats done by people in dangerous situations. One example being a human mother fighting off a polar bear to protect her kids or someone moving a car by themselves to get free. We can do insane things when it comes to survival.

There's also the mental side to this. Our brains actually diminish the perception of how strong we are by 40%. If you carry something you love or cherish like a person, then they can weigh less just from that viewpoint. Sometimes thinking like the Little Engine That Could will make a difference.

Now I am not forgetting the dangerous little critters. There are ways to deal with them and have enough time to bring DogDay along. In his cell, there are two ports they can crawl out of. Blocking these whether by flares or stuffing them with nearby items can do the trick.

Second is bribery. We aren't restricted to the environment like in the game and throughout the facility there are intact vending machines. The toys obviously need to eat but seem unable get into the machines. YOU CAN.

Break the glass and stockpile as much snacks as possible. Finding bags or boxes to carry them wouldn't be hard. Offer these to the little Critters in exchange for DogDay. You can open one bag for further incentive as the chance to get a special treat is something no one will be able to resist.

DogDay might be able to drag himself so breaking the chains with the Grab Pack or a different tool is possible. They are probably rusty thus easier to break. It will obviously hurt for DogDay to drag his body so stealing something like a cushion from CatNap's hideyhole could ease the pain.

Should that not be the case then other options are available. Considering Playcare is a fun house, you might be able to find scooterboards or a platform cart to carry him. If not then a makeshift sled to pull DogDay about is the next best move.

Now there's actually another escape route. A duck ride that you couldn't access in the game due to bugs. I think Mob was planning for a chase down there as it is fully fleshed out with puzzles and an environment.

DogDay can hold onto the boat while you solve the puzzles to get out. For those who hadn't chosen bribery then flares will keep pursuing Little Critters away. Maybe set a fire as you escape since there's plenty of items to make a molotov cocktail if crafty enough.

I suggest finding some walkie talkies as someone needs to look after DogDay. The area under the statue can be a possible safe spot but being able to contact Kissy Missy and Poppy will better the chances of his recovery than just survival. Both know the factory's inner works enough to remain hidden so they might know where to find supplies. A possible ally with valuable info can sway them to help.

There is also the option of coming back to Playcare. DogDay might still be alive as you can hear his muffled cries during the chase. He might be worse for wear due to the little menaces piloting him like a bootleg Megazord. Walkie talkies can help you page Kissy Missy to help with escorting the Bigger Body safely.

It is possible to save DogDay if you are smart or crafty enough to use the environment. The factory offers a lot of potential options to help with that. Do know that you can turn a simple water gun into a flamethrower.

Why follow the rules of the game when there are ways to break them?

[reiderwriter]

Margaritas and Mistakes

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Genre: Fluff, suggestive, smut coming in the next part (it's already written it just felt best to post them separately lmao).

Warnings: Suggestive language, dirty talk, some heavy petting and mention of sexual arousal. 18+ MINORS DNI

Summary: On a group night out, you get a little more drunk than you want to, and when Spencer shows up looking like the love of your life and not just your coworker, you realise that the margarita’s are having more of an effect than they should be.

A/N: Welcome back, it's my week off currently so I've been writing a copious amount of smut, so please enjoy this 3.6k word build up to more smut coming soon. Requests are still open, and you can find my masterlist here!

PART TWO!

You truly made all of your worst decisions when under the influence of alcohol. You blamed it on the fact that you really didn’t get the chance to go out all that often now that you were a full time member of the BAU Team. But the job was sometimes rewarding, and considering you’d been working on consultations all week and not a full time case, you were really looking forward to stretching your legs this friday night and getting some much needed relaxation in before you had to stare evil in the eye one more time.

“Girls’ Night Out! No male detectives, partners, Special Supervisory Agents, Unit Chiefs, OR Doctors!” Penelope cheered as you arrived at her apartment that night prior to your eventful outing.

“God I needed this,” Emily sighed, taking a sip of her drink. “I can’t remember the last time I got to kick back with a glass of chardonnay.”

“You sent me a picture of your drink two days ago, and it didn’t exactly look like water,” JJ laughed.

“Ah you see, my dear JJ, that wasn’t kicking back. That was therapy.”

“Honestly, though, it’s going to be good to get out of the house. I swear, the only places I’ve been for the last month have been my apartment and work,” you sigh, downing the last of the drink Penelope had handed you on the way in.

“What happened to that guy you were seeing, Y/N? Was he that bad?”

“Don’t even mention it. He took me back to his place and he didn’t even have a mattress on the floor, wanted us to do it on his couch,” you groan. “The couch that was also housing all of his laundry. And I’m not positive it was even clean laundry.”

You really had been having the absolute worst luck with men recently; other than your aforementioned tinder date, the only men who had shown any interest in you being serial killers who wanted to murder you and married cops looking to fool around with an FBI agent. Not the most auspicious of dating pools.

“Okay, operation get Y/N laid is a go. Ladies, your jobs tonight, should you choose to accept it, is to become the best wing-women this town has ever seen!” Penelope joked, and you found yourself giggling at just the idea, thankful that they were taking the time to try to cheer you up.

“Oh I’m all in. I’m warning you now, Y/N, my wing-woman success rate is pretty high. I’ve helped multiple couples achieve not only orgasm, but also marriage and kids.” Emily boasted.

“Emily, next time you might want to think about the wording of that one,” JJ laughed. “But I’m in too, you could use a little unwinding.”

“Not you too, JJ. You were supposed to be our voice of reason tonight.” You giggle into your cup, feeling the effect of your starter alcohol already.

“Nope. We’re having no responsible adults in our midst tonight. That’s why I’ve already arranged for our favourite Doctor to come and pick us up when the last of us falls tonight. He’s at a screening of some Indie Russian flick until 2am which is probably about perfect for our plans.”

This is the first you’ve heard of Penelope’s plans, but you’re not against it. With a solid escape route, you can let loose as much as you want tonight and know that all of your friends are fully able to have as much fun as possible tonight.

“Well, that’s the plan for us, sweetcheeks. Maybe you’ll get lucky.” Penelope winked at you with a nefariously innocent look on her face. And suddenly you weren’t quite as sure you trusted her…

–X–

After your first margarita at the bar you were still feeling fine. Sure, you were talking a lot louder than you usually did, and if you saw yourself in the mirror you’d probably start giggling instantly at the stupid, semi-permanent grin on your face, but you were feeling so relaxed that it was of no consequence.

You’d moved swiftly from Penelope’s apartment to the nearest downtown bar. It looked pretty seedy to you, and the lighting was so low you could barely make out the faces of your friends in their seats at the same table as you, but you were sure some of that was just the alcohol blurring your vision.

Your hearing though was still in top shape, which was why when Penelope asked her next question, you almost spit the drink out of your mouth, rushing to laugh.

“Okay, fuck, marry, kill, Hotch, Morgan, Reid.” She giggled as she posed the question to her teammates.

“Oh come on now, that’s not fair.” Emily laughed at the question posed.

“You’re right, I don’t know a woman alive that doesn’t want a ride on my chocolate thunder.” Penelope let out a faux dreamy sigh and took another swig of her drink.

“And marrying Reid just seems wrong. He’s like our brother at this point.” JJ points out, just shuddering at the thought.

“So we’re all in agreement? Fuck Morgan, marry Hotch and lovingly bury Reid six foot under?” Emily laughs and the other two nod.

“Nope,” is all you manage to get out before going for another large gulp of your drink.

“Well, well, well, Y/N what would you be doing differently?” Emily snaps her head around to look at you, eager for the juicy details.

“None of you are curious what the doctor is packing?” You reply, almost innocently, unaware of the many plots culminating in the minds of your friends at that very second.

“Not at all. “Nope.” “That’s pretty gross, actually.” They all seem to reply at once, but Penelope pushes another drink into your hand as soon as you’re done and gets ready to launch a counter-attack.

“Are you curious about it?” She leaves it at that, and if you weren’t so drunk, you’d have seen them all lean into you, desperate for your answer and ready to hang off of your every word. "Do you think about you and him… You know?"

“Every night,” you sigh dreamily. And you’re telling the truth. In the recent months, you’d found yourself waking up a little hot and bothered after some rather steamy midnight encounters with the Good Doctor. You’d become close to him over the few months you’d worked with him as a member of the team, but it wasn’t like you’d had a crush on him or anything. It was more like your body had an unconscious appreciation of his body. Or at least for certain parts of his body.

“His fingers are really nice, you know. And they’re big, too. Just makes a girl curious, s’all.” You down the proffered drink, hiding your remaining shame behind the glass.

“No, no, no babycakes, we’re gonna need more details than that if you’re gonna claim that you want to fuck Reid more than Morgan.” Penelope insisted, more forceful now than before.

“And what exactly does every night mean, Y/N? Something you should be telling us?” JJ wiggled her eyebrows at you and you lost it for a few seconds having a giggling fit.

“Okay, okay, it’s just… You’ve seen how he looks, right? And there was that one case three weeks back. He confronted that accomplice, and when he was about to bolt he slammed him against the wall and held him there like he’d barely broken a sweat. And you know how it is, we see Morgan kicking down doors on the daily, so I thought I wouldn’t be that interested in feats of physical strength, but my only thought in that moment was that I’d rather like him to slam…me…against that …wall.” You slowed down your speech at the end, looking up to see what looked to you like the grinning faces of three wolves staring down at their prey.

“And now I need another drink, anyone up for another round?” You squeaked out, changing the topic before any of the others could make their own comments.

–X–

Your second round of margarita’s was probably where things went irreversibly wrong for you. You’d returned to the table with two rounds of shots for all, having queued up four songs on the ancient jukebox you’d seen in the corner, hoping to entice the girls away from conversation, and it had worked.

After you’d bought the first two rounds, JJ had bought you another, and then Emily had splurged on another three, and then Garcia had rounded the hour out with one more shot, this time with sparklers attached.

So by the time you got back to your table and took a much needed swig of a drink that didn’t have to go down all at once, you were feeling well past drunk, to say the least.

But with the free-flowing alcohol came the lack of inhibition, so you really didn’t care. True to their word, the girls had been doing their best to convince you to dance with some of the guys in the bar since you’d gotten up, but truthfully none of them had enticed you.

But now, the night was running out, and the alcohol had you a bit hot and bothered, so when you felt a nice, hard body press up gently against yours, you decided to take advantage of the situation. Without looking back, you wrapped your hand around the one of his that had grazed your hips and held in there, moving your hips back and forth and beginning to grind back into your mystery man.

He was a little bit still at first, but eventually began making some slow movements along with you, and you could see the others cheering for you from a distance, Emily especially whooping from her perch at the bar.

You felt the voice lean down to your ear after a minute or so, and you tilted your neck up to hear the tall man a little better.

“What are you doing, Y/N?” He whispered against your skin, still letting him guide you through the music. Had you been sober, you’d have realised the voice was more than familiar, especially since he’d said your name, but you were not, and so you did not.

“Well, if you’re lucky, tonight I’ll be doing you?” you giggled back, looking up at the man quickly. But with the hazy lights of the bar and the copious amount of alcohol you’ve ingested, you don’t catch a good enough glimpse of the man to realise he’s your coworker.

“I think you’ve had enough to drink,” he says, when you start to pull him towards the bar, his grip on your hips tightening, accidentally pressing you back into what you expect to be his semi-erect cock, straining against your clothing.

“Oh, what, wanna take me home right now? That’s okay with me, mister.” You giggle, grinding back into him more intentionally this time. You grip his hand and try to force it up to touch more of you, utterly carefree about throwing yourself on what you presume to be a stranger in the middle of a bar.

Before you manage to, however, he lets out a frustrated groan and turns you around by your hips, forcing you to look him in the eye for a little bit longer, and all of your senses finally start working once again.

“Yes, Y/N, we’re going now. Penelope called me 15 minutes ago and said you were ready for that ride home and I can see now that she was right,” Reid leant down so you could hear him enough, but your brain was short circuiting.

You’d been grinding on your coworker. The one that had been the cause of so much of your sexual frustration for the past god knows how long. Spencer was right in front of you, and he hadn’t loosened his grip on you that much. Spencer was right in front of you and his erection was poking into you.

Really, your following actions shouldn’t be held against you in the slightest given the situation.

“Are you going to take me home, Doctor? Lay me down in bed and get me nice and comfortable?” you giggled up at the man, now enjoying the way your insinuations were making him blush.

“Y/N, you’re not being fair. We need to get the others and go,” he shot back, irritation dripping from his tone.

“Oh I’m sorry, am I being a bad girl?”

“You’re certainly being very difficult- what are you doing?” He jolted as you moved your hands to his fair, beginning to play with the curls at the nape of his neck.

“It’s softer than I imagined it would be,” you giggled again, pressing yourself forward to press a kiss against his neck.

“Okay, we need to get you home,” he panicked, grabbing both of your hands, pressing them against your sides, spinning you around and walking you back towards the other girls.

“Hello Spencer~” the girls all giggled as you approached. You struggled against his grip a little, but he kept you firmly in place, man-handling you slightly, and you practically melted into his touch.

“Who let Y/N drink this much? Don’t answer that, you’ve all been drinking the same amount, right?” He left out a frustrated breath, and ran one hand through his hair. You attempted to move again, but he’d practically pinned you to the table. Your hips were pressed into the edge of it, his hips pressed against you, forcing you up against the table in a way that should have been uncomfortable. His other hand was resting near your discarded glass, caging you in almost entirely.

“Cars out front, lets go,” he said, his jaw twitching with anger now.

“No need, lover boy, taxis are coming to pick myself, Penelope and JJ up as we speak,” Emily slurred the words, but got the idea across well enough. “You’ll just be needing to take this little kitten home and you’re done for the night.”

They were all giggling now, as you let out a childlike yay, your excitement evident on your face.

“We’ll wait and see you all off together at least, so outside now. She needs some fresh air or something,” he was practically talking to a wall at that point, but after a few repetitions, the women acquiesced and moved outside.

“Ooh, that’s my taxi, gotta go,” Garcia practically runs from you the moment you step outside, and you wave at her whilst wrapped around one of Reid’s arms, stumbling with each step.

“Use protection my sweet babies,” she shouts as she slams the car door just as her car drives away, leaving a spluttering Spencer unable to respond that he’s not touching you tonight while you’re in this state.

The taxis for Emily and JJ arrive swiftly as well, and the two soon depart with similar messages and soon you find yourself alone with Spencer once again.

“So, your place or mine,” you smirk, looking up at him and batting your eyelashes in the sweetest way you can manage.

“You’re drunk, Y/N, you don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Drunk I may be, Doctor, but I absolutely know what I’m saying. I’m saying I want you to shove me against a wall and finger fuck me until I don’t know how to walk anymore.”

“Goddamnit, Y/N, someone’s gonna hear you.”

“Oh you want me to be quiet? If you take my panties off and push them into my mouth maybe you could shut me up for a few minutes.”

“Get in the car, now.” You stick your tongue out at him, but hop into the passenger seat. He slams the door in your face and takes a few deep breaths before moving around and getting in himself.

–X–

Despite having the window open the entire car journey, hoping that the fresh air will do you some good, you’re still on top form when Spencer pulls up to your apartment.

“I didn’t even give you my address,” you pouted, as you tried, unsuccessfully, to remove your seatbelt.

“I memorised your file, now let’s get you into bed,” he unclasps it for you, and you use the close proximity to drop a kiss on his cheek.

“Only if you get into bed with me, hot stuff,” you wink at him and make for the door. “You know, you’re going to remember everything I said in the morning, right?” You asked him.

“Unfortunately, yes,” he muttered under his breath as he caught you just as you were about to teeter into the hedge on the shared green space. You wrapped your arms around his neck for the second time that night and stopped him in his tracks. Looking deep into his eyes, you took one of your hands and traced it gently over the side of his face and down his neck, your eyes following your fingers. He gulped involuntarily when you hit his adams apple, and you snapped your eyes back to him.

“Chances are that I’m probably not going to remember any of this, right?” You smiled up at him.

“Alcohol induced memory blackouts tend to occur in binge-drinkers whose alcohol levels have hit at least 0.16%, and further studies show that 50% of adults will experience some kind of alcohol-related memory loss in their lives, so yes, I’d say you’re probably not going to remember any of this.” He shot back, almost entirely still in anticipation of your next move.

“Good, then I might as well enjoy the moment while it lasts right.” As soon as the words were out of your mouth, your lips crashed into his, and after a beat, his reciprocated, moving over yours just as hungrily. He moved now, walking you back to your door, lips still locked in a ferocious battle for dominance, until he pinched your arm slightly. You gasped a little, ready to pull back and complain about the pain, but suddenly his tongue was in your mouth and you were back at it all over again. He tapped your legs, signalling that he wanted you to jump into his arms, and you did, wrapping your legs around his centre tightly as he finished making his way to your apartment door.

Pulling away for the briefest of moments, he pulled your keys from your back pocket, and made quick work of your door.

“Bedroom, now Spencer, please I need you,” you whimpered in his arms, pressing kisses against his jaw and neck. Unfortunately, he had other ideas.

“No. We are going to the bathroom, where you’re going to wash your makeup off, brush your teeth and change your clothes, and then you are going to get in bed and sleep.” He unceremoniously dropped you at the door of your bathroom, and you slid to the ground.

Pouting up at him, you felt the tears well in your eyes.

“No! I don’t want to go to bed yet,” you sounded like a petulant child and Spencer cursed a little under his breath when he looked down at you.

“Y/N listen to me very clearly, you’re not thinking straight. You’re way past the legal limit, you can’t consent to any of this and I’m not going to sleep with you and then have you forget it in twelve hours.” His tone was harsh, but you listened to him.

Picking yourself up off the floor, you followed his instructions and got yourself ready for bed.

“Okay, I’m all done now, Doctor,” you grumbled once you were done. You half expected him to have left you there, choosing to retreat whilst you cleaned yourself up, knowing that he’d already done what was asked of him by getting you home. But he was still there perched on your bed, and you made one last attempt to get what you wanted.

As he made his way to stand up, you used the last of your strength to push him back down again and climbed into his lap. This time though, you made no attempt to take anything further, just wrapping your arms and legs around him and burrowing into his shoulder. You had to admit, you were getting particularly sleepy now.

You let out a small yawn and burrowed further into his neck just as he opened his mouth.

“Y/N, please, what are you doing?” He sounded tired now, but didn’t attempt to push you off again.

“You said I was probably not going to remember this in the morning. That’s not going to fly with me. So you’re gonna sleep here with me and tell me everything I forgot in the morning.” You informed him.

He scoffed at you, but you could hear the smile in his voice when he replied.

“So you want me to just sleep here next to you? No pushing you against a wall? No panties in your mouth?”

“Nope. Like you said, ‘s getting pretty late and it’s been a long week, so it's probably for the best if we…” You tried to finish but your tongue was so heavy in your mouth that you just couldn’t use it anymore. You felt the warm rumble of his answering laugh of disbelief as he manoeuvred the two of you under the covers, taking the time to kick off his shoes and remove his coat and shirt.

“Sleep well, Y/N, because when you wake up I’m going to make you feel all of the torment you’ve put me through tonight tenfold.”

And he held you there against his chest as both of you fell deeper and deeper into your slumber.

PART TWO

[haine-kleine]

dunno if I should call this a headcanon or a theory and I know Horikoshi just went with what looked cool but the more I think about Dabi's initial design when he came to the League in the context of what we learned about him and what we saw happen to him during the second war, the less sense it makes that his body was already in that state.

according to the anime, he was learning by watching Endeavor's videos online. before Sekoto, he wasn't learning from any source at all and went about his training intuitively, but after Sekoto I strongly doubt he would be actively practicing his quirk, for a multitude of reasons. his body was still healing from the skin transplantation, the trauma associated with accidentally burning himself to death, plainly not having a place to train a fire quirk, which tend to be flashy and to use your quirk in public, having a provisional license is required, otherwise he risks getting arrested. he did a very good job staying out of the public's eye for the 7 years since he escaped AFO, who was also implied to be unaware of Touya surviving for so long.

so as far as we know, all he did for those 7 years is lay low and be very online. which makes his remark to Spinner hilarious ngl, at least Spinner sprung up to action as soon as he saw something that had inspired him, while Dabi had spent 7 whole years sitting on his very personal trauma and not going to therapy.

when Giran brings him to Shigaraki, he doesn't share any information about Dabi save for him being very invested in Stain's ideology. no criminal records, maybe, but not even a word of his absurdly strong quirk? no mentions of arson at all? they did discuss Toga making it to the news, so Dabi being left out like that was a bit weird in the context of the conversation, like him seeking out Stain's contacts was enough reason to let him join the League. he won't be useful to you, Shigaraki, but he's got the spirit. please take him in, he has nowhere else to go?

if you really look at the way Dabi uses his quirk until MVA, it's noticeable how he seems to have no idea what he is doing. there's no technique, no finesse to his moves, just throwing out huge blasts of fire with his hands and hoping for the threat to leave him alone.

when Shigaraki attacked him (fully provoked) his reaction was too slow to summon any flames at all, and if it weren't for Kurogiri, that would have been it for Dabi.

When he is fighting Geten and starts going beyond his limit, he scares himself with the increased fire output. because, yup, overusing his quirk by accident was the source of his trauma.

the databook puts his technique as the weakest of his stats. his power is huge and eventually allowed him to become the strongest fire quirk user in the BNHA universe, but his technique was extremely lacking.

all of the above just doesn't paint the picture of someone who has been consistently mastering his quirk for 7 years. rather, it gives the picture of someone who had just started using his quirk for the first time in years, having background training from his childhood.

it's not even that Dabi isn't hardworking as hell or doesn't have the potential to be trained, because he's a complete opposite. continuously going beyond his limit, despite his own body getting in his way, mastering Enji and Shouto's complicated techniques they have worked for weeks/months/years on in a matter of minutes after just observing it. surely, he has been watching Enji and learning the way his father uses his quirk for years, but putting theory to practice? i doubt he even had the chance, before joining LOV.

he had to wait, because starting to actively use his quirk sets the clock into motion, counting down the time he has left. he is like a candle, destroying himself with his fire, until nothing is left at all. he had to make sure his plan of revenge will have a chance to succeed before fully committing to the 'Dabi' route, a slow and agonizing process of cremating himself by continuously using his quirk. because when he really starts using his quirk for long stretches of time? this is what happens to him.

to conclude this post, I know why the final design was chosen (because it's cool as fuck) but after analyzing the crucial points of Touya's story and his relationship with his quirk, I really think him joining the League with post-coma design would have made more sense. once he had started really using his quirk, his body would slowly degrade to the state Dabi's was in, because his fire literally melts his skin. but his body already having 40% surface third degree burns, when he didn't even use his quirk the entire time, perfectly holding up up until the first war arc and then quickly starting to burn down? idk, seems a bit inconsistent?..

anyway, i love the concept of Dabi's skin slowly and inevitably burning down after he had joined the League. him losing more and more skin until there's barely anything left, when he reveals himself to his father and is bitter at the lack of recognition, because burning himself to the point of being unrecognizable was one of the many sacrifices he had made to be finally seen by Endeavor.

also, more of this. because this was bittersweet as hell

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

The Arcana HCs: M6 get kidnapped and tortured

~ an overdue sequel to MC gets kidnapped and tortured. CW for mentions of being restrained (in the scary way), having injuries, broken body parts, and trauma processing. enjoy! - brainrot ~

You'll never forgive yourself for how easy it was to lose your beloved.

It was just after breakfast - an unusually slow one, morning light spilling across the emptied dishes, a contented, carefree smile dancing from your lover's eyes to their lips and back again. They had stood slowly, bent to press a chaste kiss to your cheek, and stepped out to check briefly for wherever their familiar had disappeared to.

And then they didn't come back, and you didn't think to look for them until it was far, far too late.

The next time you saw them, it was in the back corner of a windowless cell, bound with their arms behind them to a wooden pillar, clothes tattered and bloodied and head slumped with the brokenness that can only come from despair and abandonment.

Julian

Apparently he's been surviving the last several weeks by dreaming of you, because he doesn't believe it's really you at first

He meets you with a dazed, faraway smile, barely wincing at the way it pulls at the bloodied bruise on his cheek. His good eye is bloodshot, and both retain an undercurrent of despair

His voice is hoarse and cracked from disuse when he invites you further in and apologizes for the poor space, telling you that you look as stunning as ever and wishing for the dream to last a while

Reality doesn't come crashing in on him until you're close enough to touch him. That's not possible for a figment of his imagination

He goes from tired condolences, asking you not to worry and to sit with him instead until you fade away, to staring up at you in shock and disbelief. It's you - it's you -

Does this mean it's finally over??

Doesn't say much beyond a stream of babbled "thank you"s and "I missed you"s and "are you sure this is real"s as you lead him out

Already knows the nature of his own injuries (he was, unfortunately, conscious and fully aware when they were made) and ends up talking you through how to treat and bandage them

Gets absolutely slammed with guilt in the following days as all the trauma and pain catches up with him and he watches you suffering in turn on his behalf. Thankfully, you're able to kiss it out of him

Tries to joke about liking pain anyways and can't do it, not for this

Asra

Their head snapped up as soon as they heard a new set of footsteps coming towards their cell, and they were already praying it wasn't you. You weren't ready for the look of horror when it was

He's already hoarsely begging as soon as you're in view. Get out of here. Run. It's too dangerous. He can't protect you here. Go -

Has a hard time believing you when you tell them that it's okay and that you're here to get them out. You can see them shaking their head in denial even as you kneel in front of them to free their hands

It's his hands that do you in. Apparently in an effort to keep him from trying any magic, his kidnappers have mangled them beyond recognition or functioning and you can't stand to look at them

As soon as they're free, they're scrambling to get both of you out. They were already putting together their own escape plan and have some scarily accurate guesses for effective escape routes

The look of terrified desperation doesn't leave his face until you're both out and you can prove that you won't be followed

They don't want to talk about it. They don't. want. to talk about it

He'll have to, eventually, as the waves of gratitude stop covering for his frustration at how slowly movement is returning to his hands and how often he has nightmares of his kidnappers taking you

They hate the discomfort of the process, but they're learning the sweetness of letting you take care of them for once

Won't sleep easy until he's magicked away all of the scarring

Nadia

You don't manage to say much when you make eye contact with her because the look in her eyes is leaving you breathless

You don't know what was done to her, you don't know what state she was in before you got here, but all you see in her eyes now is fire. If you're here, her courage and determination are boundless

Already pulling herself up against the wall and asking you to catch her up on the situation as you're removing her restraints

Are her captors aware you're here? How many have you fought? The big one, with the club - did you get him? Who else is with you? What's the plan? Give her your shoulder so she can walk with you

She runs on adrenaline and determination until you make it back home. She's reciting all the information she has and making strategic suggestions to ensure the group is wiped out completely

And then, when you make it home, she's collapsing

The following days show you a side of her you've only had glimpses of in the past. Her pride refuses to let anyone else near her, but

But you. You can stay. .... please stay

With her body broken and her mind haunted, all she wants is to be convinced of her support. She doesn't want to do this alone, all she wants is to lie down and know that it'll be okay for a bit

You begin to worry for a moment that she almost becomes too dependent, refusing to eat or sleep unless you're next to her

She comes out of it eventually, though she hates tight sleeves now

Muriel

You didn't know what to expect when you saw him, but it wasn't the deep shame that made it nearly impossible for him to meet your eyes. You don't know where this guilt came from

His first question is if you're in danger. As soon as you tell him it's all taken care of, he doesn't make another sound

Not a question about how you found him, not a grumble of discomfort or a grunt of pain, not even a sigh of relief as you undo the multitude of ropes tied so tight he could barely breathe before

He can barely stand to be touched by you as you brush his matted hair out of his eyes and take his hand to lead him out

He keeps stumbling. It's clear his captors were afraid of his strength, and had gone out of their way to damage his muscles and tendons and restrain him too tightly for the smallest motions

It's not until you're back in the hut and bandaging his wounds, with the door locked and Inanna at his side, that he's able to speak

He blames himself. He should have been aware of them when they came for him. He should have fought them off. He's been hunted for his strength his whole life, and suddenly, he didn't have it

It's your quiet testimony that he's allowed to be weak and still be precious that undoes him. With all the barriers out of the way, he doesn't have the energy to stop himself from being needy

Greedy, even, finally asking for hugs and snuggles and painkillers and second servings from dinner, and shocked when you say "yes"

Portia

You only catch a glimpse of the wavering hope on her face before she realizes it's you and her head falls back in sheer relief

You're here. You're here. Finally, you're here. She knew she could hold on another day, she knew there would be an end, she knew she could trust you not to give up on her, she knew you'd find her

And here you are. Her faith in you has paid off, and she's beyond happy to see you. She's pressing kisses to whatever part of you she can reach before you've even removed her restraints

When you do, she's all breathless, relieved, tearful giggles, and hugs as tight as she can manage with injured and bloodless arms

Her legs are broken, but that's okay, she'll just ride piggyback while she watches behind you for any pursuers. You've got this!

Never in your life have you been so grateful for a partner as relentlessly optimistic and resilient as she is. Even as the treatment of her painful wounds makes her wince and hiss, she's smiling

Of course, she can't act as though it never happened. She wishes she could, but the nightmares and the fatigue and the shooting pains and the crutches by her bedside suggest otherwise

Late night conversations venture to new confessions. How afraid she was. How out of control she felt. The lonely moments in her cell when her faith in you faltered and she wondered if this was it

It's hard to sit through her descriptions of what happened, of what was done to her, but you knowing it too brings you ever closer

Lucio

He'd like to say that he put on a brave face, but as soon as he saw you and knew he wasn't alone anymore he crumpled completely

He missed you. He missed you. He thought it would never end. He never wants to do this again, never, ever, ever, don't worry about the damn restraints, just kiss him and tell him it's okay, please

There's tears tracking through layers of grime and crusted blood and faint trails of his eyeliner - has he really not been able to clean himself in weeks? - and he's muffling his sobs into your shoulder

You keep wanting to tell him to hold still, the knots and locks are tricky to undo with the intense shaking through his body, but every pained cry wracking his frame is loaded with relief

When you finally get him freed, he's looping his arm around your neck and falling against you until you hold him

Hold him tight, hold him despite what a mess he is, hold him without worrying about his blood getting onto your clothes, hold him even if it hurts him, hold him so you can soothe his soul

And then get him out. He's clearly severely injured and in plenty of physical pain (which he will loudly make known to you once you're both safe) but he'll run limping next to you without complaint

It's a long time before he can bring himself to lift a blade or put the armored pieces on his gauntlet again. He still brags about his skills, but the way the light glints along the sharp metal makes him wince

Can't fall asleep by himself for a long, long time

[patriwoso]

overprotective

leah williamson x mary earps x reader

Leah had always been a protective sister, whether it was in your football career, during school and evening your relationships.

"Got another girlfriend yet then, y/n?" Georgia teased.

Leah scoffs. "Of course she hasn't, not after last time."

You stayed quiet, sat on Leah's bed with her in hers and Georgia's hotel room, your head rested on her shoulder.

Keira found eye contact with you and knew there was something you were holding back, she knew you almost as long as your own sister did.

During your last relationship, Leah had managed to scare the other girl off after finding you both asleep in your room, in the apartment you shared. You didn't understand the fuss, you were both fully clothed?

Leah had control over you throughout your childhood, now she doesn't like to see you grow up, but it's like she doesn't want to see you happy.

"I'm gonna go bed, too tired." You smiled softly, hugging your sister goodbye and smiling towards Keira and Georgia.

"See you in the morning y/n/n. Breakfast is at 7:30." Leah tells you as you head to the door.

Instead of heading to your own room, shared with Chloe, you head 4 doors down. Room 819.

You knocked quietly, not wanting to wake anyone up who may possibly be asleep already.

"Mary? It's me!" You whisper shout, hoping she'll hear you.

The door lock clicks and opens, your girlfriend stood in her training kit still.

"Why haven't you gotten changed, training finished hours ago!?" You giggle, stepping into her room and kissing her softly. "Hmm" You hum. "And you still smell."

"Nice to see you too babygirl." She teases. "Are you okay?" She watches as you get under the covers of her bed, pulling her blanket over you.

You nod. "Yeh, tired. And I want cuddles but not with you smelling like that so go and shower please." You smile cheekily, watching your girlfriend strip from her training gear and heading into the bathroom.

You unlock her phone and start playing a game you made her download, trying to beat her high school, a way to pass the time.

"What are you doing?" You look up and see Mary looking at you. You smile brightly and show her the phone screen, the game on display. She chuckles.

When Mary returns to bed, you snuggle yourself closer into her, scared to loose her the way you lost your last partner. The comfort was too much, you fell asleep and the world left you at peace.

Until it was the next morning and your both awoken to a hammering on the door.

“MARY!”

“Fuck that’s Leah.” You curse, scrambling to hide in the bathroom for the door to be answered.

“Hi?” Mary smiled, slightly confused to the frantic banging on the door.

“Breakfast started 20 minutes ago. You must’ve slept through your alarm. Y/N isn’t there either. Any ideas where she might be?” You sister questioned.

“No? No. Not sure, sorry Leah. I’ll be down in 10 though.” She forces a smile and shuts the door in Leah’s face.

“That shouldn’t have happened. You should’ve gone back last night.” Mary sighs.

“I know and I’m sorry! I just fell asleep.” You sighed. “I’ll see you down at breakfast.”

You didn’t plan your escape route well, opening the door and leaving Mary’s room to find Leah stood in the hall way, staring at her phone which obviously distracted her from heading back down herself.

“What the fuck? Why are you in there Y/N/N?” She raises an eyebrow slightly. “Mary said she hadn’t seen y- No..”

“Leah, let me explain…” You pleaded with her, grabbing her arm to stop her leaving. “You can’t keep controlling what I do!” You snapped.

“Dating a teammate? Is this what is happening. You should know better .” She pulled her arm from your grasp and walked away from you.

-

Leah was angry, too angry. She was always overprotective of you but this was unusually harsh from her. She refused to speak to you unless absolutely necessary for the last couple of days before you flew to Belgium for the Nations League game.

You started the match, played you best and scored twice in the first half. Both times looking over to Leah as the team celebrated with you. Nothing.

Halftime was nearing and you had one last corner to try to defend before heading in. You marked up their attacking midfielder on the back post. The ball came in and you headed it away, the Belgium players going for the ball too and landing on you, pushing you in to the post of the net and sending your clattering to the floor.

You lay stomach down with you head in your hands.

“Y/N! Are you okay??” Mary rushed to your side, her hand on your back gently as you lay still.

“Fuck” Leah crouched down besides you, dropping the grudge she had against you both and took charge as captain, but mostly big sister.

You lifted you head up to look at her, blood dribbling down your face. You spat out a mixture of spit and blood into the grass below you and with the help of your sister you sat up, catching the dripping blood in your hand.

It was quite the nasty look you had, bleeding after bleeding that wouldn’t stop.

It was only when you passed out that everyone took it a little more seriously.

When you woke up in the medical room, Leah had your hand in hers.

“You gave us a fright there.” She chuckled softly, kissing your forehead gently to avoid the cut.

You looked away, closing your eyes to stop tears forming.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I shouldn’t have treated you like that. I want you to know though, it isn’t because I am mad… I was just frustrated that you didn’t tell me.” She admits quietly.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, squeezing her hand to let her know you aren’t mad.

“Can I ask how long?”

“3 months.” You finally make eye contact and see the small smile on her face.

She nods. “I’m happy for you.”

[21-krplnk]

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐈𝐌.

Dick Grayson x Spider-Man Reader

AKA; one of my favorite tropes ever.

CONTAINS !!! masculine reader (only cuz they go by Spider-Man, but I kept gender/pronouns vague), LGBT reader (also kept vague), mentions of stitches, the slightest hint of bisexual Dick, could be translated as a platonic or a pre-slash relationship, and they were roommates.

“Uh… hey.”

Pausing mid-stitch, Dick looked up at his doorway to see you standing there, your hands shoved into the pockets of your jacket. There was the slightest worried quirk to your brows, your mouth formed into a thin line, and your eyes constantly glanced down the hall like you were planning an escape route. It didn’t take his natural intuition to tell you were troubled by something. Hell, maybe even anxious.

“Hey,” he softly returned, his suturing needle still motionless in his hand. He made sure he was fully facing you, giving you all of his undivided attention as he added, “what’s up?”

“… I… uh.” You gingerly pulled a hand from your pocket to scratch your neck. “I was wondering if you had some time to… talk?”

Talk? Trying not to show his concern, he gave a reassuring smile and scooted over on his bed. “Yeah, sure, of course.” His gaze was back down on his partly stitched-up arm. “Lemme just finish up real quick. You can come in.”

As he quickly got to work with closing up the wound, he could see from the corner of his eye that you hesitated for a moment. Something was clearly weighing on your mind, and the clearer your distress was, the more suspicious he became on what this talk was going to be about. He had a pretty sure guess; relief washed over his conscious just thinking about it. This wasn’t going to be a serious talk. Well, it was, but not in a bad way. Rather, he was at least 99.99% sure it was a seriously good thing. Something to celebrate, even.

You were finally coming out to him.

Admittedly, he’s had his suspicions for a while. He’s known you for a while, enough to trust you with his secret as Nightwing, so he’s picked up on the subtleties you’ve left for him, whether you were aware of it at the time or not. But it was all just speculation until you moved in as his roommate, where he could basically observe you under a microscope 24/7. And when you suddenly became more withdrawn from him, he was vehemently convinced he was right.

Now, despite being pretty sure he’s known before you even knew, he never asked you outright. It’d make him feel terrible if you felt pressured to come out of the closet before you were ready, so he gladly gave you all the time you needed to tell him directly. And of course this didn’t go without dropping subtle hints that he loves you and supports you through all your endeavors.

The bed dipped as you finally sat down on it, just in time for him to tie off his stitch. “So,” he began, trying to keep the knowingness out of his tone, “what did you wanna talk about?”

You didn’t say answer immediately. Rather, you took to staring at his bedroom carpet for a few moments, presumably getting your thoughts organized. “I… need to tell you something.”

Oh, he’s definitely right about this. “Okay…?”

Another moment of silence happened between you two. “… I’ve been keeping this secret for… for a while. And I thought you’d be mad at first, cuz I never told you, cuz I-I was kinda scared, and… well…” you softly shook your head, like you were shaking away an oncoming tangent. “Well, I guess I realized… that… I shouldn’t have been. I shouldn’t have been scared.”

He couldn’t help but put a comforting hand on your shoulder. “(Y/N)…”

“Promise me things won’t change,” you softly pleaded. It was then you finally looked up at him with an apprehension. “Promise things won’t be… different… between us… please?”

“I promise,” Dick confirmed, voice dripping with pure sincerity and encouragement. “(Y/N), things would never be different between us. Not because of something like this. I care for you. And I always will.”

There were several seconds where you scanned his face, trying to find an inkling of a lie. After realizing he was being serious, you took a deep, shuddery breath. “Dick…”

He then watched as you brought a shaky hand up to the zipper of your jacket.

… Woah, woah, woah, wait a minute.

Before he could even process what you could possibly be doing, you pulled open your now unzipped jacket and turned to face him. All he could do was stare dumbly at your scrunched-up grimace as you finally dropped the bombshell.

“… I’m Spider-Man.”

… Huh?

Slowly, his eyes braved the trip downwards to your chest, only to be met by an all-too infamous spider symbol. Oh… Spider-Man. You’re Spider-Man. This was not the coming-out talk he was expecting. At all. Any coherent thought he previously had was thrown out the window in favor of processing… this. You’ve been Spider-Man this entire time and he had no fucking clue? What the hell? How did he just… not pick up on this? Was this why you became so withdrawn? You felt like you had to hide this secret from him of all people? Your own vigilante roommate?

… Ironically, these were probably the same questions he’d have if you actually were coming out to him… in a world where he didn’t already figure it out, anyway.

“… Oh,” was all he could say. He owlishly blinked at the insignia on your chest before looking back up at you. “Wow. Uh… okay. Holy shit, uh…” he ran a hand through his hair, trying to recompose himself. He had this whole spiel prepared about how he more than happily accepts you for who you are, but it became quite apparent he has to make some adjustments on the fly. “You’re Spider-Man. Cool. I… I had no idea.”

You cracked an eye open, cautiously gaging his reaction. “You’re not… mad?”

“Well, I… can’t say I’m not shocked.” He sent a quick glance at the spider symbol. “I mean… I kinda pride myself on my detective skills, so… I guess I’m a little thrown off for not suspecting anything.” His jaw tightened a bit. “You really went above and beyond to hide this from me.”

“I-I know it’s kinda stupid, but… I mean…” you rubbed the back of your neck. “I don’t know, I thought you’d be mad that I didn’t come to you initially after the spider bite.”

He could only stare at you with a blank expression. “A spider bit you?”

“Uh… long story.”

“… Well, then.” He laid back on his bed, resting his hands behind his head as he stared at his ceiling. “Spider-Man’s my roommate. That’s cool. Uh… lotta questions, but I still gotta, y’know, process this.” He turned his attention back on them. “And not because I’m mad or anything. I just… was picturing a whole different conversation when you asked to talk.”

While you seemed to visibly relax at how he was taking this, you also cocked your head to the side in a quizzical matter. “What do you mean?”

“Hope I’m not making any horribly off-base presumptions,” (even though he was certain he was 100% right,) “but I actually thought you finally coming out to me.”

Now it was your turn to be thrown for a loop. After taking in what he said, you turned to face the wall with a simple, “oh” spilling from your mouth. “Guess it was only a matter of time before you figured me out, huh.”

“Hey, I know a thing or two because I’ve seen a thing or two,” he lightly joked.

You looked at him curiously, but didn’t pry, instead shucking off your jacket to fully expose the top half of your suit. “And yet…” you offered him a humored smirk, “you didn’t figure out I was Spider-Man? How does that make sense?”

“I have no frickin’ idea,” he exasperatedly groaned. “So, you mean to say you’ve been sneaking out to do your little spider thing this entire time? Right under my nose?”

“Kinda helps when you sneak out and do your little bat thing,” you countered with a sheepish shrug.

“And speaking of which,” he hoisted himself up into a sitting position, pointer finger jabbing accusingly at you, “we are so patrolling together tomorrow. I wanna see all your neat tricks up close. Got it?”

A warm chuckle bubbles from your chest. “Aye aye, Mr. Nightwing sir.” You even saluted him to sell your tiny quip. “Same time? 6:30?”

“If that works for you, itsy-bitsy.” After giving out his own chuckle, he quirked a brow at you. “But… I gotta know.”

“Yeah?”

“Where do… like… your webs come from?”

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

9: ONE

Chapter 8 <MASTERLIST > Chapter 10

SUMMARY: You run away with the Winter Soldier, a man who has recently discovered his identity and is in search of his truth.

Word Count: 3.8k

Warning: SMUT: Mutual hand job, Fugitive situation — If there is any more you find not listed here please be sure to let me know so I can add it.

Your heart was pounding, the blood rushing through your ears so loudly that you could barely hear anything he was saying. There was a feeling bubbling up inside you, a potent mix of excitement, fear, and anticipation that threatened to consume you whole. Your breath came hard and fast as these turbulent emotions threatened to overwhelm you, your chest rising and falling rapidly. But through it all, your hand remained firmly in his, a grounding anchor amidst the storm raging within. 

The darkness had fallen early where the clandestine facility was situated, far removed from the trappings of real civilization. The dismal weather offered convenient camouflage, the overcast skies and biting wind masking your presence as you scanned the area, searching the shadows for any sign of your soldat. Just as the feeling of dread began to creep in, his hand suddenly clamped over your mouth, muffling the surprised yelp that escaped your lips at his abrupt appearance behind you. In that moment, time seemed to stand still as the world narrowed to just the two of you, hidden away from prying eyes in the enveloping darkness. The adrenaline coursing through your veins was nearly overwhelming, but his steady presence grounded you, reminding you why you had risked so much to be here, in this precarious but electrifying moment.

“Shhh, Kotyonok. No noises.”

His voice was a deep, authoritative whisper, the harshness of his tone at odds with the gentleness of his touch against your mouth. He held you firmly, his body a solid presence pressed against your back, his hand a warning against any further sounds. His breath was warm against your ear as he spoke again. "Follow me.”

You followed him, your feet stumbling occasionally over the uneven snow-covered ground. The world around you was a blur, the snowflakes dancing in your vision like swirling stars. His hand was a strong, guiding presence, pulling you along without pause or hesitation. He moved with purpose, his steps swift and sure, leading you down alleyways and side streets, always keeping to the shadows, avoiding the dim pools of light cast by the street lamps.

As you moved, your mind was racing, desperately trying to come up with an escape plan. But there had been no time, no opportunity to discuss anything of the sort. You were both acting on instinct alone, following Soldat's lead blindly, trusting him to keep both of you safe. You could sense his tension in the rigidity of his body, the way his grip on your hand tightened every time you stumbled or slowed. He was on high alert, his senses sharp, his eyes constantly scanning the shadows for any hint of danger. 

Soldat's mind was a maelstrom of thoughts and calculations. He had a plan, but it was not one he had been able to fully think through. It was more instinct than strategy, more desperate gamble than foolproof escape. He had spent precious minutes scouting the area before coming for you, searching for the most efficient route out of the town and into the vast expanse of wilderness beyond. It was a dangerous venture, one fraught with risks and uncertainties.

"Where’re we going?" You whispered.

Soldat paused for a moment, pulling you into a small alleyway between two buildings. The shadows concealed you well, the only light coming from a single, dim street lamp at the end of the alley. He turned to face you, his eyes meeting yours in the darkness. "Somewhere safe," he replied, his voice a rough whisper. "Somewhere they won't find us.”

"Where, Milyy?"

Soldat's heart clenched at your question. He wished he had a better answer, a definite destination he could name. But he didn't. All he had was a rough plan, one that relied heavily on luck and the element of surprise. He sighed deeply, leaning against the cold brick wall behind him. His eyes flicked downwards, avoiding your gaze for a moment.

"We're going east. Towards the river. There's a farmhouse there. It's isolated and remote. We should be able to lie low for a while.”

Soldat gently pulled you along once again, his hand still firmly around yours. He moved carefully, silently through the shadows, his footsteps making almost no sound against the snow. You followed him, your footsteps slow and faltering. The snow was starting to fall more heavily now, making the ground slippery and treacherous, but Soldat seemed unfazed, his stride never faltering as he made his way towards the river.

Soldat felt you stumble, his grip on your hand tightening as he slowed his pace momentarily, allowing you to catch up. He kept his gaze straight ahead, his expression unreadable in the shadows. He knew you were struggling to keep up with him, your steps slower and more labored, but he couldn't afford to slow down. Every minute counted, and he could feel the urgency of the situation like a weight on his shoulders.

“Sorry, Kotyonok.”

He could see the tiredness in your eyes, the trembling of your body as you struggled to keep up with him. It tugged at his heart, but there was no time to rest, no time to stop and catch your breath. He glanced back at you, your face barely visible in the darkness. His voice was a mere whisper, a soft, ragged edge to it.

"We're almost there," he reassured you. "Just a little further.”

Just when you thought you couldn't go any further, Soldat pointed out something in the distance. You followed the direction of his gaze, your eyes struggling to make out anything in the falling snow and fading light. For a moment, you saw nothing, just the endless expanse of white snow and shadowy trees. But then, faintly, you saw a silhouette flickering in the moonlit distance.

Soldat nodded, his grip on your hand tightening momentarily. "That's it," he said. "The farmhouse. We're almost there.”

Soldat helped you settle by the fireplace, wrapping the blankets tight around you as you shivered slightly. Lighting a fire was out of the question. Even the smallest flicker of light in the window could give away your location and alert your pursuers to your location. The farmhouse was small but cozy, the shelter and isolation offering a much-needed respite from the bitter cold outside.

He pulled you closer to him, the blanket wrapped tightly around both of you as you sought each other's warmth. His flesh arm was wrapped around your shoulders, his body a solid presence against yours. He was silent for a moment, his body was tense, his senses on high alert as he listened for any signs of danger outside. You watched him listening to the quiet stillness of the house and the faint sound of the falling snow outside.

He tensed for a moment at your touch, his body instinctively responding to any contact. But then he relaxed, his muscles unfurling under your hand. He looked at you, his gaze soft and tender in the dim light.

"Sorry," you whispered.

He shook his head slightly, his gaze locked on yours."Don't be sorry," he whispered back. “Your touch... it grounds me. It helps.” He placed his metal hand over yours, covering it with his own. The cool metal contrasted against the warmth of your skin. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, a silent reassurance.

"Do you hear anything?”

Soldat tilted his head slightly, his senses straining to pick up any sound in the stillness of the farmhouse. His ears were tuned to the slightest noise, his body taut and ready for action at a moment's notice. He shook his head slightly after a minute. "No," he said softly. "Nothing. Just the sound of the snow outside. We're safe... for now, at least.”

You were both silent, contemplating your choices, the decision you had made to flee from HYDRA.

"Tell me again," he asked, suddenly. Soldat's voice was quiet, but there was an intensity behind his words. His eyes flicked to your face, searching your expression in the low light.

You looked at him in confusion for a moment, trying to grasp his meaning. And then you understood. He wanted to hear it again, to remember the words that had started this journey. You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts before speaking softly. "You’re James Bucky Barnes," you said, pronouncing each syllable carefully. "Not the Winter Soldier. You’re more than what they made you. You’re free.”

“You’re from Brooklyn, New York. You were born in 1917, on March 10th. Your best friend is Steve Rogers, Captain America. You fought in the second world war, in the 107th unit but you were part of a special team called the Howling Commandos.”

Soldat - Bucky - was silent as you spoke, his eyes fixed on your face as you recited his history. He drank in your words, processing each one with an intensity that was almost physical. With every name you mentioned - Steve Rogers, the Howling Commandos - the memories stirred deep within him, faint at first but growing stronger with each passing moment.

He sat frozen, his breath coming in short, sharp puffs. The words were like a lifeline, pulling him back from the darkness of his past, reminding him who he truly was. His eyes never left yours as you spoke, his expression intense, as if he was trying to hold onto every syllable, to commit each word to memory. With every new detail, his expression shifted, recognition and realization slowly washing over his face. His eyes widened slightly, his expression almost pained, as if the memories were both a revelation and a torment.

"Buc-ee..."

His voice was rough, the syllables coming out slowly as if his mouth was unaccustomed to forming the words. He repeated it again, the nickname rolling off his tongue with an effort. The foreign sound of it was unfamiliar and yet, somehow, it felt right. He repeated it, his voice rough and ragged.

"Bucky," he repeated, his lips forming around the syllables. He looked at you then, his eyes searching for confirmation, for reassurance that he had said it correctly. He fell silent for a moment, his gaze distant as he seemed to lose himself in his thoughts. But then he blinked, his eyes clearing and sharpening once again as he focused on you.

“Why?” he asked.

You tilted your head slightly, not quite understanding his question. "Why what?"

He looked at you intently, his eyes studying your face in the dim light. He seemed to wrestle with himself for a moment, struggling to find the words to express what he was feeling.

Finally, he spoke again, his voice a low, barely audible whisper. "Why did you help me?”

It was a question you'd been asking yourself. Why had you left the security of your position to run away with a man who didn't even know who he was?

You had contemplated your decision the night before as you lay awake, waiting for him to come out of cryostasis. "Because you deserve more, because this isn't who you are... because... I love you.”

Bucky's eyes widened at your words. He hadn't expected that. But as he looked at you - your eyes, your face, your expression - he saw the truth in them. He understood then, the depth of your feelings for him, how much you had cared for him even when he hadn't remembered you. It was a strange sort of paradox, your intense connection and devotion to a man who was both himself and yet not himself at the same time.

He felt a mixture of emotions then, a cocktail of gratitude, guilt, and something more tender he didn't quite want to name. His heart gave a painful lurch in his chest, and he found himself struggling to speak for a moment. He was not used to expressing himself, not emotionally, not about things like love. But for you, he would try.

"I..." he started, his voice hoarse. "I don't deserve you.”

"You deserve so much more. You deserve to know who you are, you deserve to live a life of your choosing.”

Bucky stared at you, he had spent so long not thinking about what he deserved, living in the shadow of his past actions, that your words were almost too much to bear. He took a shaky breath, his gaze not leaving yours. "I don't know who I am. There's so much in my head... memories, thoughts, feelings... I don't know what's real and what's not.”

“Let me help you.”

He wanted desperately to believe you, to trust you, but there was a part of him that was still wary, still distrustful. He swallowed hard, his hand clenching unconsciously in the fabric of the blanket. "You'd... do that? You'd help me?" he whispered.

"I'm here, aren't I?”

A small, humorless chuckle escaped Bucky's lips. You were right. You were here, risking everything to help him, to be with him. He looked at you, his eyes softening as he took in your expression.

His right hand came up to cup your cheek, his flesh and bone fingers gently caressing your skin. "Yeah," he said softly. "You are.”

Bucky's touch was gentle but possessive as he leaned in to kiss you. His lips were soft, a stark contrast to the rough stubble on his face. He tasted of bitter cold and a hint of fear, and yet, underneath it all, there was something else - something undeniably warm and familiar.

He pulled you closer to him, his hand moving from your cheek to the back of your neck, keeping you closer as he deepened the kiss, his tongue seeking entry into your mouth. Bucky felt the shift in you, the way you pressed closer to him, seeking more contact, more intimacy. His touch was a desperate caress, his fingers tracing the curve of your back, your thighs, every inch of skin he could reach under your thick coat. He pulled down the zipper, longing for more.

Bucky's hands stilled as he felt you shiver under his touch. He looked at you, his eyes dark and intense as he realized the effect his touch was having on you. A spark of concern flickered in his gaze, and he shifted you slightly so you were tucked tightly against him, his arms wrapped protectively around your waist.

"Are you cold?" he asked, his voice husky.

"It's fine, I'll be fine," you answered, dismissively.

He raised an eyebrow at your response, his expression saying that he didn't believe you. Bucky reached out, his fingers gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. He studied your face for a moment, taking in the way your teeth were clenched together to keep yourself from shivering.

"You're shivering," he pointed out, his voice a low murmur.

Bucky's hands moved gently as he zipped up your coat, his touch careful and considerate. He knew you were frustrated, wanting more, but his concern for your well-being outweighed his own desires. Sitting back, he studied your face, his expression torn between pulling you into his arms and his need to keep you safe. As you placed your hands on his face, Bucky felt the warmth of your skin against his, your touch gentle and soothing. He closed his eyes, pressing his cheek into your palm and savoring the sensation - a tenderness he was unaccustomed to experiencing.

"I just... I don't want you to get hurt… because of me," he whispered.

Bucky's breath caught as you kissed him, his body instantly reacting to your touch. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in tight against his chest, craving to feel you, to have you as close as could be. His lips moved with yours, the kiss starting soft and tender, but soon intensifying with desire and passion. He deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth, one hand gently cradling the back of your head, holding you firmly against him.

"Still feeling cold, Kotyonok?" He murmured against your cheek.

His whispered words, the low timbre of his voice, and the gentle caress of his lips against your skin sent a delicious shiver down your spine, igniting a smoldering heat within you. You instinctively pressed your body closer to his, craving the warmth and comfort of his touch.

You let out a soft, breathless chuckle, your voice a little hoarse as you spoke. "Not anymore," you whispered.

"Kotyonok, can I... feel you?” Bucky's words were a soft, hesitant question, his voice a low whisper in the quiet of the farmhouse. His gentle fingers traced down your clothed arm, the warmth of his touch perceptible through the fabric. Your eyes met his as you considered his question.

Bucky's hand slid around your waist, dipping beneath the waistband of your pants, as you shuffled closer to him. His touch was warm and possessive, pulling you firmly against his body. A wall of heat radiated from him, his breath hot against your ear as he spoke. Slowly, deliberately, his fingers traced lazy circles over your skin, his touch gentle but purposeful.

He spoke in a ragged, husky whisper, "You feel so soft."

Exhausted from the day's stress and harsh weather, you sighed with relief as you were finally able to rest and be cared for.

Bucky heard your weary sigh, and it stirred an ache deep within him. He knew you were exhausted, worn down by the tumultuous events that had unfolded. Yet, despite the immense stress and peril, you remained by his side, still allowing his touch. Holding you close, his solid form anchored against your back, Bucky's hand moved in slow, gentle caresses. His fingers traced delicate patterns on your skin, eliciting soft moans and sighs to escape your lips.

"Just let me take care of you," he murmured softly.

Bucky's breath caught as you parted your legs, hooking your left knee over his right thigh. His hands gripped you tightly, responding to the heat of your skin against his. His body reacted instinctively, muscles going rigid at the intimate contact. Desire burned in his eyes as he looked at you, his fingers moving slowly, deliberately. He felt your body responding, your breath hitching, your muscles clenching under his touch.

Bucky's body stiffened involuntarily as your hand slid into his pants. For a moment, he tensed up but made no attempt to stop or pull away. Instead, he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his lips seeking the sensitive spot behind your ear, where the familiar scent of your shampoo lingered. The hand on your thigh tightened slightly as your fingers found their mark, drawing a low, rumbling groan from deep within his chest.

"Easy, Kotyonok," he rasped, his voice a gruff whisper.

Bucky's breath came in ragged gasps as your hand moved over him, your touch igniting a fire in his veins. He fought to maintain his composure, attempting to mirror your movements with his own fingers, sliding them up and down your slick folds. Burying his face in the crook of your neck, he sought your skin with his lips, grazing your pulse point with his teeth as he fought for control. Yet, your touch overwhelmed him, eliciting an involuntary physical reaction he could not restrain.

"That's it, Soldat. You like that, Milyy?”

Bucky's breath caught in his throat as you addressed him as 'Soldat'. The name felt cold, distant, and out of place. It no longer fit, not with the way he was feeling, not with the intimate touch of your hand. Bucky pulled back, his eyes locking onto yours, a desperate plea in his gaze. "Not Soldat," he ground out, his voice rough and urgent. "Call me Bucky. Please."

"Bucky," you moaned.

Bucky's breath hitched as he heard his name on your lips, the desire in your voice making something primal flare inside him.

"Tell me!" he growled. "Tell me again... who am I?”

He looked down at you, his gaze dark and intense as you spoke.

“You are James Bucky Barnes… you were born…” you whimpered softly as his fingers rubbed your clit. “...in Brooklyn… New York… in 1917.”

Bucky's gentle yet deliberate touch accompanied his soft-spoken words as he took control. He sensed your responsive movements and the soft whimpers escaping your lips, which ignited a reciprocal reaction within him.

"I fought in the Second World War," he continued, "and was captured by HYDRA and turned into the Winter Soldier. But now, I am free. I’m Bucky.”

"Oh, Bucky," you moaned.

Hearing his name on your lips, hearing the way you moaned it, sent a jolt of desire through Bucky's body. He couldn't deny it anymore, the heat between you was building, and it was intense.

He pulled you closer to him, his hand continuing its slow, deliberate movements. His other hand came up to cup your face, his touch gentle but possessive.

"Say it again," he commanded, his voice a low rumble. "Say my name, Kotyonok.”

"Bucky!" You stroked him faster. 

Your breathless, urgent utterance of his name sent Bucky reeling. Tension coiled through his body as your hand moved over him, quickening with mounting urgency. He pulled you in closer, face buried in your neck, lips trailing over your skin as he panted against you, voice a low, ragged whisper.

"Yes, like that," he gasped, his hips arching into your touch.

"Come, Bucky,” you encouraged him gently. “That's it, come for me.”

Bucky let out a strangled gasp as you encouraged him, his body responding instinctually to your command. Your words and your touch were all too much, and he couldn't hold back anymore. With a low, guttural cry, he came undone, his release pulsing over your hand. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath coming in shuddering gasps as he tried to regain control of himself, his body trembling against yours.

"Fuck,” he whispered. “Love you, Kotyonok.”

Bucky's fingers resumed their movements, his touch more urgent and insistent as he focused on your pleasure. Desperate to give you the same intense sensations you had provided him, he kissed and nipped at your skin, his fingers circling your clit in slow, tight motions. He yearned to hear you cry out his name, could feel your body tightening in anticipation, knowing he had pushed you to the edge.

"Bucky, oh Bucky... I'm... I'm gonna...”

He continued his ministrations, his fingers relentless as he worked you towards your release, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered your name again and again, a low, ragged incantation.

"Come for me, sweetheart. I want to hear you. Let go.”

“BUCKY!” Your shout was swallowed by the wind howling around the desolate farmhouse.

Chapter 8 <MASTERLIST > Chapter 10

[jymwahuwu]

imagine if yanderes cyno and tighnari darlings actually managed to escape them and took the kids with them 😩🤯 they manage to evade them for at least a couple days maybe even weeks...i imagine tighnari and cyno are not at all happy when they are found

these asks should be related, so answer them together!! i actually like the concept of running away and getting caught together🤭 in this content you can be Tighnari or Cyno's wife, it's up to you! 💕

TW: yandere, non-con, forced pregnancy, kidnapping, escape, punishment, abuse of power, unhealthy relationship, spanking, aphrodisiac

Since Tighnari and Cyno are close enough to call their relationship siblings, they must have introduced their partners to each other. Of course you two know each other. You wanna run away with the other huh? Think twice, okay?

For the little housewife at Tighnari's house, now, for your daily life, take care of the fox babies and cook mushroom soup every day, clean and be bred by that man, teach Collei to read new storybooks and grammar. Tighnari always have a desire to reproduce, and it's not uncommon to push you next to a tree and put his swollen cock into your smooth walls. He loves your shyness and panic when you hold down your moans. And, after some Forest Rangers laugh and tell you to get some rest because of your accusations against their Chief Officer, you've stopped thinking that meeting more people might be a chance to be saved. Even when Tighnari tells you that two guests are coming and asks you to prepare, you just nod obediently.

For Cyno's wife, maybe you are a student of Akademiya, or just an ordinary citizen, but it doesn't matter, you don't even know why you are locked up at home by General Mahamatra. Cyno's home is filled with TCG products and some daily necessities, furniture and food. He's not the type to take care of himself. You start taking care of his life whether you like it or not - heating him up some food, cleaning the house and fighting him (in TCG). He also keeps telling you some bad jokes. He's actually kind and gentle, and what you dread are the nights he breeds you - he wants babies and wants you to fully accept the seeds. "Cy-Cyno…!! STOP!!" You gripped the sheets, toes curling as he pressed against your sensitive private parts. Pregnancy is inevitable. Now your babies can run happily in Sumeru city and house.

Cyno occasionally talks to you about his close friend named Tighnari and a little sister named Collei, and takes you and the children to the forest. Gradually, visits became more frequent. You greet each other, the babies are close playmates and friends, and the house fills with the sound of them running across the floor, introducing each other's toys. You ask each other for help one day when your husband isn't there, only to find that they are both equally horrible - why can they do these things? With someone in a similar situation, some hope is kindled in you. You secretly discuss the escape. Well, this is the City of Wisdom, so discuss it in some sensible way, okay? Don't show them any traces. The two of you exchange some codes to discuss and plan your escape route.

One day, the two of you escaped together. The conclusion of the discussion is that you absolutely cannot stay in Sumeru - one of them is in the forest and the other is in the desert, one can arrest and interrogate anyone and the other manages the rainforest area. Fontaine, Liyue, Mondstadt…you can go to any country, but you can't stay here. You run away with the babies, of course. You can't bear to leave them behind. They are scared about the journey, cuddling in your arms, asking questions like "Where are we going?", "Why doesn't papa come with us?" You reassure them, pat them on the back.

The silent and dark rainforest seems to be able to swallow the people inside. You explore according to your memory and experience, you feel wet and real under your feet, and you breathe the smell of freedom mixed with soil, and you can see the moonlight shining brightly when you look up. Occasionally, stepping on a branch and waking a sleeping squirrel makes you hear your own heart beating. The two of you meet up at the appointed place, thankful that each other was not caught by your husband.

Tighnari and Cyno were annoyed at the disappearance of the two of you - and honestly, it kind of pissed them off. You're running away now, and even taking the babies on your little adventure? Really? What kind of mother would run away from home with her babies? What is even more unacceptable is that no letter was left trying to explain your actions. At first, they thought about the danger or accident you might encounter, but all the clues showed that this was your planned escape. Cyno decided to chase you himself. Tighnari knows the details of the woods' rivers, trees, and routes, but the signs are that you have fled to the desert. He's sure it was his wife's suggestion, because you know he hates desert temperatures.

When you have fled to the desert, the orders for the Sumeru border checks have arrived. "This- this is our portrait…?" Finding some of your portraits posted in Caravan Ribat and Aaru Village really makes your stomach sink. Did they have to go this far? After a simple disguise, you temporarily stayed at the inn. You should not stay long as some of the inn staff scan you with confusion and suspicion. In desert areas, you can hire some mercenaries. Knowing that everyone has secrets, they don't ask too many reasons, they just need to send you to the border of Sumeru. And that takes days. Sand and wind all over the sky, the camel rides you forward. During the journey, you turn your head in worry, afraid that General Mahamatra will appear at the end of the desert on the other side.

Think about it - how hopeless is it when you get caught after an adventure and are only a short distance away from reaching other countries? There are still traps in the desert - what's even more unexpected is seeing those familiar fox ears before passing out. And those boots that belonged to him slowly walked in front of you. On the other hand, the one caught by Cyno was not so lucky. There is no way to fall asleep. He looks intimidating. You stammer and explain that you were taken by someone else, try to make up some excuse, but he tells you to shut up or you'll just make things worse. Once you taste the menace and seriousness in his tone, you start sobbing. People around you are looking at you curiously, wondering what you did to get you caught by General Mahamatra. He didn't talk to you much along the way, giving you the silent treatment.

Punishment - You thought you could get away with it after all that happened? Cyno thinks you are just taking advantage of his trust and tenderness in you. When you get home, he forces you to strip to check you for any wounds. You are awkwardly unable to cover your own private parts, feeling weak and small in front of him. Next, Cyno pulls you onto his lap and gives you a long spanking. This time your crying has no effect on his punishment. He puts a bracelet on your wrist - Akademiya's invention for locating and tracking people's location. As for Tighnari's punishment, you had to drink all the aphrodisiac mushroom soup. Your lips are quivering, your nipples are hard, and between your legs is dripping and aching, waiting for your husband to come home. He also used a whole week of bedtime spanking to remind you of the existence of the ruler and paddle at home.

If you thought that Tighnari and Cyno would never allow the two of you to meet again, you were wrong. When the two of you meet, they know it's almost like a humiliation, a reminder of that failed escape. "Stop thinking about your little adventures. Go to the kitchen and bake some cookies when you have time." Tighnari even spoke like this, in a teasing tone. See the way Tighnari's wife sits uncomfortably in the chair? Cyno has been gentle enough to you. He wants you to understand this.

[nights-at-crystarium]

DUMPS A MASSIVE STACK OF NOTES IN FRONT OF YOU OKAY SO- No I didn't just wait and hope for someone to ask about them, why'd you think that- I'll omit the details of how they grow close and what pushes them apart, but lemme dive into the broader chemistry. A fair warning for Fragments-spoilers if you wanna experience the comic's story as it unfolds.

Vivi needs An Adult, someone who'd stand up to his unruly character, ground him in reality, protect him. Raha perfectly fills this role, but so does Emet, merely with a different flavor. Vivi needs someone who experiences isolation and dehumanization on his level: being the wol is a lonely experience. He looks for an equal. He's okay with Emet's condescending attitude, his self-esteem doesn't want for coddling, and he can talk back anytime.

The Soulmate Magnet trope's fun, but on its own it's not enough for these two. Well, it obviously is for Emet, who seizes the chance to nibble on some crumbs that are left of Azem, what's dignity in face of all-consuming desperation. Vivi, however, his whole thing is showing middle finger to his destiny, the further it goes, the more allergic he gets to the "ooooohh it was meant to be this way~" bs that gets thrown at him ever so often. Emet's careful with the order and amount of information he discloses to Vivi, like expertly boiling a frog. Manipulation or not, they mutually benefit from this relationship. Emet gets his partner back, even if it's Not Him, half of Him feels pretty damn familiar, and Vivi gets a clear escape route from his destiny. Exchanging meaningful looks and knowing chuckles with you because we can tell that he embraces his overarching, ancient destiny this way, but shhhhhh, let him enjoy his hubris.

Out of the two, it's Emet who's a sad fool making a mistake that'd cost him everything. Of course this relationship has an impact on Vivi, but at least it doesn't kill him, eh- *gets kicked*

More under the cut /o/

Emet knows that he might be sabotaging himself, but he won't stop. He's infinitely more vulnerable to the Soulmate Magnet out of the two. He acknowledges that this could easily fail, that he might have to kill Vivi, but my Emet's killed so many not-azems anyway. He trades the potential pain of tomorrow for the small illusion of comfort today. As time goes on, he dares hoping again, hoping that this time might be different, goes all in with his cards, and, well, *waves vaguely* you'll see how that goes eventually.

The line between wolgraha and wolemet in Fragments is thinner than one may expect, the divergence where Vivi fully sides with Emet hinges on one human impulse. They already feel comfy enough, but Emet still hesitates to bare too much of his heart. They simply need more time together, which they can't have in canon because everyone expects Vivi to keep killing Lightwardens. The moment Vivi sees Emet's genuine smile and realizes that he wants to save him, to make him smile again and again, is when he trades entire world(s) for that. The catastrophic divergence isn't some epic scene, but a quiet click in his head. This decision still doesn't come easy, but Vivi would do it once he's sufficiently invested in Emet. The world owes him so much anyway. Time to take back what's been taken from him.

One important difference between Vivi and his Azem: what they'd do in a trolley problem. Vivi would literally burn worlds for one person dear to him, Azem would do (and actually did) the opposite, he didn't support the Zodiark plan AND left his lovers (Emet and Hyth) because he saw himself belonging to the people as a whole. This's becoming a tangent but Vivi absolutely hates his Azem when he finds out what - who - that infamous betrayal was really about.

But yeah Vivi takes Emet's side once he learns enough about him, he generally finds his company easy and pleasant. Another difference between Vivi and Azem: Vivi's incredibly nonjudgmental, embrace your cringe kinda guy. It takes time (which, again, they don't have in canon) for Emet to stop expecting to get teased at every turn, but even in the canon timeline he grows fond of Vivi, Vivi himself, not Azem, because Vivi's kind to him in a subtle, emotionally intelligent way that Azem's never been, he's casual and easygoing and dismissive, Emet's "tsun" just has no reason to activate. He expects betrayal, and it just. Never happens. (ofc it does in canon, but again, the line between canon and divergence is super thin).

Emet doesn't awaken Azem's memories in Vivi for several reasons. Vivi doesn't remember how they were back in the ancient past, but Emet does, he knows how to hold Vivi, who doesn't need much tbh, just company, just being quiet together. He acts disproportionately tired to the 3 years he's spent being the wol, and Emet, conveniently, just wants to chill with him. Funnily, Raha's regained excitement to be alive ends up being too much for Vivi sometimes, but I'm straying off the topic.

I treat their world as a real world that has literature, fiction, tropes, and Vivi tends to dream of being seduced by a villain. He thinks "enemies to lovers" is hot. He's cringe and he doesn't care. Surely this isn't the main force that drives them together, but it's worth mentioning for giggles.

Perhaps the most deliciously fucked up thing about villain!Vivi is how normal and human he'd remain, and drag Emet back up with him. He has no interest in the unsundered world, but he'd join the labor to make Emet happy. (I think I hit Vivi's chaotic neutral alignment on the head here). As long as Emet's in charge, as long as Vivi has no real pressure of responsibility, as long as he's merely a weapon (ironically, yeah), an instrument in master's hand, he doesn't mind. This pic should make more sense now.

Vivi finds someone who can save him from his destiny, break free from Hydaelyn, he never has to make another decision again if he's with Emet. His manic search for agency loops on itself, but hey, he DOES choose this, so arguably, this's more agency than he has as the wol. Even this early in the comic we can see that he simply wants to vibe, to be left alone. Just for that, Emet's actually better than Raha, if we dismiss the morals and destruction of worlds and all such nonsense.

When Emet's inevitably gone at the end of 5.0, it doesn't spell the end of their story. He lingers in the form of Vivi's obsession, questions that Vivi didn't get to ask him, agony of the Soulmate Magnet that Vivi's now aware of, Raha's bittersweet memories of him. He haunts this story forever. And ofc I'm writing an au on the side where he gets to live. It's not as enticing from the storytelling perspective because it's just "duh Emet lives and gets to be happy", but damn it heals my soul to indulge in that.

[neat-crows]

For some reason I've seen a lot of people disliking the way Jessica Jones season 1 ends. The vibe I've seen is that it wasn't epic enough, it was underwhelming, and that it was too simple and fast and Killgrave would be too smart to fall for it. etc etc.

I think these takes miss the point though. This is the only way he could have gone out, BECAUSE it wasn't an attempt to outsmart him at all.

The whole point is that Killgrave wasn't an epic villain, he was a weird misogynistic little control freak that was obsessed with owning Jessica because he couldn't stand that she was her own person.

The whole season is a game of cat and mouse between them, and you can see just how smart both of them are - they are both equally powerful and intelligent, BUT killgrave literally didn’t need to be doing this at all! He could have left ANY time, he didn’t have to send Hope after her, he could have left before the house, or after he escaped, or after the nightclub, literally WHENEVER

His obsession with controlling Jessica was always his downfall

She was the executioner, but in the end he brought it all on himself

He didn’t get an epic ending because it’s not ABOUT him and because he didn’t need one. It was never about outsmarting or overpowering him, it was about his incessant need for control and Jessica making a decision.

And it works SO WELL not just because it makes good commentary, but also because it mirrors exactly how Killgrave tried to get her to bend to his will; both of them aimed for each other’s emotional weak point - but killgrave failed because he doesn’t actually know or understand Jessica at all, just the version of her he made up in his head and made her play act like a little doll for him

He thinks her weakness is a hero complex, because the first time they meet she’s saving Malcolm from some muggers and killgrave asks her if it felt good to beat up those men, she says yes, and when he asks why she says

“Because I helped someone”

And he’s such an inherently selfish person that to him that translates to a hero complex - He can’t imagine a person who just wants to save people, not to bolster their self worth or to in some way help theme selves. He’s spent his entire life only doing things because he wanted to, because it brought HIM satisfaction, that the idea that someone might willingly do Anything that’s not to make them feel better doesn’t even cross his mind.

And that’s why at the house he shows her the (curated) videos of his childhood, why he “respects” her wishes about not hurting the nosy neighbor, why he goes and saves that family with her, and is genuinely helpful. His tactic to get her to stay with him is to show her how his powers can be used for good, show her he’s also a person who can experience pain and love and joy, and then make her ‘realize’ if she stays with him she could make him a hero and good person. Because he thinks she will sacrifice herself for him and for society if he presents it as a way to atone and heal her guilt.

But Jessica refuses. She betrays him and takes her own route while knowing if she had given up all her autonomy she could have made him a good person and saved countless lives. (I don’t think this was ever actually achievable but she believed it was so the point stands)

Jessica jones has a lot of problems, but a hero complex isn’t one of them.

But Jessica jones DOES know his weakness, his real weakness, her. Controlling the only person who could defy him. And yes it is an obvious and see through plan - Killgrave even calls it out! But then in order to prove she’s faking what does he do? He assaults Trish - and when she continues following his orders he FULLY believes it and completely lets down his guard.

Why? It’s such an obvious trick! He’s supposed to be clever!!!! Well it worked so well because he clearly WANTED to believe it so bad (self admittedly), he was drunk on his own power, he wanted to believe his own strength and he wanted to own Jessica again. But also because again

He thinks Jessica has a hero complex

Her allowing this to happen to her friend ? Jessica jones would never do this! He knows her so well! She just Can’t Help but Help people! If she was faking her helplessness this would have broken her out of it! (Also there’s the whole level of the jealousy he has of Trish and the love Jessica and Trish share but that’s for another post)

And so he dies, small, unable to speak, not being told he’s loved, with a simple snapped neck from a cheap, unplanned ploy, that was thought up on the spot. Just as he deserved.