#i watched the bottom right gif so much on loop

[athenamikaelson]

Klaus Mikaelson x Soulmate!Reader x Elijah Mikaelson Pt. 8

Word Count- 7.8k

Warnings- Swearing, violence, blood, unhealthy thoughts when it comes to pain

A/N- Klaus in Alaric’s body will be referenced as Klaric since it’s easier for me to remember and easier than putting, “Klaus in Alaric’s body,” 100 times lol. ALSO it was so uncomfortable to write Klaus in Ric’s body when he and the reader are interacting.  So good luck.

-3rd Person POV-

Katherine sat shaking in her chair as she watched Klaus, who was currently residing in Alaric’s body, riffle through Alaric’s closet. Katherrine’s fear was evident to both parties as she watched the man from a small distance. 

“Ugh! Who is this guy? Safari Sam,” Klaric said disgustedly as he went through the dozens of flannel and khaki shirts. 

Klaric sighs as he grabs two shirts from the rack and holds them up in front of the younger vampire, “Okay. Bad… Or badder?”

Katherine scowls as she answers him, “The dark colors suit you better.”

“Oh thank you, honey. Okay,” Klaric throws the dismissed shirt onto the bed and then begins to put on the dark one, “Pop quiz. The dagger and white ash are in the Salvatore's possession, correct?”

“The dagger was used to kill Elijah. You’ll find him in the basement of the Salvatore house,” Katherine answers the question with about as much excitement as one can have in her situation. 

“Okay, that dagger needs to stay exactly where it is. The last thing I need to do is resurrect Elijah,” Klaric scoffs, “Oh, that guy’s a buzz kill.”

“Don’t forget you’re on the outs with your girlfriend Jenna.”

Klarics eyebrows raise and he nods along as if he actually cares, which he doesn’t, “Right. Elena’s aunt. For, uh, all the lies about Isobel. What else?”

“That’s it,” Katherine says but her breathing betrays her. Klaric takes a step forward and brings his hand up to brush a finger over her hair, resulting in a frightened jump from the latter. 

“So jumpy,” Klaric’s mocking tone breaks the silence. 

“Please,” Katherine’s voice comes out desperate, “Just kill me. I’ve told you everything I know.”

Klaric leans down to be eye to eye with the doppelganger, “See, I believe you believe that. But what would you not know? What could they be keeping from you? Anything? Tell me,” Klaric’s pupils enlarge as he compels the younger vampire. 

“They were trying to see if Bonnie could find a way to kill an Orginal without a dagger.”

“Bonnie the best friend?”

Katherine nods as Klaric stands up and crosses his arms in annoyance, “I thought you said she didn’t have her powers anymore.”

“She doesn’t. Or didn’t. I don't know,” Kathrine tries to reason, “You kidnapped me, remember? I’m kind of out of the loop.”

“Well, we’ll have to get to the bottom of that,” Klaric glances down at Kathrine again, “Anything else I should know.”

Katherine appears to be fighting back her words but Klaric’s compulsion proves to be too strong, “There’s a girl.”

This perks Klaric’s interest as he gestures with his hand for Katherine to continue, “Oh please, do go on.”

“She’s a friend of Elena’s,” Klaric rolls his eyes at this statement getting bored of Katherine’s dodginess. 

“Katerina, please tell me you aren’t wasting my time with the knowledge of a teenage girl who holds no means to my plan.”

Katherine opens and closes her mouth a few times before lowly biting out her words, “Elijah was quite fond of her. Before he was daggered.”

At this comment, Klaric’s eyebrows furrow, and a small smirk covers his lips, “You mean to tell me my older brother has a little crush on some teenage girl,” The amusement in his tone is evident. 

Katherine shakes her head as if Klaric should understand better what she’s talking about, “No it’s not like that,” She frowns, “Well, at first I had thought so too, but it’s deeper than just some crush. From what I’ve heard and seen it’s not just some random bond between them. It’s something deeper, something supernatural. Elijah is overly protective of her and he looks at her like,” She pauses as if talking about this hurts her, “Like, she’s all there is.”

At Katherine’s last sentence, the smirk from Klaric’s face promptly drops and is replaced momentarily by a look of disbelief. 

“You’re not suggesting what I think you’re suggesting,” Klaric’s tone darkens.

“I’m not one hundred percent sure, I mean I’ve only seen that kind of bond a handful of times in my entire life but,” Katherine sighs, “That’s the only possible explanation I can find for an Original vampire latching himself to a human girl like that.”

Klaric appears to be in thought for a moment as he processes Katherine’s words. Realizing that if the younger vampire were right, it would cause a slight hitch in his plans. 

Katherine, taking Klarics silence as a threat speaks up hastily, “Please, just kill me, Klaus. Be done with it.”

Klaric turns around and frowns mockingly at her, pushing the new information he just learned into the back of his brain for the current moment, “And show you kindness? I’ve searched for you for over five hundred years. Your death… is going to last at least half that long.”

Katherine’s shoulders tighten as Klaric pulls a pocket knife out from his jeans and opens it, “I want you to take this knife…and stab yourself.”

Katherine slowly picks up the knife and without a second thought plunges the knife into her thigh.  

“And while I’m gone, I want you to do that over and over and over again. And if you get bored,” Klaric smiles at her with nothing but malice, “switch legs.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’m gonna go lay eyes on my precious doppelganger,” Klaric thinks for a moment before smirking, “and maybe my future sister-in-law.”

Klaric presses a kiss to the top of Katherine’s head, “Oh, don’t look so glum, Katerina. The fun is just beginning.”

—

Y/N POV-

My hand shakily grips my shifter as I put my car into park. My hand continues to rest there as my vision goes in and out and my breathing rises as I stare at the Salvatore house in front of me. I can see Stefan and Damon sitting on the brick porch but I don’t seem to have caught their attention so that gives me a moment to collect myself. I try to calm my breathing, by doing deep breaths in and out, the longer I do this though, and prolong going into the boarding house, a coil of anxiety builds in my stomach. The last time I was here was days ago when Alaric killed Elijah. 

“He’s only temporarily dead. As long as the dagger stays in his chest he won’t wake up.”

The information Elena had told me the morning after the dinner party bounced around in my head, just like it had since the first time I heard it.

-Flashback-

A sharp pain jolts me out of the comforting dream I was having. It was one I don’t remember ever having before and it felt more like a memory than anything else. I remember sitting on a rock overlooking a small glistening brook, the smell of forest air and wildflowers surrounded me. I remember feeling the warm sun caress my skin and then hearing footsteps beside me. A man, or who I believed was a man, I couldn’t tell since his face was blurred. It was like when you look at your reflection in water but then the current comes and causes ripples, distorting your reflection. When staring at his face I would think for a moment that I could place together some of his features but whenever I believed I got close, his face would ripple again.

 Thinking back to it I knew I should’ve been unnerved by the faceless man but I felt nothing but a certain kind of comfort. As if I was meeting an old friend that I had known longer than life itself. The man's blurred face would look back at me and from his staring I wondered if my face was just as blurry as his was and he was trying to decipher my features just as I was with him. I never found out though because right when he appeared as if he were to start speaking I was awoken by the pain in my chest. 

“Hey, hey! You’re ok, everything is ok,” Elena’s comforting voice comes from beside me as I feel her pull me into a hug. 

I shake her off and then look at her quizzically, the dull ache in my chest still present, “What happened? Why are you here?”

Elena’s face falls from a worried look to one of shame as she glances down at her hands.

“Elena?”

She sighs and looks back up to me, “How much of last night do you remember?”

At her question I frown and wonder what she could mean by that but then quickly memories of the dinner party and Elijah catapult through my mind. Elijah picking me up because of my flat tire, hearing him talk about Salem and the dead witches, him holding my hand, and…, “Oh God. Elijah! He died,” I know I shouldn’t care so much about a man I had just met but something in me shakes, “Alaric he killed him.”

Elena shakes her hands and head, “No! Well…I mean technically, yes, but not really.”

Elena must see the evident confusion on my face because she begins to retell everything that happened after I had passed out. From Alaric and Jenna taking me home, to Elijah waking back up and going after Elena, and then to Elena tricking Elijah and daggering him. Even though Elena’s my friend, when she told me that, anger rose throughout my body and I wanted to yell at her for what she had done. But from the guilty look on her face, I could tell she was already mad at herself. 

“He’s only temporarily dead. As long as the dagger stays in his chest he won’t wake up,” Elena tells me, and a deep breath I didn’t realize I was holding escapes my lips. 

“When I heard about you fainting I came here as soon as I could. I got here a few hours ago,” She motions to my bedroom door, “Your mom let me in. I’m really sorry you had to witness that Y/N, if I knew what Damon was up to I would’ve warned you not to go. But, when has Damon ever let any of us in on his master plans,” She tries to crack a joke but it doesn’t land. 

“So Elijah isn’t dead?”

Elena shakes her head, “Nope, just temporarily.”

-End of Flashback-

Temporarily. Not dead dead. Well I mean technically he’s already dead but… never mind. A light knock on my car window makes me slightly jump, but I relax when I see Stefan standing there with a small comforting smile on his face. He slowly opens my car door, “Are you ok, Y/N?” 

I want to tell him, “hell to the no,” and put my car in drive and never come back to this godforsaken house ever again, but I can’t do that to Stefan. 

Days have passed since the dinner party and each one Stefan has somehow checked on me and my mental state. At first, it was him showing up at my house because I couldn’t get myself to go to school, but then when I finally did push myself to go he would somehow always find me in the hallways and walk with me to my classes, even those that we didn’t share. Some of those times Elena would join us, so I thought it was him just following her around but then when Elena wouldn’t show up at school or she was somewhere else he’d still walk with me. I wouldn’t admit it out loud, but it was kind of nice. I know it’s just pity but I began to look forward to our walks since we’d just talk about anything and nothing. I’d found that Stefan, unlike his brother, is quite personable when he’s not overtaken by his lust for blood. Which is something he admitted to me one day after school. I found it odd how someone who seems to be as moral as he is, can succumb to that kind of monster. 

I want to slam my door and leave but instead, I send Stefan a small smile, turn my car off, and step out of my car. Even though I think he’s only being nice to me out of pity, I don’t really want to ruin any chance of messing up whatever “friendship” we have going on.

“Elena’s waiting for you inside,” Stefan smiles at me again as he leads me up the walkway to the stairs where the Demon is perched. I glare at him as he smirks devilishly at me as I walk up the stairs. 

“How was your trip?”

Damon’s question has me shaking my head in annoyance, “What are you gabbing about, I didn’t take any trip.”

“I mean the trip you took to the floor,” He laughs to himself like he’s the funniest person alive, “You know when you fainted.”

“Go to hell, Damon.”

“Go to hell, Damon.”

Stefan and I echo each other as we both roll our eyes at the dark-haired vampire who just shrugs his shoulders, “Just playing around. It’s how Pukie and I’s friendship works.”

My lip curls up in disgust, “We don’t have a friendship.”

Damon fakes a gasp as he places his hand on his nonbeating heart, “You wound me.”

“Too bad not fatally,” I say under my breath but both vampires catch it, resulting in a small snort from Stefan and a scowl from Damon. The latter appears like he’s about to say something else but when the front door opens and a bald man who looks like he just walked off a Monopoly game board comes out, he stops. 

Elena appears beside him and shakes his hand, “Thank you, Mr. Henry.”

Mr. Monopoly sends her a smile and then leaves. I walk with Damon and Stefan to the front door and as I walk through I hear them both halt. I turn around to see them both standing at the entryway of the door. 

“Did I miss something? Who was the bald guy,” I question Elena who stands next to me and laughs at my question.

 “That was Mr. Henry. He just gave the deed to the house,” Elena smiles as she looks around the room as if she hadn’t been here a thousand times before.

“Wait. This house,” I point to the ceiling confused.

Elena nods, “Yep. Damon and Stefan signed over the house to me so no uninvited guests can enter without my approval.”

Oh. Vampires. Right.

“Oh, well that’s smart, I think. Must’ve been Stefan’s idea right?”

“You’re hilarious, Pukey,” Damon says with no amusement covering his face. 

Stefan seems delighted though as his shoulders move up and down in laughter. 

Elena turns to Stefan and smiles at him, “Stefan. Would you like to come inside my house?”

“I would love to. Thank you,” Stefan smiles at his girlfriend and comes to stand next to me as we watch Elena and Damon having a stare-down. 

“What are we, twelve?”

“One of us is,” Elena’s jab has me snorting.

“If I let you in do you promise to obey the owner of this house?”

Damon face contorts in disgust as if that was the craziest thing he’s ever heard, “No.”

“Seriously, Damon. My way. You promised. I call the shots. No lies, no secret agendas. Remember?”

“Yes, Elena. Sure.”

Elena looks like she’s about to invite him in but then she looks back at me momentarily and then back to Damon, “One more thing.”

Damon rolls his eyes, “Of course.”

“No more calling Y/N those nicknames. Stop being an ass.”

Damon looks at her for a moment before glancing at me and sending me a fake smile, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Then please, come in.”

Damon walks through the threshold and by Elena and Stefan but when he passes me, he leans down slightly to whisper to me, “Always gotta cross your fingers, Pukey,” Damon raises his hand to show his middle finger crossed over his pointer finger. 

“Ass.”

I follow the three into the living room but then notice Bonnie and send her a small smile, her face brightens as she sees me and sends me a friendly wave. Bonnie hands Elena her jacket who puts it into her bag.

“Wait,” Stefan interrupts, “Where are you going?”

“To school.”

“Huh?”

Damon chimes in, “No, no, no, we didn’t create a safe house for you to leave it.”

“Yeah, guys. Klaus is out there. We know that.”

“Right. But where? No one knows. Look. I really appreciate what you guys are doing. And I’ll be able to sleep at night knowing that I’ll be safe here but I’m not going to be a prisoner,” Elena stares at both the men and Stefan glances back to his brother.

“Your way, Elena.”

“Don’t worry, I’m ready. If he shows his face, I can take him. I know how,” Bonnie’s words send a sense of comfort through me. Always stay next to the all-powerful witch. Noted. 

“The way I see it next to Bonnie is the safest place I can be.” 

“Come on,” Elena gestures for us to follow her to our cars. 

I wait at the door for a moment though, pretending to be grabbing my keys from my bag. Stefan walks past me and follows Elena and Bonnie. I turn to Damon who stands in the same spot and send him a small smirk as I bring my hand out of my bag and show him the singular finger I’m holding up. 

Damon scoffs and rolls his eyes, “Real mature.”

“Later, Demon.”

—

The first-period bell rings as I quickly run to my seat next to Bonnie. I stopped for an iced tea and didn’t really know how long it would take me. So thankfully going ten miles over the speed limit the entire way got me here just in time. I turn and smile at Elena who is sitting behind me and Stefan who is sitting to her right. Elena brings up the paper in her hands and shows it to me and Stefan with a smirk. The paper is a flyer for the 60’s dance tonight and both Stefan and I share the same face as we both shake our heads at Elena. She just rolls her eyes and shows it to Bonnie who smirks even more than Elena and nods her head. I laugh slightly at my new friend and she leans over to me, “Caroline will kick your butt if you don’t come tonight.”

I debate it over for a moment if I’d rather spend two hours in a gym with sweaty teenagers or face the blonde wrath of Caroline Forbes. 

“Yep, I’ll be there,” I say and hear Elena whisper-yell a small yay and Bonnie smirks triumphantly. 

“Hello, class,” Ric’s voice has me turning to the front as he walks in. I frown though when I see his current apparel. Unlike before, where he usually opts for something casual, today something about him seems different. He almost looks kind of attractive. Wait. Ew, hell no. 

Ric thumbs through the book he’s holding as he asks the class what we’re learning today, which I find quite odd since that’s kind of his job. Maybe he’s day drinking again?

“With the decade dance tonight we’ve been covering the ‘60s all week,” Dana’s voice has me inwardly groaning. Ever since I got to this school she’s been a total pain in my ass, always commenting on how I dress or how little I talk. 

‘Right the ‘60s,” Ric turns to the class but stops for a moment. I follow his line of sight and frown as I watch him watch Elena closely for a moment before clearing his throat. 

He turns back around to face the chalkboard, “The uh… The ‘60s wish there was something good I could say about the ‘60s but, they actually kind of sucked.”

I slightly snort at Ric’s jokes because honestly, he’s not wrong. I stop laughing though when I realize he heard me. I meet Ric’s eyes and I frown in confusion when his eyebrows furrow and his eyes search my entire face practically a hundred times over as if this is the first time he’s ever seen me. He watches me for another moment before he clears his throat and turns back to the board hastily. Well, that wasn’t weird at all. 

“Um, ya. The uh, Beetle’s made it bearable,” Ric turns back around and faces the classroom his gaze finds me once more and I frown at him to which he darts his eyes away. Ya, definitely day drinking. 

“Um, what else was there, The Cuban missile thing, the uh. We walked on the moon, there was Watergate.”

“Watergate was the seventies, Ric,” Elena corrects him stopping him from his pacing, “I mean, Mr. Saltzman.”

“Right, all kind of mushes together up here, the ‘60s, ‘70s. But thank you, Elena.”

The rest of the class goes on like this, Ric half-assedly teaching, or more like listing things that happened in the ‘60s. Thankfully after 45 minutes the bell rings and I go to follow my friends out of the classroom but stop as I glance at Ric who is wiping away the writing on the chalkboard. Elena, Bonnie, Stefan, and the rest of my classmates exit the classroom leaving just Ric and I. I don’t think he realizes I’m here as I walk up towards his desk.

“Uh, Ric?”

At the sound of my voice, Ric’s hand pauses on the chalkboard and for a moment I could’ve sworn I saw his grip tighten on the brush. I hear him release a breath before he turns to look at me. His face is remote from any emotion as he stares at me.

“Yes?”

His monotone voice has me slightly annoyed, “I just wanted to check if you were alright?” 

My question has him slightly narrowing his eyes at me, “Why would you think something is wrong?”

I shrug my shoulders, “I don’t know you just seem a little out of it. I just wanted to make sure you were all right. I mean I heard about Jenna and I know it’s none of my business but-”

“You’re right, it is none of your business,” Ric’s harsh tone has me frowning as I look at him. The way he’s talking to me is almost like I’m talking to a complete stranger. 

“Don’t you have a class to be going to, instead of bothering me?” I open my mouth to question why he’s being such an ass but these past few days I don’t really feel like I have any fight left in me at times. Right now being one of those. 

“I’m sorry,” I say pulling my backpack closer to me as I begin to walk out the door, “I’ll make sure to not bother you again.”

—

The rest of the first half of school goes by slowly and I practically have to trudge my way into the cafeteria. Elena notices me and waves at me. I look over to the lunch line but can’t seem to find the appetite to eat so I slowly make my way over to Bonnie and Elena. I throw my bag on the table, lay my head on it, and close my eyes with a sigh.

“Long day,” Elena questions from beside me.

I just wordlessly nod. 

“Aren’t you going to get lunch,” I hear Bonnie ask me, and I shake my head. 

“Alright, wakey-wakey,” Elena uses her index finger to lift my head off my bag, “You need to eat, here,” She rips her sandwich and half, and I kind of find it gross her fingers are touching my share but the gesture is still sweet. She places the sandwich in my open hand and gestures for me to eat it. I stare at it for a moment then slowly bring it to my lips and take a minuscule bite.

“Yummm,” I say sarcastically which makes Bonnie giggle and Elena roll her eyes playfully. 

We’re interrupted though when the she-devil appears, “Hey, Elena, there you are,” Dana’s squeaky voice fills my ears and I fight the urge not to throw my head back down on my bag, “Okay, this is gonna sound freaky but this totally hot guy just asked me to ask you if you're going to the dance tonight.”

I throw up a disgusted look as Elena laughs and Bonnies speaks up, “Tell him she has a boyfriend.”

“You could at least meet him. He’ll be at the dance tonight. Look for him. His name is Klaus.”

At the mention of Klaus, all three of us freeze up and a wave of nausea washes over me. 

“I’m sorry, what did you just say?”

“His name’s Klaus? I know the name stupid but I swear he’s hot.”

I’m frozen as Bonnie starts questioning Dana for his whereabouts. Then Bonnie enlightens us by saying Dana’s been compelled. 

“But he wants to know if you’ll save him the last dance. How cute is that?”

Oh shit. 

—

I sigh as I approach the front door to the Salvatore’s for the second time today. Elena called me a little while ago saying they were meeting there to talk strategy about tonight. I told her we should just use the Salvatore’s vampire money and get the hell out of dodge, but she didn’t agree with me. So here we are. I shove open the wooden door and look at the five figures already standing in the living room. Bonnie and Elena stand to one side of the room, opposite the Salvatore’s, and Ric stands at the end of the entryway. 

“Sorry I’m late,” I apologize to Elena as I come to stand next to Ric, “My brother needed to be dropped off at practice.”

“No worries, Ric just got here too,” Elena gestures to the man standing next to me and I slightly glare at him when I remember how he acted this morning. His eyebrows furrow slightly as he notices my unapproving look. I look away from him and walk down to sit on the sofa. 

“What’s our plan of attack,” Elena questions the group. I actually don’t understand why I’m here. I mean when Klaus comes for Elena the most I can do is probably make fun of his split ends or something like that. Without being supernatural there’s not much to do here. 

“Me,” Bonnie answers, “I’m the plan. He has no idea how much power I can channel. If you can find him. I can kill him.”

I fight the urge to say that this all could’ve been an email and I didn’t have to waste the gas money to get all the way over town since most of us don’t have generational wealth to fall back upon, but I fight my inner demons and stay quiet. 

“That’s not going to be easy,” Ric chimes up, “I mean, he is the biggest baddest vampire around.”

“Kinda sounds like someone has a crush,” I snarkily whisper under my breath but I must not have been quiet enough since Ric’s eyes flash towards me and for a moment his upper lip twitches but then falls back into a flat line and he looks away. 

“Alaric has a point. I mean, what if he,” I flinch backward as Damon is thrown across the room by Bonnie. I loud laugh escapes my lips and I slap my hand to my mouth to try to cover it. 

“Well, I was impressed,” Stefan says amused.

“I personally think you should try it again,” I say to Bonnie, “Y’know just to make sure you really know how to do it.”

Bonnie smirks at my suggestion and I hear Damon swear at me under his breath. 

“It doesn’t matter if he’s an Original. I can take down anyone who comes at me. I can kill him, Elena. I know I can.”

This really could’ve been an email. 

—

Another dance. Alone. God I have no game. 

I stare at myself in my hallway mirror and brush my fingers against the orange fabric of my dress. Because I didn’t plan on going to this dance, until this morning I didn’t have anything to wear, but after complaining about it to Stefan he dropped off one of his spares he had lying around in his attic about an hour ago. I don’t even want to know why he has a bunch of women’s dresses in different sizes in his attic. So I did not ask. And I don’t think I ever will. 

“Alright let’s get this show on the road, the ladies are waiting for me,” Theo’s voice comes from the living room as he adjusts his tie. My younger brother is dressed in a suit and tie that seriously needs to be ironed. 

“Where the hell did you even get that?”

At my question, Theo tenses up slightly, “It was in Dad’s things.”

At the mention of our father, we both go quiet, which is something Theo always seems to struggle with. I take a deep breath and shake my head away from the thoughts of him.

“Ok let’s go,” I try to fake a smile for Theo, “Wouldn’t want to leave your date waiting.”

Theo’s demeanor instantly changes as he smirks evilly, “Dates, plural my dear sister.”

I freeze and whip around to him and fight the urge to wring my little brother’s neck, “Please tell me you're not cheating on some poor girl.”

Theo raises his hands up, “Hell no, I’m a player, not a cheater! I’ve got morals,” He puts his hand on his heart as if I’ve insulted him, “These two girls asked me and I told them I can’t be held down by just one woman, so I told them I’d share myself for the night with them.”

I fight the urge to throw up on my brother, “How generous of you.”

Theo smirks at me as he opens the front door and gestures for me to exit, “You raised me right.”

—

Not even a minute after entering the gym, where the dance is being held, and Theo has already been swept away by his “dates.” God that kid is going to give me an early death. 

I glance around the gym staring at the masses of students all laughing, dancing, and having a great time and I envy how carefree they all appear. I’m about to be struck by a tone of self-pity when that sharp pain from before has me gripping my chest. I hunch over in pain and try to work through it by doing stupid breathing exercises my mom taught me, but the pain only gets harder to bear. I take a few steps so I can lean against the nearest table, and close my eyes trying to wait out the pain. What if I’m having a heart attack? Oh god, can someone my age even have heart attacks?

“Y/N what’s wrong, what happened,” A frantic voice comes from beside me and I turn my head slightly and open my eyes to see Ric hunched over next to me. His emotionless features from before are long gone and replaced by what almost looks like fear. God, do I look that bad?

“My chest,” Is all I’m able to breathe out as I point to the center of my chest where the pain is coming from. 

Alaric’s eyes go from my eyes to where I’m pointing and I could’ve sworn a look of realization flashed through them but it’s gone within a moment. Ric places his arm around my waist and he leads me to a nearby chair. He tells me to sit still for a moment and then he comes back with a glass of water. 

I shake my head and scoff because I know a simple glass of water isn’t going to do anything but Ric’s face flashes with annoyance and he grabs my left hand with his and puts the cup in it. He wraps my fingers around the cup and lifts it to my lips, “Drink. Now.” I sigh and go to argue but he uses that to send the water down my throat. The cool liquid goes down my throat and I swallow it harshly. After a moment Ric brings the cup down from my lips. I go to bitch at him only to realize that the pain is gone. What the hell? 

I begin to question if he added some supernatural magic juju to the water but he quickly drops my hand as if it were on fire, gives me a once over, and walks away without another word. What the actual hell? 

—

I let out a loud laugh as I dance with Caroline who swings me around as a slow song plays on the speaker.

“Keep up girl,” Caroline squeals as we go around in circles. Even though the couples around us are all shooting us dirty looks, Caroline who saw me sitting by myself 20 minutes ago and has made me dance with her ever since, doesn’t seem to care. Matt who is supposed to be her date left us to go get drinks so it left Caroline and I to slow dance to some old song. And I mean we did start out slow dancing, she lead of course, but then we just kind of kept spinning around faster and faster. So here we are laughing our asses off as she practically flings me around the dance floor. 

The song comes to a close and Caroline and I can’t stop laughing even as Dana takes the stage, “Hey everyone! I have a special shout-out to Elena, from Klaus.”

And no more laughing. 

I look through the crowd and spot Elena, Jeremy, Bonnie, Damon, and Stefan all standing in a circle glancing around the gym. Thankfully Matt comes back and I bid Caroline and him a farewell for now, ignoring Caroline’s “WTF” look she shoots me. 

Another slow song starts to play as I make my way through the crowd and fight a scream as I feel a hand grab mine and I’m pulled to someone's chest. I prepare for the worst but once I see who it is I just roll my eyes. 

“Oh, it’s just you,” I say to Damon who smirks down at me.

“Someone’s jumpy,” I roll my eyes at him and go to walk away when he pulls me back, “Dance with me.”

“I’d rather jump off a cliff, thank you very much.”

“Y/N, one dance,” I turn to look at Damon and try to find any evil intent in his look but am surprised to find none.

“Why,” I question him skeptically.

Damon slowly pulls me into him, puts his hand on my lower back, and raises his other for me to take, I glare at him as I slowly place my hand in his and he slowly starts to sway me to the music. 

“I’m only saying this because no one can overhear me, with the music playing,” I start to get frightened at what he’s about to say, “But, I’m sorry.” 

Holy shit. Maybe I did have a heart attack and am hallucinating now because I could’ve sworn THE Damon Salvawhore was apologizing. 

“What did you just say,” I ask amazed.

Damon just rolls his eyes and scoffs as he spins me around, “Don’t make it a big thing. And if you tell anyone I’ll deny it. But yes, I’m sorry.”

“For what? Calling me names?”

Damon shakes his head and makes a face as if that was a crazy suggestion, “No of course not. I will never give that up…I’m talking about the dinner party.”

At the mention of that night, I turn to stare at anywhere other than Damon, “I’ll always protect Elena and I don’t care who I have to kill to do that,” He pauses probably realizing his apology sucks ass, “But, I could’ve done it without you there. You didn’t need to see that. I know you and Elijah were friends or whatever,” I go to deny it but he stops me, “Don’t even try to deny it. I saw how you were with him. With everyone else, you’re more timid but with him,” He pauses, “I don’t know, you were just more comfortable, more you.”

Damon’s words hang in the air for a moment as we continue to sway to the music, “Does this mean…we’re friends now,” I look up to him with slight disgust and he sends me a smirk. 

“No way in hell, Pukerella.”

“Oh, thank god,” I say with a breath of relief. At that Damon lets out a huff of a laugh and for a moment I think I can see past the angry vampire facade he has going on and it makes me wonder just what happened to make him this way. The song comes to an end though and Damon’s hands drop from my back and hand, he goes to walk away but I call out to him. 

“Thank you for the apology,” Damon turns around and slightly nods, “You’re not that terrible for Hell’s gatekeeper.”

Damon’s deep laugh echoes through the gym as he walks away from me. And for a moment I let a small smile fall onto my face. That is until Elena comes rushing over to me with Bonnie in her grip.

“Y/N, come on,” And there goes the rest of the night I think to myself as I follow an angry Elena out of the high school and into the parking lot. Not quite sure why, but what the hell?

“How could you not tell me,” Elena questions Bonnie and I start to get even more confused, “No way, it’s not an option.”

“What’s not an option,” I chime in feeling like a little kid watching her parents argue. 

Elena turns to me, “If Bonnie channels all that power to kill Klaus, it’ll kill her too.”

At this new information, my eyes pretty much fly out of my head, “Seriously?! Bonnie, what the hell?”

“It’s our only option.”

“Then we’ll find another way, okay? Bonnie you’re not dying to save my life.”

“I agree, this is a suicide mission, Bonnie.”

“I have the power to save you! If I don’t use it and something happens that would kill me more.”

Elena shakes her head in denial, “I can’t let you.”

“Just answer one question…If this situation was reversed would you do it for me?”

Elena goes quiet and Bonnies has her answer, “So you know why I have to.”

“No, No!” Elena’s voice cracks and I feel a tear slide down my cheek at the realization that I’m going to lose my new friend. 

“Elena,” Alaric runs up to us and I quickly wipe away the loose tears. 

“What is it?”

“He has Jeremy,” Ric’s words have all three of us shaken.

“Yeah, Klaus has Jeremy. Come on,” He hurriedly gestures for us to follow him. Without a second thought, we run through the metal door and into the school. 

“Ok, so where are you taking us,” Elena hastily questions Alaric but as we run through the hall something in the back of my mind is telling me something isn’t right. 

“Just a little further,” Ric says but something in his tone makes me halt. 

“Wait,” My voice has all three of them stopping and I look wearily at Ric and he watches me carefully. 

“Ric,” I pause and realize that I’m about to sound crazy for even questioning Alaric, the same Alaric who has been nothing but good to all of us kids, until today at least, “How did you know Klaus took Jeremy?”

Ric stares at me and for a moment his face looks like he’s almost proud of me for questioning him, but then he just shrugs his shoulders, “Stefan told me.”

He turns around and starts walking some more but Elena, Bonnie, and I don’t follow him. They must’ve caught on to what I was feeling since they started questioning Ric themselves.

“Where’s Jeremy,” Bonnie yells to Ric and a chill runs up my spine as he lets out a long sigh.

“I just had to get away from that dance. The ’60s, ugh. Not my decade. I mean whose call was that, anyway? I much prefer the ’20s. You know, the styles, the parties, the jazz.”

I watch unnerved as Ric speaks as if he has no care in the world.

“Alaric,” Elena calls to him, “Are you on vervain?”

With every step Ric takes towards us, we take one away from him.

“Now why would you ask me that question, Elena?”

Bonnie stands in front of both of us and Elena pushes me to stand behind her, “He's being compelled.”

“Nope! Try again,” When Ric says this my eyes start to water at the realization. 

“That’s not Alaric,” I say which has “Alaric’’ sending me a satisfied look.

“I knew there must’ve been a reason he liked you,” “Alaric” almost bites out, “Well, except for the obvious reason.” 

I frown at what he says, confused about what the hell he’s talking about. 

“Who am I, Little one,” “Alaric,” asks me, and Bonnie and Elena look at me still confused.

“Klaus…You’re Klaus.”

“Bingo! Aren’t you a smart one!”

“No,” Elena shakes her head, “It’s not possible.”

“Just relax, Elena. I’m not here to hurt you. You’re not on my hit list tonight,” He shoots me a look, “Neither are you.”

Then he looks back to Bonnie, “But you are,” He runs towards Bonnie but she uses her powers to push him into a wall. I watch horrified as he gets back up.

“Now, did I mention that I know a witch? You’re gonna have to hit me a lot harder than that.”

Bonnie shoots him back again and just like before he gets back up, “By all means if you kill this body. I’ll just get a new one. Maybe Jeremy.”

Bonnie turns back to both of us and yells at us to go, all three of us sprint down the halls. Our heels squeaking on the newly washed floors. We run to the end of the hallway and Damon comes rushing towards us. 

“What happened?”

Elena is the first to speak, “Klaus is in Alaric’s body.”

“What?”

“He’s possessing it. Or something.” What has my life come to?

Damon turns to Elena and I, “Go find Stefan, Now!”

We nod and Elena grabs my hand as we run through the halls to find Stefan. 

We get to the gym and Elena and I frantically search around, we split up as we go to separate sides of the gym. How hard is it to find a bunny-eating vampire? Thankfully I get a glimpse of hero hair and I run up to him. At the sight of me, Stefan's eyebrows furrow, “What’s wrong?”

“No time to talk, teenage witch to save,” I grab his suit sleeve and drag him to where I see Elena talking with Caroline and Matt. Elena runs over to us and we drag Stefan out of the gym. 

We begin running but my breathing starts to get heavier and heavier, making me stop and clutch my chest. Not this again. Please not now!

“Y/N what’s wrong?”

Elena comes to my side but I push her away, “I’m fine you need to go help Bonnie,” She shares a look with Stefan who doesn’t look convinced that I’m ok.

“Go!”

They both nod and then take off. Once they turn the corner and are out of sight I drop to the floor and lean my back against the lockers. I fight back a cry as waves of pain wash through my entire body. Where before it was just my chest, now it feels like my entire body is breaking. 

Tears stream down my cheeks as a sharp pain hits my knee and a scream escapes my lips. I look down at it expecting it to be broken but visually nothing seems wrong. What the fuck is happening to me?!

After what feels like an hour I hear footsteps come down the hallway. With tear-stricken eyes, I glance up and see Stefan practically carrying a sobbing Elena. The latter practically dives for me once she sees I haven’t left my spot on the floor. I’m about to push her off since her body is pressing into my throbbing knee but what she sobs into my ear has me stopping.

“She’s dead! Bonnie’s dead,” Elena's shoulders shake as she pulls me tighter into a hug. My gaze looks up to Stefan who won’t meet my eyes and that’s all the confirmation I need for a sob to escape from my mouth. I wrap my sore arms around Elena and feed into the pain since it’s the only thing grounding me from processing what has happened. 

—

Elena and I sit wrapped in a blanket as we watch the fireplace in front of us. Elena’s sniffles are the only noise heard in the room. My crying stopped about 30 minutes ago and all I’ve been doing since is staring blankly at the orange flames. 

Stefan enters the room with two cups and he holds them out for us to take. Elena tells him she can’t, but I don’t even move my eyes from the fire. I can’t. I don’t want to drink whatever soothing tea he has, I want to watch something burn. Or someone, Klaus. I want to watch Klaus burn. 

From behind me I can hear the front door open and can only assume it’s Damon. I can hear Elena get up and start arguing with him but I don’t turn from my seat. The sound of a slap jolts me slightly from my stupor and I find myself turning slightly to hear better, but never fully taking my eyes away from the flames.

“You need to listen to me and prepare for what I’m about to say. Klaus was a total surprise. She wasn’t prepared for that. And he wasn’t going to stop and we weren’t going to be able to stop him until he knew she was dead. He had to believe it. She cast a spell. Bonnie’s okay.”

—

Bonnie’s okay. Bonnie’s okay. Bonnie’s okay. 

Damon’s words repeat in my mind as Elena and I sit in front of the laptop screen waiting. After another moment Bonnie’s face enters the frame and she smiles at us with tears in her eyes.

“Elena, Y/n, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Elena says with tears of her own and I smile at Bonnie.

“There wasn’t enough time to tell you,” Bonnie says with sobs that make my chest cave in.

“It’s okay, seriously. Damon explained it all.” 

The call ends shortly and Elena smiles at me happily, as she throws her arms over my shoulder and once again pulls me into a hug.

“She’s okay,” Her happy words should fill me up with feelings of bliss but as my gaze moves towards the dying embers the only feeling I have is anger. 

[random-writer-23]

how about logan giving you a facial?

~~~18+ MDNI, oral sex (m receiving), he's a headpusher, I'm rattling the bars of my enclosure actually~~~

I knew the kind of night I was in for when I heard the door slam shut when Logan got home, I sat in the living room my eyes fixed on the tv as a show droned on in the background, I wasn’t paying much attention to it anymore. Not when I could practically feel the anger and stress radiating from him.  I hear his work shoes thunk as they hit the floor after he takes them off carelessly tossing them aside on our hardwood floor. He groans and I finally see him emerge from the hallway, the tiredness in his eyes unmistakable, and yet as soon as he saw me sitting on the couch he smiled wide, even though it was slightly strained I knew he was happy to see me. 

“Hey pretty girl” he murmured kissing the top of my head as he sat himself next to me on the couch, wrapping his arm around me and pulling me into his side, breathing in my scent and instantly relaxing against me. 

“Long day?” I ask softly and he reaches down rubbing his hand on my thigh.

“Yeah you could say that” he grunts sighing heavily, leaning his head against mine as we both look toward the TV watching some mindless sitcom play out, even though he was relaxed against me I could still tell his body was riddled with tension, I wanted to help him relax a bit, get rid of some of the tension and stress that courses through his veins. “Hey baby?” He says his voice a low growl, and I know what’s coming next. 

“Hmm?” I hum softly, and he chuckles lightly. 

“I’m a little tense right now… be a doll and help me out” He says quietly running his fingers through my hair, he smiles at me hopefully and I can’t say no, not when he’s been at work all day, not when I want to take care of him. 

“Mmm fine” I say teasingly and he grins pulling me in for a kiss, dragging me away from his side so I’m straddling his lap, he breathes in deeply as he kisses me smiling against my lips and I pull away to laugh. 

“You’re so beautiful” he murmurs tucking a piece of my hair behind my ear, and I smile. 

“So you’ve said” I tease and he rolls his eyes frowning.

“Don’t be a brat” he grumbles trying to keep the stoic look on his face. I just laugh leaning in for another kiss which he eagerly accepts his lips meeting mine almost desperate for a taste, he bites my bottom lip and I part my lips granting him access, he groans against me, and I feel him growing hard beneath me. He grips my hip tight, breathing deeply before weaseling his hands under my shirt trailing them up towards my breasts. His hands stop when they reach their desired destination and he pulls away from my lips to grin at me. “No bra?” He tsks and cups my tits under my shirt squeezing them tightly, running my his finger teasingly over my nipple, and I whine, as he eagerly tugs on my shirt casting it aside. “Look at you” he growls leaning in taking a nipple in his mouth letting his tongue circle it biting gently before repeating the process on the other one. I moan arching into his touch, my hands gripping tight to his hair, and he lets one of his hands fall to the small of my back pulling me tighter against him, before letting my breast go with a soft pop. “Let’s see if the bottoms match” he says squeezing his fingers into the waistband of my shorts feeling for any panties. I pull my hands away from his hair resting them on his hands pulling them away, shaking my head. 

“No baby, I’m taking care of you tonight” I murmur kissing him again and he grumbles his protests against my lips, as I pull away sliding down off his lap till I’m kneeling on the floor and his protests quiet down. His fiery gaze follows me as I sink down in front of him my hands sliding down his chest till they rest on his belt buckle. I tug on it undoing it and pulling it out his belt loops, bending my head lower to kiss at his clothed erection. He growls tilting his head back letting it fall back onto the couch, and his fingers weave into my hair pushing my face down against his bulge. 

“C’mon baby don’t tease” he huffs and I giggle,reaching up to undo the button of his pants. 

“Fine just cause you’ve had such a hard day…” I smile and he lifts his hips fumbling with his pants desperately, pulling them down just enough to pull his dick out. I lick my lips as his rigid cock smacks lightly against his stomach. I take it in my hand stroking it lightly and he groans breathlessly his eyes closing and he weaves his fingers through my hair. I grin leaning forward to lick up his happy trail as I stroke his cock, before sitting back on my feet, running my tongue along the tip of his dick licking up his precum groaning softly at the taste, he shudders under my touch, tugging on my hair lightly making me look up at him my tongue dangling out my mouth, he looks down at me his gaze heavy.

“I said don’t tease” he growls, and I shiver at the sound looking up at him as I wrap my lips around the head of his cock, his eyebrows furrow and his grip on my hair tightens, his lips parting as he exhales slowly. “That’s my good girl” he rumbles lightly pushing my head further onto his cock, I let him push me down until he hits the back of my throat and I gag. “Almost took the whole thing baby” he says pulling my head up and pushing me down again, thrusting his hips slowly to help me get him off. I hollow my cheeks sucking lightly, and he grunts closing his eyes as he thrusts into my mouth, pushing my head all the way down my nose touching his happy trail, I gag as he pushes my head down keeping there for a few seconds before tugging on my hair pulling me up off his cock. I gasped for breath looking up at him, drool dribbling down my chin landing on his thighs. He looks down at me his pupils blown wide, and I take his dick back in my mouth running my tongue along the prominent vein on the side, bringing my hand up to delicately massage the heavy balls adorning him. “Oh that’s it baby” he mutters petting my head softly, I bring my hand back up to his cock gripping it gently letting it run up and down his length as my mouth does the rest of the work, I can hear his breath getting heavier. “Fucking hell baby” He grunts, “Just a little more…” He moans, his chest stuttering as it rises and falls, his grip on my hair tightening before abruptly pulls my mouth away from his cock, angling my head up. “Tongue out babygirl” He pants using his other hand to fist his cock desperately, I whine obediently sticking my tongue out keeping my mouth open. “Such a good listener pretty girl” He grunts, and he lets out a strangled gasp, I close my eyes and the warm feeling of his cum hits my face, he gasps and I moan feeling it hit my tongue. The warmth spreads across my face as he aims covering my face in his cum. He gasps and breathes heavily. “Fuck baby” He chuckles and I finally open my eyes bringing my tongue back in my mouth to swallow what he gave me. I moan at the taste and I see him bring out his phone, he looks at me and I nod. He grins aiming the camera towards me taking a picture of me. “Youre so fucking beautiful” He groans. 

“So you’ve said” I giggle, and he rolls his eyes, he tucks his cock away and grabs my hands helping me off the floor. 

“Don’t be a brat, baby” he chuckles, kissing the top of my head. “C’mon let’s get you cleaned up” He murmurs softly, and I nod letting him lead me to the bathroom. 

[murdrdocs]

gif so no one can ask me who benny is fingering; public sex; all consensual; MDNI 18+ w/ BENNY (the bikeriders)

benny has his hand resting over the fly of your jeans.

you're staring at it, your gaze locked on the scar sitting between his fingers. you run your eyes down to his short fingernails before you flick back up to stare at benny.

he's smiling at you, waiting for your response.

when it comes, you say his name like a warning. to him, it's a coo.

"what're you doing?"

he's still smiling at you, even when you tilt your head and squint your eyes at him.

at first, he doesn't respond. you feel tension down at the button of your pants and you glance down just in time to see him easily push the silver button through the loop. he waits for a second, but eventually he slides the zipper down through the teeth until your jeans hang open, giving both of you a glimpse at your red panties.

his fingers tease below the elastic waistband. "do you want me to stop?"

you glance up at him, weighing the possibilities. you worry your teeth over your bottom lip, uncaring about your lipstick since most of it has been rubbed off on benny's lips at this point anyway.

it's embarrassing how quick you come to an answer, your head shaking until benny leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead. he does the same to the tip of your nose, and then finally on your lips.

“say the word and you know i will.”

you nod, spreading your legs enough to give him the go ahead. but the hesitance is clear within you. even when benny has his fingers slipped between your lips, rubbing through your arousal as he slides down to your entrance, he can see the way you’re hesitating.

“don’t worry bout them.” he kisses your jaw. “they’re not gonna do nothing to you. won’t even look this way. you know why?”

his fingers dig far up into you. your eyes close, your head tilting back until the crown thuds against the freshly painted wall. you can still smell the fumes, reminding you of when one of the guys from the club stuck their fist into this very wall.

shockingly, there’s not much violence tonight. but the night is still young.

benny hums so close to your ear that you can hear the vibrations. he wants you to speak, but you can’t speak, and he knows this.

“c'mon answer me.” you can hear the smile in his tone.

shamefully, your head turns to the side. but he chases you, warm breath the scent of alcohol fanning against your cheek as the tip of his nose pokes into your nostril.

“do you know why?” he annunciates, making sure you hear each syllable.

eventually, you gather the strength. “why?”

“because you’re with me.”

and you hate it, but he’s right. you hate that he rides. you hate that he’s a biker. but the very thing that you hate about him is the thing that keeps you safe.

you could pretend to hate that he's doing this to you here, and not in the bed you keep warm for him. but really, you hate that you like it. you like the split on his lip and the grease staining his shirt. you like the rough callouses on the tips of his fingers as they rub into you.

you claim to hate this lifestyle, yet you’re still here, willingly by his side, willingly letting him defile you in the corner of the vandals’ bar where anyone could watch.

but when you glance over his shoulder, just a small peek of curiosity, you see no one watching. a pretty girl is being finger fucked and no one is batting an eye. because you’re benny’s pretty girl.

benny increases the pace of his fingers until he’s driving up into you at a pace that you know is audible. luckily, the usual commotion covers everything. including your moans as you get closer and closer.

“close?” benny asks you, his chest rattling against your hand where you have it rested. you nod, breathless and resisting the urge to hike your leg over benny’s hip.

“let go for me and i’ll buy you a drink, okay?” he was gonna buy you a drink anyway, that’s a given. you were gonna cum anyway, too, but you’re spurred to do so quicker whenever he sweetens the deal.

“and after that drink, we can go home and do the same thing there, alright?”

[kyracooneyx23]

Maybe in Another Life

Leah Williamson

sumarry: you and Leah broke up three years ago and your seeing each other for the first time since, but you find yourself regretting letting her go

warnings: angsty, not really a happy ending

'calm down honey.' Keira mutters walking beside you, looping her arm through yours as Georgia walks on the other side of you rubbing your shoulder comfortingly.

You chew on your bottom lip anxiously, watching your feet as the three of you walk along the cobbled footpath. 'It's not that easy, I'm seeing her after what... 3 years? I can't just calm down!'

Georgia rolls her eyes and even though your looking at the ground you can still sense Keira glaring at her. 'It's you're first time seeing us in three years as well.' She says softly trying, but failing, to calm your nerves.

You look up at her elbowing Georgia when she laughs at your stoic expression. 'It's different with you, last time I checked you never asked me to marry you.'

Georgia wiggles her eyebrows, lips curving into a smirk. 'Marry me?'

'Fuck of Stanway.'

Leah and her new wife were holding a party of some kind and had invited most of the lionesses and their friends from outside the sport. You didn't want to go at all and had deleted the invitation but then Keira called and insisted you go with her and Georgia. They had both tried to keep in contact with you, trying to find dates where you could catch up but you always lied and said you were busy or sick and although they probably didn't believe you they stopped trying.

But you and Leah hadn't spoken since that day, and as much as it hurt it was better that way.

You all stop suddenly, standing in front of a nice white fence that caged a beautiful front garden with flowers neatly growing everywhere which you thought was strange considering all plants normally died in the shitty England weather.

Georgia and Keira begin to walk forward opening the nice gate and continuing towards the front door only stopping once they realise you're not with them anymore. Keira's the first to notice turning around with confusion. 'What are you... oh. Y/n?'

Her face softens when she sees you frozen in place and biting you're cuticles, anxiety shown through your expression. She sighs walking back towards you and gently grabbing your hand to bring it away from your mouth intertwining your fingers. 'It's gonna be fine so just act normal. You ended on a good note right?'

'Right.' you mutter trying to hide the shake of uncertainty in your voice.

'But, um...' She sighs raking her hands roughly through her hair and her noise crinkling as though she doesn't know how to say what she's about to say. 'There's something I should've told you before, but I didn't want to you stress over it.'

'What?' you ask stepping back, knowing by the way she's acting the news can't be good. You're unsure if you can hear bad news right now.

The apprehension and fear in your tone causes Keira to wince and you can see Georgia also looking uncomfortable in the background. She takes in a deep breath bracing herself to break the news to you. 'Leah and her new wife, they... they've had a baby.'

The silence between the three of you feels suffocating as your trying to comprehend what you've just heard. And once you do a pang of hurt rushes through your body and you just want to turn around and leave.

You don't though and you just stand there starstruck not even realising the small 'oh' that escapes your lips.

You try to hide it acting as though this isn't affecting you, but you know your failing. Kiera's hand rests on your shoulders, giving you a comforting squeeze that only makes you feel worse. 'Sweet, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have...'

there is no time for the midfielder to finish her sentence as the door flies open and a beaming Leah stands there. Georgia sends you a sheepish smile and you realise she must've rung the doorbell, but you have no time to hold a grudge against her as your interrupted by the familiar voice of your ex-girlfriend.

'Kei,' she beams, pulling her best friend into a hug, moving into a position where you can look at her better. She looked just like you remembered, neat bleach blonde hair, tone biceps and that bloody grin that made you weak at the knees. But despite the similarities in her appearance there was something about her that just felt different, the way she pulled Keira into a hug no longer was with such force instead it was gentle a trait you assumed she picked up from being around a baby.

They pulled apart a moment later, Leah moving to give Georgia a hug whilst your frozen only moving your eyes to watch her. Then finally she looks at you her smile dimming a little but still there all the same. 'y/n, hey.'

She hesitates, staying in place for a while before moving closer and giving you a hug too.

'Hi.' you mumble as she wraps her warm, strong arms around you and as soon as your in her embrace you feel an ache in your heart at the action that used to be so common in your life but hasn't been there for years.

Perhaps Leah was also reminiscing, as her grip tightened and she held you for longer than she had with either Keira or Georgia. It makes you miss the way you used to wake up every morning with hugs from her. You no longer had someone to hug, living alone and far away from your family.

You try to convince yourself thats the reason you hold onto the blonde for longer than necessary was because you missed and craved human touch, even though you knew it probably wasn't.

After a long time you both pull away, arms dropping back to your sides simultaneously and a small smile reappears on her face, you force a matching on onto your face to try and remove some of the tension from the air.

'So,' she starts, leading the three of you into the house 'how've you been Y/n?'

You want to tell her the truth, that you've not been the same since she left but you knew that wasn't going to do anything good so instead you say; 'good, busy but good. You?'

Leah nods. 'Good to hear. I've been good, busy as well with football, settling into the new house and the baby.' It seems she only realises what she's said after it comes out of her mouth and she scratches her neck awkwardly looking at the floorboards.

georgia nudges you discreetly in the side to respond.

'Yeah, um... congrats on the baby.'

Leah returns eye contact, and you can tell she's read you and can hear the sadness in your voice so you shoot her a smile to prove that you mean it, to prove that it didn't feel like someone was stabbing you in the heart everytime the word baby was brought up. It clearly isn't genuine enough though as her eyes soften hinting that she can tell how your feeling. But she still gives you a grateful smile, no more words being said as you're led into the living room.

Only then does it click that the house is too quiet for a house that's meant to be hosting a party.

'You guys are like an hour early. you're the only ones here yet.' Leah tells you as though she could read your mind.

You turn around and glare at keira who tilts her head towards Georgia who whistles and pretends to not be paying attention. You'd make sure to let her know how you feel later.

Leah goes off to grab drinks for everyone, leaving you alone to look around the house. It's decorated like one of the houses you see in magazines, a minimalistic aesthetic with white couches and pale green rugs and beige pillows. It was pretty but nothing like what you'd expect Leah's house to be like, her old apartment that the two of you had shared had been decorated with posters and pictures everywhere, full of life unlike this place.

If you didn't know you'd think that an elderly couple lived here, the only hint of difference was the dummy on the table, a play mat hidden beside the couch and small pictures of Leah and her family. Her new family.

You don't realise that Leah's been watching you a small smile dancing on her lips 'You like?'

Leah knows you wouldn't like it, she felt almost two faced bringing you into this house. She felt like she was showing you a side of her that wasn't the Leah you'd known. This was the complete opposite to who she was and who you were, you were the person who begged her to let you put up even more pictures, fairy lights and posters than there already were in her apartment when you moved in with her which she pretended she didn't want but in reality she loved it, yet here you were standing in a house that even Leah sometimes felt like a stranger in.

'It's really nice Leah, simple but pretty.' You say softly.

'baby.' Another women bustles into the living room, she's got a bottle in one hand and is balancing a baby on her hip. She gasps when she looks up and sees you, Keira and Georgia.

She goes around giving them all hugs and greeting them but your to caught up in how perfect she is, how her smile lights up the room and how easy she makes it look to have a baby, that you don't notice when she comes over and hugs you only realising when she speaks. 'You must be Y/n, Leah's talked about you before.'

You'd expected her to be exhausted from having to look after the baby when Leah has football like you'd thought it would be, but she looked like she had endless amounts of energy. Leah really did find the perfect girl for her. A sad smile makes its way onto your face, your happy for Leah but you wish that you'd tried harder and that things could've worked out between you.

It takes a moment to register why everyone in the rooms eyes are trained on you, then you realise you still haven't responded. 'yeah... only good things I hope.' You say rubbing your neck anxiously not liking the way that she's smiling at you, and the laugh that escapes her lips.

You get caught up again, not registering her leading you to the couch and offering you a glass of water. You don't remember declining and then asking what the babies name is only snapping out of your trance when the word 'Lily,' registers in your head. The beautiful baby girl with Leah's blue eyes and it's mums brown hair was called Lily.

Would you have named your baby Lily? Probably not, it was too simple for you. But you couldn't change that, you couldn't change anything. You were too late to pick out names and choose a nicer more homey house with Leah.

You'd blown your chances that stupid night when Leah had come home from training and you'd had a nice home-made dinner, then watched a movie on the couch together...

Leah's hands fidgeted with the rings on your fingers, twisting them around and paying more attention to them than the movie she had chosen you to watch. 'One day, I'm going to put a ring on this finger.' She whispered playing with you ring finger that was still bare unlike your others.

'Yeah?' You hummed lightly trying to ignore the fact that your heart was racing excitedly and a grin was automatically growing on your face from the thought of getting to spend the rest of your life with Leah.

'We're gonna live in a nice cosy house, with our dogs and children and...'

Children?

You didn't want children, you didn't think you were ready for that yet and you were scared something would go wrong and even if something didn't Leah would always be busy with soccer meaning that you'd have to look after them a lot, you'd be tired and exhausted and then you'd get grumpy and you'd snap at Leah and Leah wouldn't want an angry wife so she'd leave you. You began panicking at the thought of it and you didn't even mean to say what you said outloud. 'I don't want children Le.' Then it all went downhill, She dropped your hand and the smile vanished from her face, replaced with an angry frown.

It turned into an argument, you'd both been screaming at each other, Leah couldn't understand why you feared it, the pain of pregnancy and the exhaustion of motherhood. But you weren't blameless for the break up either, you'd called her nasty things that you'd regretted the minute it came out of your mouth. You accused her of not loving you, even though thats all she did until you both decided it was over.

Georgia's arm around your shoulder brings you back to reality you look beside you and see her and Keira nodding absentmindedly at Leah's wife who's rambling about Lily and how difficult she is to put to sleep and how great Leah is at supporting them and...

You feel Leah's eyes burning into you and when you look to her you're correct, she's gazing at you brows pinched in concern and you realise you must've been showing your emotions on your face. But as soon as you make eye contact she look away as her wife holds Lily out for her to carry.

You watch as Leah sits down next to her wife in the armchair, taking Lily between her hands which look massive compared to the small baby. a smile falls on Leah's face as she places a light kiss on the baby's forehead. Only moments later after Lily is settled on her lap do you notice Lily's other mums head fall onto Leah's shoulder.

It was perfect. They were the mot perfect family, with the gorgeous wife and the cutest baby. And Leah the woman that could've been yours if you hadn't screwed up.

It's too much. Georgia notices you tense up and squeezes your hand reassuringly as you start to shake. Lily laughs reaching her small hands up to try and grab Leah's face which breaks into a beam. She leans over and kisses her wife's hair and you picture what it would've been like if that was you instead.

You feel Keira and Georgia's worried gaze on you as you begin fidgeting in your seat. chewing on your lip so hard that you draw blood and the pain brings you back to who you are, not who you could've been.

'You alright.' Georgia murmurs form beside you, but your brain ignores it. the only thing you can focus on is the vision of the perfect family sitting infront of you, tears of regret falling down your cheeks. Keira makes a small noise of pity and Leah's suddenly looks up, eyes widening as she sees you.

'Y/n, are you okay?' Leah asks more firmly than Georgia but still gently. It doesn't matter you don't reply all you can do is look at her with that pained expression on your face. You open your mouth to speak but no words come out. You can't possibly express the heartache you were feeling. You were mourning for the life you could've had if you weren't such a coward.

A frown falls upon Leah's face as she stands up getting closer to you. This brings you back to the present and you suck in a sharp breath.

You can't take this anymore, standing up Georgia's arm falling as she looks up at you in surprise. You brush the tears away as Leah comes to a halt in front of you. 'Y/n, baby...'

'I'm not your baby.'

Leah looks shocked her eyes widening as she realises the words she just said 'fuck, no it just came out. I didn't mean to. Shit, you're crying.'

'It's fine. I'm fine.' You let out but your clearly not the wobble in your voice gives you away. Leah tries to respond but you don't let her, the longer you stand here the harder it will be to heal yourself. You couldn't stand watching Leah with her wife wishing it was you instead. It stung even more because you knew it was your fault, you're stupidity and you're cowardness was to blame.

'I'm fine, I just... I really need to go, send my love to the others.' You pick up your small bag, quickly moving to the front door trying to get away without saying more. But its pointless as Leah's faster than you easily catching up with you even with Lily in her arms.

'Y/n...'

'Bye Leah.' you say halfheartedly hoping she'd get the hint that you were done with the conversation as you lace up your shoes. She comes to stand next to you at the door, rocking from side to side as Lily doses off in her arms. She looks disappointed as you prepare to go.

'I'm sorry.'

You stop your actions, looking up in shock. 'It's not your fault.'

Leah's lips form a tight line, she looked guilt ridden, opening her mouth to say something before quickly shutting it. Finally she sighs, 'it's not your fault either.'

She always knew the right thing to say, the regret that had been filling you up for three years emptied out after hearing those five words. She didn't hold the falling apart of your relationship against you, and that was enough to make you feel slightly better. if you couldn't have her love at least you could have her forgiveness.

You nod giving her a half smile before turning around to leave. You were going back to your place, which was more of a house than a home without someone to share it with. But at least no one could hurt you there except for you. no hearts to be broken and nobody to turn away. no one to love.

'Hey.'

You turn back around to face the door, heart sinking as you see the tears building up in her eyes. You hear the scratchiness in her throat as she draws in a deep breath.

'Leah...' You say not knowing whats happening.

'Please don't say anything. I just wanted to tell you... um.' she defeatedly runs a hand through her hair and exhales shakily 'I wish we could've worked out.'

Your caught off guard, not expecting those words to fall from her lips, your heart squeezes in your chest. Leah looks almost embarrassed as she says it but there's vulnerability in her eyes. You wished you could've worked out as well, you wished you could've been the person who's finger she could've put that ring on. She'd been yours to loose in this life but maybe in another you could've worked out.

You cough clearing your throat, trying to stop the sick feeling in your gut. 'Maybe in another life.'

'Yeah, that sounds nice.' She says but her voice is barely a whisper. You spare yourself one last glance before turning to leave, praying that she couldn't see the tears rolling down your cheeks.

It only takes a few steps before your out of Leah's life. Again

[bouncybongfairy]

Ma’am thank you from the bottom of my heart for the writing the only live action zuko smut on the face of this earth I am surviving on freezer burn. Do you have more live action zuko smut????

Masked Feelings

Prince Zuko x Fem Reader Smut

Summary: High from the adreniline of capturing the Avatar; Zuko fucks you with the blue spirt mask on.

Word Count: 1.0k+

Ref Account: @kaionyx

TW: Masked Man, Rough Smut, Creampie. <3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

You were nervously waiting for Zuko to come back from his mission. He didn’t tell you much about it and it scared you when he left in that mask. Lately he was so down over almost catching the Avatar, eating away at him in such an aggressive way. He was constantly talking down on himself, having angry outbursts over the littlest things. You were cleaning up the small space you were staying in while investigating a lead. There was no point in waiting for Zuko to return because that could be days from now. You’d fallen asleep while reading, jolting awake when you heard the door being slammed open and closed. A blast of cold air rushing in behind him, he was wearing a blue and white mask. You assumed it was Zuko but you couldn’t be sure. 

“Zuko?” you ask; he gave no reaction to this. 

“Zuko.” you called out a little more firm. 

He came closer to you, breathing so hard that his entire upper body would double in size after an inhale. Wearing all black with two swords strapped to his back. He pulled them out and dropped them on the ground. The loud clashing of metal against cement makes you jump. Immediately sitting up, letting your weight hit the head board. He started to take off his gloves and walked towards you. At this point, you weren’t sure what to do. He was scaring the shit out of you and it wasn’t helping that you kinda liked it.

 How dark and demented his energy was. He came up to you, using his thumb to part your lips. He chuckled once he saw the scared and unsure look in your eyes. High off the adrenaline after invading the Pohuai stronghold, he was craving power. Looking for it in every dark corner and shadow; now it was sitting right below him. Looking up with a deer in headlights expression, wearing one of his undershirts. It was freezing in the room and your teeth were chattering. 

“Just that excited? Like a puppy being teased with a treat,” he said, moving his thumb from your lip. 

It slightly infuriated you that he was getting off on how nervous you were. Like he was pulling a side out of you that he knows you’d never show willingly. He trailed his fingers down your throat and to your chest. There was a small hole in the fabric of your shirt, he looped his fingers into the hole and ripped it. Leaving the shreaded fabric draping from your body. You gasp and try to cover yourself but he grabs your wrists. He has never been this rough with you, taking out his frustrations out on your body. 

Legs hanging off the side of the bed, he grabbed a fist full of your hair, near the nape of your neck. Forcing you to look up at him while his hand trailed down. Immediately dip his fingers between your into your wet slit. Circling his finger around your swollen clit. Enjoying how your body was involuntarily reacting to his touch. You could hear him growl, muttering curses from underneath the mask. Tracing your entrance once in a while, teasing like he was going to fill you only to leave you empty and achy. Normally you never thought about how your face looked while drowning in pleasure. Covering your face with a pillow or into the mattress. 

It made you feel so vulnerable, knowing he was getting his pleasure from watching you squirm and shake. You reach your hand up and rub his member through his pants. He leans into your touch, coming close enough to finally slip his two fingers in. His pinky and index fingers on either side of your sex. Fucking the digits in and out, you pressed your forehead against his arm. Letting your mouth hang open, moaning into the fabric of his shirt. 

He pressed his fingers into you and started curling and circling. Looking up at him and seeing the mask was intimidating, which made you avert your gaze. He corrected this and gripped your hair tighter, forcing you to look up. He wanted to see your face as he fucked his fingers in and out of you. Loving how your facial expression would change at the same time your walls tightened around him. 

“Fuck you’re so wet,” he groaned out, pulling his fingers out and slapping your sex. 

He pulled you by the leg towards the edge of the bed. He pulled his pants down, letting his length slap against his lower stomach. Using his tip to part your slit, spreading your wetness onto the head of his cock. Smacking his member against your lips before pushing himself inside. He held onto your legs against himself and began fucking in and out of you. Starting off slow then gradually increasing speed. Little -uhh- sounding moans slipped out of your throat everytime he thrusted into you. His nails digging into the flesh of your thighs. Your wetness was dripping down his legs. You reached up and grabbed the end of his shirt, trying to pull him closer. He pushed your legs down, pressing your thighs against your torso. 

“I wanna see your face while I fuck my cum into you,” he grunted, frantically rutting into you. 

Hearing how rough his voice was sent you over the edge. Arching your back and gripping the bed sheets tightly. He was rutting into you so hard the bed began moving back, he kept stepping forwards. Your face was red, mouth hanging open and the most vulgar sound coming out. Completely worked and worn from taking his cock, seeing you like this makes him cum. 

Keeping himself pressed into you while spilling his load deep inside you. Groaning through the mask once he felt it start leaking out against the base of his cock. Slowly starting to thrust again, enjoying watching you wiggle and squirm from how sensitive you were. Finally pulling out once he went soft, keeping your legs spread to watch his cum leak out of you. Eventually putting his pants back on and arming himself. 

“Where are you going?” you asked.

“I capture the Avatar,” he said walking out.

[dabisbratz]

PENITENCE — leon s. kennedy x male reader

w.c: ~5.3k

warning: sub bottom reader, thigh fucking, spit, standing doggy style, dirty talk, leon’s weak pullout game x2, mixed praise/degradation, oral, choking, sexualizing las plagas, breeding mentions, sir kink, finger hooking, drool, infected leon is a lil mean, dumbification, accidental creampie

a/n: got a loooot of requests for a sequel to this!! so here it is! i hope you enjoy! ૮꒰ ´͈ ˙̫ `͈ Ꮚ꒱ა this fic had a mind of its own!! didn get to write leon as feral as i wanted to but… that’s okay!

You’ve never been shot before. Punched, sure, clean in the jaw in the midst of a training session. It caught you so off guard you nearly swallowed your teeth, and the blood gushing from your nose and coating the pearls tasted like rusty gunmetal. But it really didn’t hurt that bad, you felt more congested than anything.

You've never been shot before. Stabbed, sure, right through the hand until thick blood poured straight out your palm like nature’s greatest waterfall. It wasn’t as sharp as you’d think, not some sort of pinch akin to getting a piercing. No, it was panic first, your eyes trailed down to meet the handle of a hunting knife that cut clean through your palm. Then came the realization, Scorching heat beaming through your hand until it began to tremble. But hand wounds heal fast, you barely remember it.

You’ve never been shot before. Grazed, sure, blasted with the shells of a silver shotgun bullet so hard it seared your skin and left an open-mouthed gash. Your bullet ricocheted off an unknown surface, all because you’d taken it upon yourself to practice your aim alone. But it was just a graze, and so long ago the scar had begun to fade.

So the first time it happens, you’re taken for a loop.

Your legs burn, aching as you trudge beside Leon in his hasty motion up a particularly slippery hill. It’s like you’ve been walking in circles, deeper and deeper into the village but somehow passing the same bloodstained tree. For a man who was over a hundred fifty pounds of sheer force and willpower, he sure was light on his toes. Had there not been moisture from previous nights’ rain still lingering in the air you're sure it’d be easier— no mud to slip on, no pockets of rainwater that looked much more shallow than they actually were— but it lingers.

And it’s not just that, there’s an everlasting tremor in your thighs as you walk, you can barely take a few steps without your movements stuttering. You can’t excuse it as a pulled muscle, not when Leon’s been forcing you to sit back and observe. Though it’s partially his fault, you deduce, because you can see the growing pride in his stride as he listens to your trip over your own feet. Almost like it was a mission, fuck the rookie until he cries and let him walk for himself.

Asshole.

You can’t stop talking, not when your brain is working overtime and you have so many questions. Though it’s not entirely clear if he’s listening, Leon’s body subconsciously teeters in your direction, almost like he’s trying to collect your body heat. He’s certainly done that, that and much more. He’s stolen the air from your lungs with a heavy kiss, he’s collected the sounds of your moans and sealed them in a jar.

You spare him a heavy glance, watching the muscles in his back ripple as he marches through the thickening mud. You wish you’d gotten the chance to see him without it, to card your fingers through the strong fabric as he pulls his shirt over his head and balls it up in his veiny fists. To watch his hair fall, golden bundles framing his face and falling back into place like magic, nearly swept over his eye and so unabashedly Leon.

“Would you stop staring at me?” There’s a playful edge to his voice, teetering around the edges as he blows a bullet straight through the frail neck of an infected resident. You’re too focused on the nape of his neck to watch it explode, an amalgamation of blood and arteries and fat splattering onto the ground and surrounding houses. “I mean, if you want a picture all you have to do is ask.”

You can tell he’s somehow watching you through the corner of his gunmetal gray eyes, with your blatant staring, but he doesn’t seem to have much on the tip of his tongue besides a few smartmouthed remarks. Maybe he has eyes behind his full head of hair.

“Ha-ha, very funny.” You purse your lips, tightening your grip around the flashlight paving the way forward.

Truthfully, you’d underestimated just how much cardio and legwork it took to navigate this village— sure, the implication of missing hikers in the area meant there’d be a trail to hike, but in your head it was much more akin to training. Controlled, steep hills that didn’t continue on as far as the eye can see, an obstacle course that had an obtainable goal— it feels like you’re wandering aimlessly.

But Leon’s with you, so surely that can’t be right.

You wonder how much preparation and time he took into this, how many nights of sparring turned into considering your presence under the same blanket of stars, how often he made things with you in mind. Even if it’s just for a mission.

Quite frankly, it was all the time. Thinking of you put an indescribable amount of weight on his chest, it capsized his shoulders, so feathery light, and yet somehow still managed to put strain on his posture. He was always so laid back, cracking jokes and likable by definition. Yet there he stood, second guessing his abilities in protecting you, having you, wooing you. Ashley is his priority. . . but you’re his partner.

And he wants more.

“Leon?” Apprehension builds in your voice, Leon’s steady stride suddenly broken as he looks down at his hands. You bump right into him, colliding face-first into his body. His back is just as sturdy as it looks, barely jolting as you peek around to look at his handsome face.

His veins are turning black, coiling up his wrists from his hands, inky black streaks that branch off up his forearm and disappear under his shirt. Even the thicker veins decorating his bicep— they’ve become an ugly charcoal that looks entirely too unnatural. Painful. As if leeches have burrowed themselves under his skin, the intrusion crawls further into his bloodstream as small, deep grunts escape from his lips.

You still have yet to ask what happened during your separation— after you ran. But, in a way, you’ve got your answer.

“You with me, Lee?” You search his face for something, anything, under the furrowed brows and clenched teeth. His jaw sets, characteristically rigid, which is a generous start. Somewhere beneath the icy blue of his eyes you see recognition, like he’s not exactly looking at you, but he knows you’re there. Lucid enough. Good.

But without Leon leaving a path of bodies for you to walk over, you have to take over and pave the way.

“I’m gonna take your gun, okay?” It’s rhetorical, whether he likes it or not, because he took your gun away before you truly had the chance to use it— and it’s not entirely like he’s in the position to be making demands. You wish you could laugh about it, let a boyish smile wiggle its way across your face, but without Leon there to laugh with you… there’s no point.

And, like most instances, you find yourself jumping into action before you can think, dragging every pound of steel Leon has to offer through the village until you can find somewhere safe. It happens all too fast. One moment, you’re holding onto the pistol while wrapping an arm around Leon’s waist, blowing holes through the infected like you were made for it, watching their bodies topple to the ground in a lifeless display. Then. . .

“Fuck, oh fuck, fuckfuckfuck,” Your heart plummets into your stomach, you can’t help but think you’ve swallowed a bomb. Your blood is cold on your slick skin, flowing down your bicep like sort of fucked up waterfall. It’s thick and sticky, a rich shade of red that only seems to get darker and darker as it pours from your arm. You can’t help but call for your partner, tightening your grip on his waist. “Leon…”

Getting grazed is not the same.

There’s a similar burn, but this time it’s from the outside-in and back out again. Like you’ve been stung by a swarm bees, all at the same time, and in the same exact spot.

It happened so fast, threw you for a loop, the metal of an axe bounced your bullet right back at you, and landed right through your arm.

Your eyes widen, jittery as Leon parts his legs, planting his boots into the mud in a futile attempt at staying upright. Selfless as ever, the blond just can’t seem to sit still when he knows someone he cares about is in danger.

His dusty pink lips are curled into a snarl, one of his veiny hands clasped over your own; fisting at the bunched up fabric by his waist. His eyes, previously clenched shut, are no longer a brilliant shade of blue— they’ve turned yellow, bright like a citrusy candy. His face, still as handsome as before, is adorned with streaky, black veins that cluster near his left cheekbone and disappear into his cheeks. Instinctively, you raise your arm to swipe away his hair in a half-assed attempt at consolation, but the movement burns before you can put away your pistol.

Leon’s eyes flicker to your bicep, watching the red ooze from the inflamed bullet-shaped hole. His gaze darkens, something you can’t quite grasp flashing in his eyes as he takes the gun from your hand and pushes you behind him.

“Leon—”

“Move! Now!” His voice is much deeper than before— still buttery smooth, just dropping in octaves as he yells into the night air. You don’t have to be told twice, stumbling in the mud as he pushes you in the general direction of an abandoned house. In a perfect world you’d use your knife to help, but something tells you sticking around would just worsen the situation for everyone.

So you rush into the house, bursting through the creaky door as gunshots ring behind you. Almost as loud as the static in your ears, buzzing as you search for a closed off room.

The house is empty, fairly sized— equipped with a staircase that leads upstairs. Bedrooms, you presume, since there are only bathrooms and living spaces on the first floor. The floorboards whine and groan under your weight, tracking mud as you keep your hand clasped over your bicep. It probably won’t make much of a difference now, but the bleeding has subsided into thick clots, which momentarily lightens your mood.

You don’t have much on you, it’s best to travel light when you have places to be— heavy backpacks can weigh you down. But you do have a few bandages and travel-sized disinfectant wipes. You can only help Leon effectively if you help yourself first— you’re dead weight if you go back out there dipped in blood— so you get to work.

It’s hasty, messy, and unorganized, but you get it done. Your bicep is wrapped snug, with enough pressure to support your arm without cutting off any circulation. It’s the best you can do for now, with the panic and anxiety blooming in your throat. It burns like bile, attacking your senses until all you can think of is Leon. The look on his face, the sounds of his pained grunts, the veins darkening beneath his skin.

As if he’s heard you, your silent prayers for his presence in its entirety, he crashes through the door. It squeals on its hinges, slamming shut behind him as his heavy boots collide with the wooden floorboards. You can’t quite make out anything else, just the sound of his shoes as he walks through the hall, and into the bathroom.

Maybe it’s just a hunch, an inference, but there’s irritation floating between his steps. You can feel it radiating off him despite not exactly being near him. The sound of poorly running water emits from the small room, muffled through the door, along with a steadier stream of swears.

“Leon?” You ask, pushing yourself off the wooden diningroom chair with the support of your unwounded arm. Would it be best to give him some space? But that’s not really an option, not with what you witnessed. Not with that intrusion trying to take over his body. “I’m coming in.”

Nearly tripping over the red rug decorating the hallway between the bathroom and living spaces, you clumsily open the bathroom door. Just Leon— sitting on the wide ledge of the bathroom’s squat toilet, his gun discarded on the opposing mantel. You can’t see his face, not with his hair casting silky shadows along the expanse of it, but you can picture his tight lipped expression just fine.

The thought makes heat burst through your skin. Nowhere near as painful as a gunshot wound. This time it’s comforting and sweet, it makes your legs feel like jelly and your heart like jam.

“Ocupado,” He sounds rather proud of himself for that one, readjusting his spot on the ledge. The blond lifts his gaze, shades of blue overcasting the previous yellow hues that once clouded his vision. “How do you feel..Your arm..?”

You should be asking him that.

“I’m good,” You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, the strain of your shoulders dissipating into the air the longer you look at him. “You know me. Are you…okay?”

Perhaps ‘okay’ isn’t the word for it. You want to ask if he feels weird, if the deepening of his veins bothers him. What it felt like when he was rendered unconscious. When you felt it— tied to that damned cross— it wasn’t nearly as bad as Leon. In fact, it didn't hurt you at all. You didn’t even notice until the entirety of your arms were decorated in pure, black branches.

“Yeah,” He blinks, not once removing his gaze from the curl of your lips. Still so shiny and wet, soft as they curl with every vowel and syllable that leaves them. He swallows hard, audible as his adam’s apple bobs in his throat. Your eyes trace the small mole just below it, the way his throat bulges. “I’m okay. For the most part.”

He doesn’t seem entirely there, lifting himself up wordlessly until he’s crashing into you, his large, gloved hand finding a place around your neck as he pulls you into a kiss.

The bathroom isn’t an ideal place to do it, though you suppose you two don’t have a clean track record of kissing in the best places. He swallows the air from your lungs, deep and gentle as his lips melt into yours. He tastes just like he did a few hours, just slightly saltier. He tastes like you, you’re still heavy on his tongue and it seems he’s hooked on your flavor.

His tongue is silky, messy in your mouth as you try your hardest to absorb his heat. His mouth is so warm, so wet, and you can’t help but whimper when he pulls away. You want to chase it, that heat, so you can’t help yourself when you follow after his lips.

Oh.

Leon’s eyes— they’re red, and the impossibly dark streaks under his skin are somehow darker.

“Your—”

“I wanna fuck you so bad,” It leaves his lips before the both of you have time to process it. He’s much more surprised than you, pink roses blooming on the apples of his cheeks despite the clear obstruction of his body. You appreciate the honesty, clearing your throat to mask the laugh bubbling in your chest. Leon’s okay, and he’s not just saying it. “…Sorry.”

Leon’s red-eyed gaze is casted to the side, but even in his efforts to avoid looking at you, he can’t help himself. It’s cute, really, charming enough to have your heart doing somersaults in your chest.

“Then do it.”

Blue embers sparkle in his eyes, and suddenly you’re being pulled out the cramped bathroom. Whatever he’s infected with, it’s heightened his abilities, because his grip on your wrist feels just as strong as the rusty chains in the cathedral. He’s holding onto you like you’ll disappear if he doesn’t, an iron grip that feels more comfortable than painful. And through it all, he’s cautious of your injury.

It doesn’t stop him from slapping you against the wall, your back colliding with the old, peeling wallpaper with a loud thud.

“You’re sure—” You start, the words catching in your throat when Leon’s strong hands tear your shirt apart, straight through the middle. The cold air hits you instantly, sending shivers up your spine as you whine in protest. “I only have one shirt!”

“I have a jacket.” His answer is barely audible, as he’s too busy watching the rise and fall of your chest with hungry, predatory eyes. You’re looking at Leon, who has every feature of the man. . . But he feels different. He feels bigger, in every sense of the word, towering over you as his red eyes study you like a bloodthirsty shark.

Next are your pants, you take the liberty of unbuckling your utility belt, keeping your gaze on Leon as he watches your hands pull them down. A considerate patch of sticky wetness decorates the front of your boxers, darkening and dampening the fabric. Leon’s pink tongue slides over his equally pink lips, whatever restraint he’s using slowly slipping away. You expect him to follow suit, but his hands are on you and he’s guiding you down to your knees.

Your face nuzzles against the fabric of his pants, thick but nowhere near as thick as his cock, which has a prominent, twitching outline.Your mouth waters, saliva pooling between your lips as your eyes flutter shut and he presses your cheek against his dick, firm and rough. His hands are so big, cupping the back of your head as he releases a small, hushed groan.

Leon watches you unzip his pants with parted lips and a baited breath. You look so damn pretty, eyes glazed over within the matter of a few seconds and a stupid look in your eye the second you see his dick again. Like you’ve missed it, when it was only just a few hours ago when he was buried deep inside you. He lets you push his pants down to his ankles, your eyes roaming along the skin of his toned thighs, which black vines slowly creep down.

You press a pretty, openmouthed kiss against the head of his cock, watching precum bead at the tip and smear across your lips. Such a sweet boy, kissing his cock as a greeting.

“Goddamn, you’re so cute,” His grip travels down your face to the top of your neck, where your throat meets your jaw. Your gaze is forced upward, straight into Leon’s vermillion irises as he offers a small squeeze. “Just a little slut. Aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“Mhm, yeah,” You pant against his skin, shimmying forward to grind your front against the leather of his boot. “For you— just for you, Sir.”

Yeah, you could get used to this. The girth of his cock, the vein that disappears beneath the pretty head of his dick, the way his balls weigh heavily against your chin. His pubes are a deeper shade of brown, slightly curly and enough that makes you want to bury your nose in it. He’s so sticky, slick and wet like he’s been thinking about this for a while. The thought of Leon gripping himself through his pants is just so hot, the way he’d buck up into his fist and imagine it’s you instead. The way he’d groan and moan into the air, chasing after some artificial tightness that could only simulate you. Your mouth, your hole.

“Think you can be a good boy for me?” You chase after his cock as he pulls it away, gripping it by the base with a gloved hand. You can only imagine how good the leather of his fingerless gloves feel against it. He coos at your attempts to follow along, meanly slapping the weight of his dick against your cheek until you’re messy with precum. “Hm? Yeah?”

You nod frantically, opening your mouth and covering your bottom row of teeth with your tongue. You can be good, you can be good for Leon.

Tears spring in your eyes the second he’s pushing into your mouth, groaning at the sound of your gags as his cock slides in and out, deeper and deeper without warning. He can’t help it, not when you’re drooling all over his pants and whining for it. Not when you’d look so cute hazy eyed and stained with tears as he fucks your throat. Not when your throat bulges around his cock, letting out wet squelches as you struggle to keep your eyes open and watch his hips snap against you.

“That’s it,” Leon sighs, shaky and content as he holds you in place. His good boy. “Just like that, you take it so—f-hucking—good.”

You lurch back, tears blurry in your eyes as you sputter and gag. His precum is salty and warm, coating your throat as you flutter your eyes and hold onto the swell of Leon’s strong, thick thighs. Heat ripples through your body in waves as a low growl rumbles in his throat, bouncing into your ears.

“Shh, I know, I know. Don’t run from me, let me in,” He coos, sliding his long cock from your mouth to watch a long trail of your spit thin out the further he pulls away. “It’s just too big for you, is that right? Hard to focus on anything when all you can think of is dick.”

You’re breathing heavily, panting loud as you slowly register the mess on your face, your chin. Your lips feel swollen, but your mouth feels empty. You must have a particularly dumb look on your face because it pulls a laugh out of the man in front of you, rich and hearty as he lifts you up with an authoritative hand around your throat.

“C’mere.” He mumbles, pulling you in to pepper messy kisses along your jaw. He’s more impulsive, you gather, with whatever’s coursing through his veins. Rougher too, with the way his hand tightens around your throat when he’s throwing commands at you. You don’t mind it, not at all. In fact, it’s made you all hazy, you feel like you’re traveling through a thick layer of fog as you nod along. You want to be good, to earn his praise.

Leon’s hands travel to your waist, dipping into the plush skin until your thighs are spread just far enough for his cock to fit between them. You’ve never felt so exposed, whining high in your throat no matter how pathetic it sounds, and pressing your body against his firm chest.

His cock feels as big as it looks, long and curved as he slides it between your thighs. You can feel every twitch and pulse, you’re sure he can feel you too— with how he’s grunting and groaning against your neck. He fucks into your thighs like he’s chasing after something, trying to satiate it. His grip is punishing, the pads of his fingertips digging into your skin until it hurts.

“I can’t,” You whine, shaking your head as you watch his cock disappear between your thighs. “S’not— I wanna—”

“You can,” Leon growls, making a low warning of a noise in his throat as he tuts in disapproval. It goes straight to your stomach, tingles shocking your body as you clench around nothing. “And you will.”

Instead of keeping you upright by the throat, Leon’s hands leave you to fend for yourself as he slides them down your supple skin, down every dip and curve and slope, until he’s playing with the leftover stickiness of your hole.

You’re certain there’s nowhere near as comfortable as Leon’s arms. They’re big and strong, plush and warm against your skin, and firm in your hand when he’s flexing. They keep you secure and safe, protected from whatever monstrosities are in this godforsaken place, you’re sure he’d hold you till you both fell asleep, and you’d be enveloped in his warmth.

He smells just as warm too, faintly of vanilla underneath all that sex and remnants of polluted air.

“Christ, you’re so… Warm around my fingers. Give it to me, baby, let me fuck you with my fingers.”

You love his warmth, it spreads across your body and travels down your chest, your stomach, your thighs, until he’s taking you apart with it. His fingers are so warm, so thick and perfect as they fuck into you. Even when you’re sloppy like this, sucking his fingers back in like you’d never wanted to be left empty again in the first place, working your hips back to chase after his knuckles. The warmth of his arms as he flips you around, pushes your weight into his own by the base of your neck, maneuvers you just right, keeps you open and vulnerable for him. All for him.

Yeah, there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

“Hey, you with me?” It’s his turn to ask, and you wonder if he felt the same butterflies you did.

“Yeah, I’m,” You’re breathlessly spreading your legs and pulling yourself apart with the warmth of your palms to reveal the puffiness of your hole, fucked out and shiny from earlier’s abuse. Leon wonders how easy it’d be to slip back in, to inch his cock deeper and deeper inside as you flutter around him and keen with oversensitivity. “M’with you, Sir.”

“Atta boy,” The smile he flashes is all teeth, dangerous and sharp as his canines glint in the dim lighting. You have half the heart to be a bit scared, but it doesn’t mean much when he’s working you open when you’re already so sensitive. Your hips jitter, twitching both toward and away from his fingers as he presses against that same bundle of nerves from earlier— it’s too much. This time you really mean it, because the second he hits it, tears spring in your eyes and you’re fisting remnants of the peeling wallpaper like a lifeline. “Greedy little hole. Didn’t you just take me?”

“Ohh, oh, God! Leon,” He hums in acknowledgement, as if he’s actually listening to your mindless babbling, nodding with lidded eyes as he uses your hips to pull you down onto his fingers. He’s using you like some kind of toy, moving you with one hand as you sit there and take it. You’re melting into the wall, drool slipping through the seam of your lips and trailing down your exposed chest. “You— your fingers, feel so good.”

“I know, baby.”

The way you’re convulsing around his fingers is telling, crying and sobbing and squealing into the wallpaper while he angles your back down. His large palm presses into the small of your back, strong and firm as he pushes and pushes until you’re arching just right and exposed.

“Let me fuck you till I cum, be my toy,” You can barely hear him over your own sobs, shifting your weight between legs as you steady yourself. His cock slips in easy, smooth and wet and perfect. You missed this feeling the second it left, the fullness of his dick inside you. The curve of his long cock as it inches inside, the feeling of that one particular vein pulsing deep inside. “Gonna fuck you over and over. Yeah? Got that? Because you’re all mine.”

“Uh-huh, mhm,” You gasp, every inhale making you sputter and choke on your tears. “Yes, Sir.”

If you weren’t crying before you surely are now, with the sharp thrusts Leon’s pistoning into your hole, loud and sloppy and squelching as he backs you up on his cock. It’s like he’s mounted you, shoving your face into the wall as he slams into you. In and out, in and out, in and out…With every slap of his balls against your thighs you whine, small pitiful sounds escaping your lips until your voice goes hoarse and all you can do is weakly claw at the wall.

But you’ve been good, save for a few whiny noises and indiscreet pouting, you’ve been so good. So Leon lets your uninjured hand wander, even guides it down to your front as he fucks you from behind so hard it feels like you’re going stupid. You can’t see him like this, but you’d bet there’s a feral look on his face. Pupils blown wide as his red eyes focus on the view of his cock disappearing inside you, his brain short circuiting as it repeats the same code over and over.

Breed, breed, breed.

“Wanna breed you,” He rasps, strong arms pulling you the second he’s pulling out. No matter what, you’re full of him. You’re full of him even as his cock slides away, a trail of precum connecting the two of you as it froths between your thighs and his balls. “Can I fuck my cum into your sloppy little hole? Hm?”

“Course, f’course,” It’s all out the window, every possible thought you’d ever had about how uncomfortable it could be to be…preoccupied while on a mission. Because you want it, you want to be full. You want him to give it to you, deeper and harder and messier and… More. “..Please..”

“Nice of you to say, but,” He groans high in his throat, voice tight and heavy as his hips grow sloppy and weak. Yet, his cock still feels so heavy in your hole, makes you feel like you’re ready to burst apart at the seams. Leon’s fingers pull at your cheeks, slipping in your mouth and pulling at the skin until your mouth is forced wide, your tongue slipping from your mouth as you drool and cry. “I wasn’t really asking. You’d let me cum wherever I wanted, wouldn’t you? It’s okay, sweetheart, you’re cute when you go dumb on my dick.”

You can’t do this.

You tried, really. You tried your hardest, held it for as long as you could. But you’re already there, almost screaming on his dick as you flutter and clamp down on it, light beaming in your stomach as your body grows sensitive and weak. You’re cumming. And Leon’s hand around your throat doesn’t do anything besides aid it, the way you gush and whine around his cock despite his insistent thrusts. You can’t think, you can’t breathe, and it feels so fucking good.

“Jesus fuck, you take that cock so well. Such a good boy, my pretty slut,” Leon pulls you into him, pressing his chest against your back as he sinks his teeth into the base of your neck. Not enough to draw blood, no, just enough to leave a Leon S. Kennedy sized bite mark along your skin. “Tell me you love this cock, pretty baby. I know you can.”

“I love— ohhh — love your cock, Sir. M’so full.” Your twitching doesn’t cease, instead egging him on as your pretty little hole sucks him in deeper, holding him like a vice. Warm and slick, he can’t help but moan into your neck as his balls tighten and he cums.

“That’s it,” You watch him pant through the corner of your eyes, weighed down by fatigue, sex, and the entirety of today's ordeals. But at least the richness of his veins are beginning to clear up, and his pretty, arctic blue eyes are starting to resurface. You smile around a hearty moan, feeling your insides flood with warmth as his eyes flutter shut and his body shudders. “I could really get used to this.”

It’s hard and fast, much too fast for him to have pulled out to shoot across your back— no, he’s partially shot a thick, creamy rope inside you. His veins pulse at the thought, satiated with the sight of your fucked-out hole drooling with his cum.

“Oh… Fuck.”

He’s hard again.

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

"What's going on?" you sighed. "You've barely met my eyes all day."

Your words were almost drowned out by noise from the upstairs neighbors in the dingy apartment building you were now calling home. Daryl finally glanced up at you and gulped. "S'just... what we left... back in Alexandria. And what've we got here?" he gestured to the dimness of the shabby room. "We've got a shithole, money to worry 'bout again, 'n 'm back to bein' a nobody. Maybe we shouldn'ta come here. Maybe I shouldn'ta brought ya and the kids..."

You let out a huge sigh of relief. "Is that all?" you asked, moving to kneel down beside him. "I thought it was something really awful. You were scaring me."

Daryl shook his head, his brow furrowed. "Ya deserve better than this. So do RJ and Jude. 'M sorry..."

"Hey." You stopped him with a cool hand gentle against his cheek. "First of all, this isn't your fault. You deserve better than this shithole too. And you're right, we all do. But this is temporary. The Commonwealth is going to help us rebuild Alexandria. We're safe enough. We have meals for the kids... and we're together. That's all that matters for now." Daryl ducked his head, trying to believe you but he felt such a heavy curtain of guilt weighing him down, regardless of what you'd said. Maybe if he'd just been better, been stronger... But you kept speaking. "You will never be nobody, Daryl Dixon. Even before things fell apart, this man you are now was in there, waiting. Nobody? You're everything. And I'll tell you every minute if I have to until you believe it."

His blue eyes met yours again and they were less stormy. You gave him a small smile, and he rested a hand along the graceful curve of your neck and kissed you gently, almost pleadingly. "Dun ever forget how much ya mean to me."

You grinned at him and bit your bottom lip. He watched as your eyes flickered down to his lips and back up to his eyes. "What time are the kids getting home again?" you asked.

Daryl checked the clock propped up against the wall. "We got time," he drawled, a smile on his lips now too.

You looped your arms around his neck. "Thank God..."

Prompt: "Is that all?"

[slashbitch2]

blood, betrayal and granola bars PT1

Summary: after a routine takeover of a HYDRA base goes terribly wrong, Natasha Romanoff finds herself stuck with her worst nightmare...you. Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader W.C: 5.7k Words part two

An explosion to your left sent shrapnel and debris flying through the air. You quickly tucked your face into the crook of your arm, too distracted by the task at hand to take note of whether anything had pierced your skin. The sound of not-too distant gunshots motivated you onwards as adrenaline pumped throughout your body and numbed the injuries you were sure to have acquired. 

Another blast, this time to the right and a lot closer. Shockwaves had you stumbling backwards, falling to the ground and catching your breath. The explosion was intense enough to have penetrated the outer wall of the building, now exposing you to the frigid environment that lurked outside. You felt a gust of wind encircle you, carrying a chill with it. You shivered, watching as the flakes of snow drifted inside now.

An obstructed voice crackled in your earpiece. “ALL REMAINING PERS-NEL TO LAND- BAY ONE.” You rose to your feet, cringing at the pain that shot through your right side. “I REPEAT--- LAST AIRCRAFT CLEARED FOR TAKE OFF—LANDING BAY ONE.”

The aircraft hanger wasn’t too far away, but common sense told you there was no way you would make it in time. Even then, the likelihood of it successfully taking off in these conditions and without being shot down was slim. You leant against the wall, ready to sink back to the ground in defeat.

A distant boom sounded, followed by the very walls around you shaking and groaning as if barely able to hold up the remaining structure. Then a clunk, and suddenly the fluorescent white lighting switched off. You were thrown into an obscurity which matched the darkness outside. It seemed as though the night air was seeping in through the gap in the wall, shadows suffusing across the maze of corridors.

And then, ironically late, a siren rang out. It started quietly elsewhere, then grew louder and louder until the sound was echoing around your end of the base. A second later and the accompanying red emergency lights turned on, drenching the grey walls, ceiling and floor a bloody red.

Your eyes scanned the area, thankfully deserted, head whipping from side to side as you tried to work out where exactly you were in amongst the chaos. Your gaze fell upon a sign engraved into the wall reading NW12, the corridor you were currently in. Despite having spent the last couple months stationed in the base, your mind was blank and muddled. You desperately scoured your mind for if there was anywhere nearby which could possibly help your situation.

The storage room. 

It was just at the end of the corridor and to the left, tucked away in a corner hopefully no one would have found yet. With a new motivation pushing you onwards, you set off at a jog, boots clanging against the metal ground at an uneven pace. Muffled gunshots, screams and footsteps continued playing in the background in a horrifying loop. As you turned the corner, you prayed nobody was round the other side, but didn’t dare to spare a glance.

The emergency protocols meant all locks had been disabled, but pure exhaustion and desperation had you all but slamming yourself against the storage room door. It gave way under your body weight, and you rather ungracefully stumbled through the doorway.

Most the shelves were barren, with everyone having grabbed what they could as the invasion began. But hidden away on the bottom corner shelf you caught sight of a First Aid kit. You lunged towards it, willing to take anything you could. To your convenience, someone had abandoned their backpack in the room, so you grabbed hold of that and shoved the kit inside. The backpack contained a jacket, gloves, pencil and an empty water bottle, so you stole those too,

Was it still stealing if the owner was probably already dead?

There wasn’t much left in terms of weapons. You had a gun on you when the conflict begun, but by now most of the bullets had been fired. All that remained in the storage room was a taser, which you opted to take anyway. It was better than nothing.

With replenished supplies, you decided now was as good as any time to leave. There was an underground garage with several vehicles equipped for tough terrain, and so that was probably your best bet if it hadn’t been raided by now.

The base was located quite literally in the middle of nowhere, with only one road in and out: a straight dirt track that was likely covered by a thick layer of snow this time of year. It was never busy as the base was relatively new and unknown amongst most HYDRA agents. To have been stationed here was an honour, and the fact that the base had been discovered by SHIELD was almost unbelievable.

Brandishing your gun in front of you and ready to fire at will, you began the journey to the garage. For a couple minutes, only the alarm and an eerie silence accompanied your passage through the base. With most the building being in ruins now, the conflict appeared to have been taken outside. SHIELD versus Hydra. Both attempting to evacuate while both making a last-ditch attempt at stopping each other from escaping unharmed.

They were as bad as each other…

Opting for a riskier approach, you lowered your weapon in order to start sprinting. Monotonous grey corridors turned into a blur around you, marked only by the occasional splatter of blood and lifeless body left to rot. Or even worse, the ones still conscious that called meekly out for help. You felt sick to your stomach. SHIELD and HYDRA agents lay alongside each other, unintelligible from one another in death.

Onwards you charged into the very core of the base where bullets were still being fired. You ducked around them, miraculously making it through unscathed. Instinct guided your movements; left then right, left again and straight ahead. And then you reached the final stretch, a concrete staircase winding down to the underground level. You halted for barely a moment to listen out for danger and heard nothing but your own heartbeat thundering.

You took a frantic step, ready to descend when something solid crashed against your chest and sent you soaring backwards. Your thudded pathetically against the wall and fell down, watching as a figure swung herself down from the stair rail above.

You fumbled for your gun and aimed it at the woman. She kicked it out of your grip before you had a chance to fire. While she was unbalanced, you shoved yourself forwards and kicked her leg out from under her. She grunted, hitting the hard concrete ground. You scrambled to retrieve the gun, but she was too quick, grabbing you by the shoulders and dragging you back.

In one last attempt, you seized the taser from where it was tucked in the side pocket of the backpack and dug it into her side. There was a buzz, a flash of electricity and sizzle. She cried out in pain, loosening her grip enough for you to escape.

You didn’t bother to get the gun but leapt over her body and down the first set of stairs, then jumped down the next, and the next. A gunshot resonated through the stairway, the bullet bouncing off the wall right where your head had been a second ago. You glanced up to see the redhead catching up now, aiming the gun and about to shoot again.

You dodged another bullet, descended another level. Another shot rung out, this one nowhere near you. There was no time to celebrate the ground you had gained as another ricocheted off the metal handrail right next to your hand. And then, a faint click. She had run out of bullets, and you had almost reached the door to the garage.

Without the gun in hand anymore, the woman leapt over each rail and masterfully swung herself down, skipping the stairs. By the time you were grasping onto the doorhandle, she was kicking you in the stomach. The door swung shut again as you flailed backwards. She had you cornered, your last chance at freedom now gone, yet she didn’t immediately attack.

At the same moment, you both heard it.

From the other side of the wall, a harsh beeping, its pace getting quicker and quicker.

“Shit.” You glanced at your attacker, who’s horrified expression matched your own.

The beeps grew louder, less distance between each as you remained paralysed, waiting for the bomb to implode.

She sprung suddenly at you, throwing both your bodies to the ground.

A shuddering blast.

Overpowering heat.

And then, darkness.

The first thing Natasha became aware of was pain. It started as a dull thudding in her head, then spread to a terrible ache all over. She was exhausted in every sense of the word, and endlessly grateful for the comfort of the mattress beneath her. A high-pitched ringing in her ears drowned out all other thoughts, becoming gradually louder and contributing to the pounding headache she had.

But what was that sound?

She tried desperately to think what could be causing it, or perhaps more importantly, where she currently was, but her mind came up blank.

The mattress shifted beneath her, a spring suddenly poking into her stomach. She tried repositioning herself to avoid the discomfort, and in doing so inhaled a lungful of dust. She coughed and spluttered, untangling herself and trying to sit up. Her body felt as heavy as lead, but something here wasn’t right.

Fighting against the agonising pain behind her eyes, Natasha finally took in her surroundings.

Pale sunlight was filtering in through the broken structure, reflecting blindingly off the snow that had found its way inside the remaining shelter. All around her was piles of shattered concrete, with metal pipes and other indistinguishable objects poking out. Snow had begun to cover everything in a crisp white blanket, as if hiding the damage done, reclaiming the site.

It all came back to her rather abruptly; the HYDRA base, the mission, how everything had gone wrong. The person she was tasked with capturing had escaped, and the mission was taking a turn for the worse. An order had just come in over the intercom for all remaining SHIELD personnel to escape, so she had been attempting to make her own way out when she’d run into-

Natasha realised now that the mattress that had cushioned her fall was in fact not a mattress.

You lay face down underneath her, unconscious where she had knocked you to the ground before the bomb had gone off. Despite how the world around her spun, and how every muscle called out for rest, Natasha was quick to push herself off you, sitting back on her heels to observe your current state. In response, you groaned, slowly but surely coming back to life.

She hadn’t gotten a good look at you previously, only now allowing her eyes to scan over your face, which was littered in small cuts and bruises. Yet underneath it all, she was forced to admit you were rather beautiful. She almost regretted inflicting such injuries on you- like damaging a skilfully sculpted statue. Her gaze continued roaming over your body, taking in the basic protective gear you were wearing and concluding you were at least partly battle trained, and definitely still a threat.

The taser you had used against her was still tightly gripped in your hand, and she shuddered at the memory of how much it had hurt. She decided there was no way she was leaving you with it and leant over you to take the weapon from your grasp.

Suddenly, your elbow flew back, smacking into her face and throwing her off balance.

“Fuck!” Natasha cupped her nose, spluttering through the pain.

You had turned yourself over onto your back and were holding the taser out like a sword. There was recognition in your eyes, but you appeared just as disorientated as she felt- only without a freshly broken nose. You were breathing heavily, eyes darting around the destroyed stairwell and recalling what had happened.

You finally looked back at Natasha, expression softening ever so slightly as you took in the blood pouring from her nose. “Truce?” You suggested apologetically.

Natasha didn’t respond, her mind too busy racing over what was the best course of action in these circumstances.

You pushed yourself up onto your elbows and stared at her. “Did I break your jaw too or do you not speak English?” Then sighed as she continued being silent. “Tregua? Перемирие? Trêve?”

“Yes, I speak English.” She harshly answered at last, putting an end to your rambling.

You watched her curiously as she took a deep breath, bracing her hands on either side of her broken nose. Natasha knew the best thing to do was pop her nose back into place. She closed her eyes, mentally counting down from five and then pushing harshly inwards. There was a load pop as she grimaced, waiting for the agonising feeling to subside.

“You couldn’t have done that, I don’t know, not in front of me?”

“You’re the reason my nose was broken in the first place.” Natasha muttered, shooting you an unimpressed look.

“It was an instinctual response!” You stated, loosening your grip on the taser. All things considered, neither of you were fit to fight one another. “But I’m sorry.” You conceded, eyeing up the current state of her nose.

Out of all the things she expected from you, an apology wasn’t one of them. Natasha reconsidered you for a moment. You were in a more dishevelled state than she was, with dark red stains starting to seep through patches of your uniform, and a nasty gash along your forehead. With every small movement you winced, leading her to conclude that perhaps you didn’t pose as much of a threat to her anymore, apart from the taser which you were reluctant to let go of.

“If that’s your reaction to waking up after a bomb’s just exploded then I don’t want to be near you on a normal day.” She quipped, summoning the resolve to stand up fully.  

Despite everything, you smiled and joined in. “Yeah, I did wonder why none of my relationships lasted past one night.”

Natasha didn’t respond, instead scanning herself for injuries. A bullet had nicked her shoulder, but otherwise every other cut was small and inconsequential. The main sufferance was the general ache that encompassed her whole body. From head to toe she felt beaten and bruised and knew it was only going to get worse. The stillness that enveloped the base meant that any chance of rescue was minimal. With SHIELD evacuations likely having finished hours ago, she would have to make her own way back. Somehow.

The wall separating the stairway and underground garage was now nothing but a pile of rubble. She could see that roof had collapsed in on itself and destroyed any remaining vehicles, resigning herself to the fact that the journey would have to be made on foot. Luckily enough, the structure of the building had taken the brute impact of the explosion instead of falling inwards and crushing you both.

Although unlikely that any survivors or supplies remained, Natasha decided to search the remnants of the base. She started to climb up the fragmented chunks of concrete that had once formed the ceiling when you called out after her. “Wait, where are you going?”

She didn’t bother to slow down or face you. If she was to make progress, then there was no time for delay.

“Hey!” You quickly followed the route Natasha had taken, clambering up after her. “Wouldn’t it make sense for us to stick together? For now, at least.” You proposed between breaths. You were already exhausting yourself trying to keep up with her.

“That depends. Do you plan on tasing or elbowing me in the face again?” After hauling herself up one last block, the ground levelled out into a gentle slope. From here she was able to overlook the barren, colourless scenery, broken up only by the demolished structure.

“You attacked me first!” Crunching footsteps in the snow alerted her to the fact you had caught up. She turned back to see you walking over determinedly, occasionally slipping on the icy, uneven surface.

“I attacked a HYDRA agent, don’t make it personal.”

“Yes, and then you saved a HYDRA agent.”

Natasha halted. “What do you mean?”

“You pushed me to the ground before the bomb went off,” You explained with a shrug. “And I highly doubt it was because you wanted a softer landing.”

Natasha nodded. “I did.” She hadn’t really thought of it like that, but in retrospect, she had probably saved you from some life-threatening injuries.

“Why?”

“Force of habit, I guess.” She sniffed, refusing to meet your probing eyes.

“Well, intentional or not, thank you.” You said sincerely. “Let me make it up to you.”

“How, by slowing me down? Turning me in to HYDRA?” She scoffed.

“No. By sharing my supplies,”

Natasha glanced briefly at the backpack hanging from your shoulder. After being stood still for a minute, she had become acutely aware of the snow falling softly all around her. Everywhere she looked was a mix of white and greys, with a line of dark green trees in the distance. The base appeared already devoid of everything, in the process of being reclaimed by the unpredictable wintry weather.

As if reading her mind, you added, “trust me, you won’t find anything useful in the wreckage if that’s what you’re hoping for.”

Natasha didn’t say anything, feeling rather defeated.

“Look, I have a first aid kit. I can treat that gash on your shoulder.” You placed the backpack down to rummage through. “And I have a jacket in here. I can see you shivering.” You held up a sandy coloured jacket. It would hardly provide much warmth, but it was a start.

“Fine.” She surrendered. As much as she didn’t trust you, there was also no point in going separate ways. “But only if you drop the taser.”

You frowned, shaking your head. “What if we run into trouble? This is the middle of the Russian wilderness. You think you’ll be able to take down a bear, or a wild boar with just some showy Karate Kid tricks?”

Natasha smirked. “Karate Kid?”

“You heard me.” You quirked an eyebrow challengingly, shoving the jacket back inside the bag.

“Fine,” She folded her arms. “Then give me the taser.”

You froze for a second, pursing your lips thoughtfully. “You really have trust issues, you know.” With a sigh, you hesitantly placed the taser in her open hand. “Try anything and I’ll hit you with my backpack.”

“I’m sure me and my Karate Kid tricks can handle that.” Natasha examined the small weapon. It wouldn’t do much damage, but you were right, it was better than nothing. She tucked it into her belt where she usually holstered her gun.

“Alright. Truce, Miss…?” You extended a hand, which she shook cautiously.

“Natalie.” She lied. “Natalie Rushman.”

“That’s not your real name, is it?”

“Nope.” Natasha didn’t bother to elaborate.

The location of the HYDRA base you had called home for the last few months was incredibly convenient for running undetected by most major governmental bodies, but as you soon realised, it was possibly the worst for wilderness hikes. You relayed this thought to Natasha, who stubbornly insisted on walking a few paces behind you. “To keep an eye on you,” she had said.

“I’m not sure walkability is usually taken into consideration when deciding that sort of thing.” She said in all seriousness, though you were certain you heard a smile in her voice.

It had been a few hours since you’d formed your impromptu truce and left the destroyed base. The sun was now steadily rising through the pale blue sky, the clouds having parted and snow discontinuing its assault. Still, enough of it crunched under foot that an uncomfortable puddle of water had invaded your boots.

“If I were in charge on designing military bases, I’d have them built in the middle of busy cities.” You stated, thinking out loud.

“Oh yeah?” Natalie prompted, thoroughly uninterested.

“Yeah. Inside of Starbucks’ or something. Somewhere no one would suspect.” You chuckled to yourself. “But I guess that’s why they don’t let me make the decisions.” You lied.

Despite finding Nat’s company to be relatively enjoyable, at the end of the day you were on different sides, and you were reluctant to let her discover your true role or identity within HYDRA.

“Well, that is a pretty stupid idea.”

You put your hand on your heart and turned back to her acting offended. Your gaze lingered on her for a second longer than necessary. Amongst the endless, flat fields of snow, Natalie provided respite for your eyes. The striking red of her hair and inky black suit stood out like artwork on an otherwise blank, white canvas.

After a beat you turned to face forwards again. “You’re the one with the taser. I think I should be making you walk in front.”

You heard her exhale loudly, but otherwise she said nothing.

“Or what if I tried to make a run for it.” You continued. “I know the area better than you do.”

“I thought you were just complaining about how un-walkable it was.” She retaliated.

“Doesn’t mean I haven’t walked around before.”

“Fine. When we make it to those trees, we can walk next to each other.” She pointed towards the approaching forest of evergreens.

“Wow, what an honour.” You said sarcastically. “Or is it because you know I could hide so easily in there?”

“No, I’m more worried you’d try to run and smack straight into a tree. I don’t want to have to carry a concussed agent round with me.”

You chuckled. “Why? Bad for your image?”

“Exactly.”

Upon entering the forest, the snow became a lot deeper and harder to wade through. The green of the evergreens was darkened by the shadows of other trees standing tall, and so all around you was a scene of black and white- like motionless static in which your mind played tricks on you. Every so often, you swore you saw movement out the corner of your eye, as paranoia began to press down on your chest and rendered you silent. With the taller pine trees blocking sunlight from penetrating the layer of foliage, you found yourself feeling a lot colder after only a couple minutes of walking through it.

“Hold on.” You called out to Natalie and placed the backpack down to dig out the jacket and gloves.

“What happened to sharing resources?”

You looked up at her, pulling on the gloves and feeling instantly a lot warmer. “You should have asked earlier.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t complain.

As you unravelled the jacket fully, a bright green wrapper fell out of the pocket. You almost couldn’t believe your eyes- or luck, as a granola bar fell into your lap.

Unfortunately, Nat saw it too. “I call dibs on the granola bar, then.”

You looked up at her, exasperated and unimpressed. Food hadn’t been on your mind but seeing the snack suddenly brought to light the gnawing hunger in the pit of your stomach.

She simply shrugged and reached down to snatch it out of your lap. “You get the clothes; I get the food. It’s only fair.”

You rolled your eyes and watched as she tore open the wrapper. ““I would argue but I don’t have the energy. I’m too weak from hunger.” You stood up and walked onwards without her, determined to ignore the sound of her crunching behind you.

“Wait.” Nat’s voice was suddenly too serious for your liking, a horrible prickle at the base of your spine convincing you to listen to her.

You stopped in your tracks, allowing the silence of the forest to resonate all around you. There were no birds chirping, no branches snapping or wind rustling leaves. It was eerily still.

Static. The crackling of a radio in the distance. “Hello? Hello? Can anyone hear me.” An unfamiliar person was speaking into an intercom, met only by more static and silence.

The sound was coming from behind you, growing steadily closer.

“Requesting immediate assistance.” It was a different voice this time, but they had no better luck in reaching out for help.

Your mind was racing, your heart beating in your chest yet you didn’t dare to breath. They could be fellow HYDRA agents willing to join you in the search for safety. Or they could be SHIELD agents, left behind like Natalie and ready to kill you.

Should you reveal yourself and pray they would help? Or stay silent assuming they were the latter?

A quick glance at Natalie revealed the same indecision in her expression. You realised she was in the same situation as you, wondering whether to risk it and trust them, or to continue alone in your unstable truce.

Regardless the fact remained that, if you called out to them, one of you wouldn’t survive.

At this realisation, your mind came to an answer: you would not contact the strangers. Although Nat was your enemy, she had unknowingly saved your life earlier, a debt you were willing to repay. Any desire to fight with her had faded, replaced by the desire to cooperate, and to a certain degree ensure her safety.

“Y/N.” Natalie hissed your name, drawing your attention back to the matter at hand. The voices were steadily growing nearer and nearer, your view of them obstructed by the thick row of trees surrounding you. They hadn’t seen you yet but inevitably would.

Nat inclined her head to the right, eyes widening in an attempt to convey her plan. You followed her gaze to a fallen tree a few metres away, quickly assessing what she meant for you both to do. Relief filled your body as you recognised that she had come to the same conclusion not to turn yourselves over to the strangers,

Careful not to make too much noise, you ducked down and tiptoed over to the fallen tree, hearing her softly following behind. Having recently fallen, the leaves were mostly intact, and you were able to lean back into them and hide. Snow balancing on the branches fell onto you while the shark pine needles stuck uncomfortably into your back, but you ignored the discomfort to shift over, allowing Natalie to settle wordlessly down beside you.

Both of you held your breath and listened out, praying they wouldn’t see you as they went past.

The crackling static grew nearer, interrupted only by the same phrase repeated over and over. “Is anyone out there? Hello? Requesting immediate assistance-“

The footsteps stopped where you had been standing barely a minute ago. There was a dull thump of something hitting the snow, then an agitated. “Just give it up! No one is out there, and nobody is listening!”

The man who had previously been speaking into the intercom sighed. “Well what else would you have us do? Continue wandering aimlessly?”

“Better than listening to your stupid, fucking whiny voice over and over.”

“Yeah, and who made you team leader?”

“Can you two just shut up? Please?” A third exasperated voice interrupted the heated conversation between the two men. “Arguing isn’t going to help us. We’re stuck, the base is gone and HYDRA isn’t coming back to safe us so why don’t you just-“

You zoned out from the rest, too caught up on what he had said. They were HYDRA. They could help you. A sinking sort of feeling enveloped your stomach, previous hunger quickly forgotten and replaced by regret. You listened as the group continued onwards, their voices slowly fading, and with it; your regret only grew.

You glanced to the side, seeing how Nat was watching for your reaction with concern in her eyes. She expected you to run after them and leave her alone, or to call them back and have her ambushed. She must have seen the remorse on your face as her expression hardened, her fist clenched ready for a fight.

Without thinking, you placed your hand over hers and shook your head in way of silent communication. At your assurance, she seemed to relax slightly, so you removed your hand to stare straight ahead and wait for an all clear. Nat continued to impassively observe you until the voices had dwindled, and the forest fell into silence once more.

Darkness was descending upon the forest when you decided to stop for the day. You had made a fair bit of progress, but hunger was gnawing away at your patience, tiredness slowing down your limbs and the cold night air sending pain shooting through all your injuries. Yet in spite of all the negatives, you found you were getting on well with Natalie. Apart from the occasional meaningless squabble, you worked well as a team, and the only issue you had so far was the granola bar peaking teasingly out her pocket.

Currently, she was gathering as much dry kindling as she could find in the fading sunlight, while you were tasked with trying to keep the fire going. Under the shelter of particularly thick evergreen tree, you had brushed away the thinner layer of snow and set up a small pile of twigs. Then you had used the lead from the pencil left in the backpack as a fire starter and gotten Nat to spark the taser against it.

You were rather proud to see flames burning tall barely a moment later. Although, the evergreen pines burnt away rather quickly, hence Natalie searching the area for better materials.

Exhaustion caused your eyelids to droop and your vision to blur as you stared at the fire, hypnotised by the orange glow that danced through the still air. The warmth it emanated felt like a luxury, the light it provided was your saving grace. As much as you loathed to admit it, you found the forest ominous at night, preferring to focus on the way the smoke burned your eyes.

“Hey.” Nat reappeared before you, clutching onto armfuls of sticks which she set down just out of reach of the fire.

You simply smiled at her, too tired to think of anything to say.

“I found these as well.” Nat extended a handful of berries toward you. They were dark in colour, and you couldn’t help but be suspicious. Although you were certain you had been cooperating well, perhaps Natalie didn’t feel the same. Perhaps this was some big ploy to have you killed.

She quirked an eyebrow at the obvious suspicion laced in your expression. “They’re buckthorn.” She explained. “I’m not trying to poison you.”

“Wouldn’t put it past you.” You mumbled, though there was no real weight behind your words. You were starving, and at this point, willing to eat anything.

Carefully, she tipped the berries into your cupped hands. Hesitantly, you ate one.

They tasted fine.

You devoured the rest.

“So how come you know so much about Russian-wilderness gastronomy?” You asked eventually, changing the topic from your obvious distrust of her.

She regarded you with curiosity, surprised that you had thought to ask and considering how much to say. “I was born here.” She put simply.

“And what, you were a Russian girl scout?” You smirked, prompting her to say more.

The corners of her lips lifted up in a smile, then fell back into a serious straight line. “Not exactly.”

You could tell she was avoiding saying something, and you decided not to press her for an answer. Seeing the reminiscent sadness in her eyes, you felt the sudden need to apologise for having brought it up in the first place. “Sorry, just I’m trying to work out how you go from Russia to SHIELD.”

“With great difficulty.” She tilted her head amusedly. “What about you? How did you end up with HYDRA?”

You sighed, slumping against your backpack and debating how much to say. From Nat’s honesty, you decided she at least deserved a truthful response. “Accidentally.” You chuckled humourlessly. “Believe it or not, working for a secret organisation founded in a Nazi ideology wasn’t exactly first on my careers list.”

“Did you accidentally stumble across one of their secret bases located in a Starbucks?” She jokingly asked.

You laughed tiredly, pinching the bridge of your nose. “No, that would’ve been too easy.”

Both being equally exhausted as the other, you allowed the conversation to end and settled back to sleep. The ground was freezing beneath your body, the fire only providing so much warmth. You were using the backpack as an impromptu pillow, which made the sleeping situation slightly more bearable, yet it was still impossibly uncomfortable. You could hardly imagine how intolerable the night would be for Natalie.

Right on cue, you heard her hiss in pain from beside you. She was clutching at her shoulder, suddenly jogging your memory that a bullet had nicked her.

Your head lolled to the side as you faced her. “Do you want me to bandage that?” You asked quietly.

“I was waiting for you to offer.” She snarked.

You rolled your eyes and sat up, your muscles already aching from the two minutes you had spent laid down. You thumbed through the mostly empty bag to retrieve the first aid kit from the bottom. Beside you, Nat pulled her suit down enough to reveal the gash. You were unable to stop your eyes from lingering on the exposed skin; pale from the cold and covered in dried blood, yet your gaze still traced the way her collarbone jutted out. Your mouth felt suddenly very dry.

“I don’t mind doing it myself.” She commented, a smirk crossing her lips as though she had read your mind.

“No. Its’ fine, I’ll do it.” You shuffled towards her, examining the wound and preparing the necessary equipment to treat it.

She said nothing more as you set to work, your hands surprisingly warm despite the weather.

Softly, silently, you tended to the cut. Softly, silently, Nat basked in the warmth of the contact.

> PT2

[ellesthots]

Fateful Beginnings

XXXIII. “night light”

parts: previous / next

plot: not a week after the publishing of your interview, Bruce’s vulnerability is exploited when someone enacts revenge.

pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x fem!reader

cw: 18+, physical assault (threats/guns (in mouth/pointed at head)), description of injury (blood/mild gore), hurt/comfort, angst, fluff (<3)

words: 8.1k

a/n: hi lovelies !! i’m so excited to hear what you think about this chapter 🤭 we got the angst, we got some FLUFF finally !! AGHHH i love them

Why did he say that?

It took a few turns and back alleys for Bruce to lose the paparazzi, but soon enough he was driving on the road of the fight. The thighs of his pants were damp from rubbing his hands on them to dry; he needed to check the side-effect list of his meds. His body felt alight with tension and activation, and all he could think about on a haunting loop was: from the bottom of my heart. He didn’t say things like that. Why did he say that?

Now that he was further from the trigger, and not yet at the scene, he tried to dehaze the memory of what it felt like to sit across from you. If he could pin himself to that moment, investigate those feelings… he was drawing a blank. He focused in on the apprehension, the hesitation that stopped him from saying goodbye, or even good riddance. It wasn’t often he couldn’t drudge up any possibilities. He shoved his foot on the gas, frustrated.

The sun had fully abandoned the sky, and the moon was shrouded in clouds. The dim street lamps didn’t do much, so he double-clicked the headlights, thankful for the apparent lack of other drivers to render sightless with his ultra-brights. Seemed like no one had been to the complex yet; at the entryway, a small pile of decaying vomit engraved itself below the side railing. Some specks of blood could be seen on the steps—his eyes narrowed. He hadn’t felt a cut on your head. Maybe Miller’s?

His nagging thoughts fell by the wayside as he noted no one around the apartment complex. He slid the car down an alleyway across the street, cutting the lights as he turned off the motor and unbuckled his seatbelt. That familiar tingle came back into him like a breath of life. The feeling of adventure, the feeling of duty, of purpose. It wasn’t the longest he’d kept from this, and he took a forceful inhale as he recalled the period after the flooding. All the blood that had been in the street, the bodies, the animals, the glass scattered everywhere… he’d drifted around in the weeks following, and he always heard someone scream from a cut. Every walk. The sound of the city’s sobs hadn’t left his mind for months.

A car drove past, then backed up. Bruce sat forward in his seat, his jaw locking tight as he soaked in the environment. Black Chevy truck, 832KZY license. Dent in the left flank by the brake light. Dusty. Faded paint. The driver was a petite woman with olive skin and mid-length dark hair. Bangs. She looked down at something to her right with annoyance. After some lurching, she grinned, and the car sped off. He relaxed. Stick shift issues. That year’s model was notoriously difficult.

As he reclined in his seat just so, the weight of speaking in front of the crowd thudded into him. His insides felt hollow, scooped out; his eyes stung like staring straight at the sun on a blazing summer day. He’d have to watch back the footage, even though the thought skinned him alive. It was necessary to study how he came off, find areas to tweak, improve. He slumped further into the seat. He would’ve much rather had a gun to his head. At least then he’d feel less lost. Less drained. Might even jolt some rage-fueled energy into him.

He was disappointed there wasn’t more to sink his teeth into; he longed to investigate. The cut-and-dry never did much for him. He lived to find the detail everyone else overlooked; to forge a bond between two things no one thought could be connected. God, even imagining doing that brought a rush… the pulsing throb of electrum whispered behind the past week’s curtains.

He redirected himself, pulling out a small journal from the glovebox. He clicked the pen.

Electrum. John Doe. Gordon. Investigate.

More thoughts came to him. Every other word he paused, flitting his eyes up to check for changes.

Hady, Grange, March. Research.

Bella Reál. Investigate.

He put it back in the glovebox and readjusted in his seat. Early on he’d tried to carry everything all at once, following the natural direction of his thoughts as if it were logical to rely on intuition alone. It was distracting. Inefficient. One thing at a time.

After a paltry fifteen minute stakeout, Alfred lit up his phone. Bruce hated how worrying he was lately, but what he hated more was he had good reason to. As severe the desire to ignore the man’s calls was, he knew he couldn’t keep him waiting… he grit his teeth. Under the present circumstances. While it wasn’t rare for him to daydream about time machines, he’d never before wanted to jump forward in time. He kept his eyes trained to the building, but there was no movement. “Yeah?”

“Did you see Y/N leave the meeting?”

You’d done precisely what Bruce had instructed, save your addition of turning off the lamp. Even after minutes spent gasping air into your lungs, waiting for an Uber to arrive, pretending that conversation with him had just been a figment of your imagination, you still struggled to catch your breath walking through the foyer.

Half of it was nerves about him going out again so soon, and the other was a sensation you couldn’t pin down, but it had you sweating and shaking. Fear? Anxiety? Sadness? Tension! More than anything, you’d felt tense. Bruce was intimidating, especially so when he held a metaphorical pair of scissors. And when they were aimed at you.

Mar had answered your third phone call as you walked down the city hall steps, berating you for interrupting their ‘jam session’. Faint guitar chords were heard in the background, the acoustics isolated and muffled. It sounded like a house party. She dismissed your concern about staying away, finally conceding and telling you she’d avoid it for a few weeks. “And to think I was practicing all my trivia skills for nothing.”

You should’ve realized by the beanie pulled nearly covering his eyes, but your usual vigilance had been halved as you came down from your interaction with Bruce. Sliding into the seat had you wincing at the pain in your thigh; you berated yourself for not bringing Tylenol with you. It’d been shockingly effective; you’d barely felt your injury on the walk here.

The drive was normal for the first half, so much so that you relaxed against the window and stared blankly at the people milling the main street, speed blurring them like ants. As the streets wound toward your apartment complex, you thought about how you could’ve feigned innocence, inputting the destination as the area of the fight. “Get a ride?” You’d tell him, when he glared at you and questioned your arrival. “I thought you meant here!” It was embarrassing roleplaying conversations with him, so you rid yourself of the thought. You’d feel it all in the morning and think about what to do next when your head was less scrambled.

The driver took a sharp left, cutting the lights as he pulled into an alley. You realized a second too late to reach for the door, ready to drop, roll and run. He’d child-locked it, and by the time you manually unclicked the lock, he pointed a gun at your head. The beanie slipped higher, and you could see clearly it was Miller. No other thoughts formed as the reality of having death pointed at your skull set in.

“Try to leave and I’ll blow your brains out.” He had two black eyes and a smushed nose. His lip was busted open and you swore he was missing a tooth. The rest of him was covered in thick industrial clothing. Bruce had effective punches. He hadn’t been on the guy more than a few seconds. Even Bruce began to slip away as you felt the cold metal jam into your temple. He pressed it harder and harder with every word he spoke. “Who the fuck was that guy?”

The dizzying adrenaline made the blood leave your body and rush into your head; he pressed right on a nerve that coaxed out every last bit of sting and throb from your concussion. You could barely focus on what he was saying. Breathe. Breathe. Your body stilled outside of your heartbeat and wincing eyelids.

“I’m not gonna ask again, bitch. Who the fuck was the guy last night?”

You shook your head. “I don’t know,”

“Bullshit. Call him.”

You stared back at him, unable to move. He stuck the barrel of the gun into your mouth, slacked open with debilitating fear. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t breathe. You slapped around for your phone that had fallen at your side, unable to look down or move your face even an inch.

“Show me your call log.”

You strained your eyes to look down, fumbling with your apps, accidentally opening the likes of Old Navy and Target, tears threatening to slip with each passing second. You held it up to him, hands almost too shaky for the screen to be legible. ‘Alfred’ was listed for an eleven minute call at 11:49pm Wednesday. “It’s my, my stepdad,”

“Call him.” He pressed it and held it out to you, clacking the tip of the gun against your front teeth. You swallowed, thinking death only seconds or minutes in the horizon. He picked up on the third ring. Not long enough for you to plan much. Or at all. The man was deadly serious, his eyes a frenzied mess of bleary red as he jostled the gun against the roof of your mouth.

“What’s going on, Miss?”

The man withdrew the barrel just enough for you to speak unencumbered. You rushed the words to refuse him time to say something that would give him away. “Hey Dad.” You let out a small sigh. “I just wanted to call to see how the cats were doing.” You paused, then hurried more out with a hollow laugh. The man narrowed his eyes, cocking the gun. “Probably lost on the upper floors of the house. Or stealing some soup, you know how they love it.”

You were saying too much. If the roles were reversed, you’d think you were speaking in code. A predetermined plan. A keyword to let people know things were not alright.

Alfred chuckled on the other end. “I think Camelot is nestled on my bed. Everything go well at the meeting? After your call last night, I’ve been worried.” His tone was conversational, but concerned. You wanted to fucking bawl, reach out to him and wrap him in a tight, tight hug, mutter a thousand thanks. It felt like there was an ocean between the both of you. He’d fucking caught on.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You stuttered forward. “And just more boring election stuff. Not much to go off of.” It was fucking incredible you could speak. You were starting to regain some more of your breathing. The clouds were beginning to lift. The environment slowly moving back into focus. Even with him however many miles away, you knew he’d be looking out for you, and do his best to help.

Alfred sighed, a light but impatient one. He rustled something in the background that sounded like metal on metal. “Well, hurry back. I’ll bring over some lasagna later. I have your locale, but… the streets are dangerous at night. I worry. Your screams were terrible.”

Maybe not as subtle as you would have liked, but you knew what he was trying to do, and you trusted him more than yourself in this moment. He muttered something. “The ricotta… Jane, I told you we needed the automated mixer.” He let out another sigh. “Call me when you get back, sweets. I’ve got to put some muscle into this.”

Alfred ended the call. You tried not to have it feel like the beginning of the end. If it took Bruce, or Batman, or the police longer than it took for him to shoot you in the head…

He drew closer to you, hucking spit onto you before he spoke. It slid down the sides of your nose. “Who was the guy?”

It was difficult to speak. “I don’t know,”

“YOU KNOW!” He jammed the gun further into your mouth, and you kept your mouth wide as you felt a small chipping.

The words were swallowed against the thickness of the gun. “I don’t, I just screamed and then he came and, then the, police,” He pressed the gun to your uvula and you gagged. It was humiliating, and your blood boiled when you saw him grin at it.

He spit in your face again, this time just below your eye, and pressed the gun until it scraped the back of your throat. Tears sprung to your eyes and poured down your cheeks in reflex. He ripped the gun out of your mouth, keeping it focused at your sternum. He cursed and slammed a fist against his seat. He began muttering, his eyes ablaze. “No one has ever fought me like that, no one but...” He punched the center console, sending a part of the plastic flying in front of the passenger seat. “Immediately booked, too. Only happens with him.”

Oh. You opened your mouth to speak but he shouted at you instead. “You’re gonna help me, or you’re fucking dead.”

He taunted you by shoving the gun toward you. You considered making a break for it, but figured you wouldn’t get far before all you saw was black. How the fuck did Bruce face this every night? Even if his suit was bulletproof? You stared back at him while he laid out his plan, starting to wonder if Bruce was actually a masochist.

“I know you got that Wayne guy in your pocket.”

It was whiplash having them mentioned so close to each other, and made you paranoid the man was reading your mind. You began to shake your head but he cocked the gun again, grazing the trigger. “You’re gonna leave, and you’re gonna get him on our side.”

“I don’t—”

“If you alert anyone to this shit, I’ll hunt you down and kill you with my bare fucking hands.”

“I only did an interv—”

“That’s more than anyone else fucking gets.” He bared his teeth in a snarl. “You’re gonna get him to give me his best fuckin lawyers. And get me back in school, full fucking ride.”

You didn’t have a response queued, which seemed to escalate him. He lunged, grabbing you by the throat with his left hand. He smelled like cigarettes, booze, and Drops. That familiar citrus scent; the type that made you afraid to put it in your eyes. The type of acidic smell that made you wonder how every Drophead hadn’t yet lost their vision. Some did. His hands were rough and dirty as his fingers closed on your larynx.

“That’s the only money I fucking get; I’ll get life before going back to Point.” He sniffed, adjusting his posture. His arm strength was faltering. You wondered if you could disarm him yourself… knock his left arm into his right before he pulled the trigger... “If he gets wind of this little deal, I’m ending you.”

Crown Point. A neighborhood absolutely decimated by the flood, and more or less abandoned by the local government. It was entirely written off, as the highest percentage of the houseless and impoverished population lived there. You didn’t know too much about Gotham’s ecosystem, but you did know that they didn’t give a fuck about Point. You nodded. “Okay.” It came out in a croak. “I won’t tell.” It was surreal feeling a wash of relaxation pour over you, but you understood it was either being held like this, or looking down the barrel of something that could kill you before you’d even realize what was happening.

He released his grip and you sputtered. “You have until the thirteenth to kill it. I’ll kill you and your friend.” His gun was lowered, but still pointed to you, like he’d forgotten he was holding a powerful, terrifying weapon. His gaze focused above you and his glare set. He spun in his seat and floored it before you even realized what was happening; the alley was long and straight, but thin. As the bricks around you blurred, you thought about what had the highest survival rate—staying in the car, or jumping?

The speed of the car made you stay inside; you even thought about buckling your seatbelt as you noticed the end creep closer and closer; a giant brick wall with a hard ninety-degree turn. Miller kept looking in his rearview mirror, each time nearly slamming the car into the side of the tight alley.

The wall was a football field away. Your hand shot for the seatbelt as Miller realized he needed to brake, squealing tires skidding, slipping on the concrete. Pure instinct, nothing more, made your call; you jammed open the door as far as it could, sparks flying off of it as it slammed against the brick, and tossed yourself out ass-first.

The first part of your body to hit was your left thigh, leaving you screeching on the impact. The second was your back, knocking the wind entirely out of you. You had the good sense to tuck your hands behind your head, and you felt the knuckles skid against the rough, chunky street. Almost in unison, you heard a petrifying, deafening crash of metal crunching. You laid there gasping at the sky, your vision swirling, heart racing, leg throbbing, hands numb.

The dark sky above only made you more dizzy, giving you nothing to concentrate on and cling to. You heard footsteps further back from whence you came, and the sound of a car door wrenching open. You sat up on your elbows, forcing yourself back up. Your body felt battered and bruised, your left leg now bordering on unusable, but you managed to get up to your knees. You panted at the ground until you caught Bruce’s cologne run past. He wasn’t in the suit. No!

You reached out and grabbed his ankle, shouting weakly for him to stop. He shook you off but you yelled louder, lunging forward, scraping your elbows as you barely caught his calf with both hands. You heard more creaking, and suddenly Bruce’s face was inches from yours, dropped to a squat. His cheeks were flushed and his breath was hard and full against your sweaty, spit-sodden cheeks. His brow furrowed, his mouth curled down into an exasperated scowl. “What are you doing?!”

You glanced above him to the left, noticing Miller jump face-first out of the car, bolting down the turn in the alley. Bruce turned to look with you, but felt the tightening of your hands around him when he tried to move forward. Your fingernails dug into his skin, even through his pant leg. “Stop, don’t.”

“He’s gonna get away—”

“STAY!”

This was the first time you’d yelled at him, and it was like scolding a dog. You didn’t have time to feel bad yet, letting your arms limp and lying flat on your stomach. Disgusting, wet, smelly ground. You caught the rest of your breath, staring intently at his feet. You could hear him scowling, groaning and mumbling.

You took a few beats to catch your breath and orient to your surroundings. It took a few minutes to catch yourself, bring your chest back to a normal percussion. Took half as long for your eyes to unblur, but they kept darting across the ground, and the first few bricks along the sides of the alley.

“Let’s go,” Bruce grabbed your wrist and tried to help you up, but you weren’t ready yet. Your head swirled, the pain was just beginning to surpass the adrenaline…

“Let’s go.” He pulled harder, his voice cracking. You yelped, your knee skidding on the upheaval. You slammed back down on all fours, tears springing to your eyes. You couldn’t see him, but you could see his feet pacing. Tight, muffled sounds came from above you. You dry-heaved against the cement, nothing spurring but hot bile that soured you, furthering more pitiful attempts at retching. Your arms shook and fingers scraped the jagged ground as you tried to sit up on your own again.

Every time he saw you in an alleyway, he wanted to jump off a cliff; seeing you unable to stand, gasping, sputtering against the ground in one threatened to kill him. His cheeks got hot, the world got wobbly, and his legs felt like jello. He probably looked like an asshole, but the flashbacks were ripping at him, his feet unable to be stilled. If you were anyone else he might’ve just ran. Phoned Gordon. Maybe if it were anyone else he wouldn’t have panicked, though, and he didn’t want to interrogate that.

You held out your arms for him to help you up. He took a deep breath and knelt down, focusing on the mechanics of the moment. He held the brunt of your weight, and you stumbled like that to his car on the street, your left leg a mess of pain, your head rapidly catching up. You gasped into the back seat as your thigh scraped against the leather. He shut the door gently, but quickly.

He drove you around until you were on the outskirts of town, and pulled over beside a throng of trees, the gravel loud under the tires as he parked. He turned to look at you from the driver’s seat and you flinched, glancing down at where the gun had been. Without fanfare, he got out and sidled in beside you in the backseat. It hurt to turn your head, but you did enough to at least see some of his body in your vision.

“What happened?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but he pummeled more questions your way. “Why’d you get in the car with him?” “Couldn’t you tell it was him?” “What was he doing?” “What did he want?”

You held a feeble hand out to him before moving it to your temple. Gently, you set your head against the leather seat, needing a moment to gather yourself. Your blood was still pumping like you were sprinting fifty miles, everything, everything wildly unstable. By some miracle Bruce obliged and stopped talking.

You didn’t know if it had been ten seconds or ten minutes by the time you opened your eyes again and started to speak, and you kept an arm outstretched to keep his interrogations at bay. “He wants the charges dropped.” You swallowed hard, trying to think of anything else besides the pain in your head and leg—or how bad the chip might be. Your voice was dry and scratchy. “Wanted me to use your connection. For lawyers. Retract our statements.” You took another breather, heard him draw in a breath to speak, and shoved the rest out before he could. “I stopped you going after him.” Another gulp, a wince. You’d never been more desperate for sweet, sweet Tylenol… “Because he also.” It was impossible to speak. You let your head fall back in failure. He needs to know this. “He knows whoever fought him last night was Batman. Felt it. Same fighting. Feeling. Booking.” Your lashes fluttered open with a rush of pain in a circle around your skull.

Bruce didn’t know how to respond; he didn’t want you to have to speak more without medication, so he instead faced the back seat, head spinning. You spoke anyway, confirming a fear he’d had since the day his parents died in that alley, a fear that had been poked, prodded, and split entirely open seeing Alfred in the hospital. “Said if you got wind of it, he’d kill me. And Mar.”

You bolted up, startling him. “Mar!”

He sat up and shook his head at you. “I’ll watch her. I’m taking you back to my place.”

You did not want to go there, but your brain was slow to think of anything, slow to form words, and by the time he shut the driver’s door and started for Wayne Tower, you realized he was right. His house was a fortress of safety. Wasn’t like he could be in two places at once.

As the trees thinned out and gravel turned to road, he told you to lay back as flat as you could. He’d be going through the front entry, which had ramped up security now. He muttered something about reporters lingering on the grounds after the interview, and you struggled to focus on it. Being horizontal in a moving car was nauseating when you weren’t in body-buzzing misery, but it was excruciating now. If you had the strength to sit up again, you would’ve. Fuck the paparazzi.

Bruce’s mind was a mess.

Not even one week since the interview’s release and you’d been held at gunpoint over him.

It was hellish attempting to concentrate on the road. It would be hard to convince you to leave Gotham, but it had to be done. Another conversation with you, and one he would ensure didn’t go awry. He swore he felt his teeth splitting against each other as he mulled over how to bring it up, and when. Not now. Tomorrow. You needed to recuperate, and he needed to find Miller.

Once in his garage, you scooted yourself up by fumes of sheer will so Bruce didn’t have to help you out. Forcing each foot in front of the other as he pushed the door open to the foyer, where Alfred stood, holding his glasses in his hands. Bruce walked ahead of you and gestured for Alfred to step into the kitchen for a minute. You supported yourself against the doorframe, taking out your phone to message Mar.

The screen assaulted you, peppering your vision with black spots and squiggly lines.

The guy from last night got released on bail, and he held me at gunpoint trying to get information out of me. I was able to escape, but I’m worried he’ll come after you. Stay inside, officers will be watching the area to see if he tries to come after you.

Her location showed she was at home; apparently, the ‘jam session’ was being held at her place; you looked up to remind Bruce to leave, but he was already gone, Alfred walking toward you with a lukewarm smile. He handed over a glass of water and the same little white pill, both of which you took with a desperate gulp. “Miss. So glad you’re alright. Bruce informed me about what happened. Do you know the address of your friend?”

You told him, and he texted it to him. A strange, temporary thrill flit through you thinking that he was just a few levels below, suiting up. So fucking weird. So fucking wild. Alfred helped you up the stairs, escorting you to the same room as last Spring. “Our housekeeper keeps things tidy, so you shouldn’t be left wanting. I’ll grab fresh clothing.”

Standing in the room again was one of the most disorienting experiences of your life. Everything was the same, as if you had left it yesterday. Almost as if he hadn’t left, Alfred reappeared in the doorway, holding a pair of black sweatpants and matching tee. Before he left, he asked if you wanted anything to eat, or any company. “These events can be traumatizing.”

You declined it all, wanting desperately to both be alone and be smothered by someone else, but confused enough by it you chose solitude. You thanked him, grabbed the clothes, and exchanged a solemn look. After an encouraging nod, he left, letting you know the same standards were in place; if you wanted anything from the kitchen, or to visit in his study, you were free to.

You slunk out of your dress and threw it into the corner, hastily pulling on the outfit you were desperate to forget was likely Bruce’s. The feat was easily won, though it was tight in some places, loose in others, and entirely too tall—because your nose was too blocked with snot you couldn’t smell anything.

The next two hours passed in a montage. Sitting on the side of the bed in a blurry haze. Every time you looked at your phone was like a knife to the chest recalling your dad’s text in June, which led to the room with the doctor, which led to the wheelchair, which led to the trial, which, which… your brain was numb to pain at this point.

Your limbs moved in slow-motion when they did adjust to laying. Mar had texted you that she was okay, and she’d heeded your warning. She’d asked if you were okay, and you’d said you were safe. She didn’t comment past that, only giving occasional check-ins to let you know she hadn’t been captured. At one point you’d texted Alfred through a mess of tears, asking him if he’d heard any updates from Bruce. He responded immediately, explaining that his suit was active and on Mar’s street. You let your head hit the pillow hard after that, which reminded you of the clack of the gun against your teeth and its pressure against your head.

Your head ached. Jabbed. Punctured. Shouted to be witnessed. You chose not to do anything about it. You took a selfie on your phone to check on your tooth, and noticed a noticeable tick on an incisor. Your cheeks were crunchy with dried spit, and you bolted to the bathroom as fast as your hobbling leg would allow. You scrubbed your face in the sink, taking the soap bar and shredding it against your skin to erase the attack.

In the mirror you noticed the bleeding crusties along your knuckles and the rippled shreds of skin hanging off your elbows. You plucked the shreds off carefully, giving your arms and hands a thorough wash. The skinning was artificial. No gravel lodged anywhere. You felt the wear on your body and slumped back to the room, landing hard against the pillow.

You woke up with a scream.

The gun’s muzzle had penetrated your skin, digging deep into your flesh, making hot, wet blood stream down your face in a thick river. You’d tried to scream, but blood had erupted from your esophagus, mixing with the vomit curdling your stomach. It felt like you sat there like that forever, screaming and gurgling and writhing before he’d pulled the trigger.

Apparently it’d been a dream.

A knock on your door made you jump, another yelp escaping.

“Can I come in?”

Bruce. You shouted a yes, or at least something similar, as you tried to catch your breath. It felt so impossibly real, every sensation filling you still, like your head was still dripping, your mouth was still full…

He opened the door, fiddling with the button on his pants. He was shirtless, his torso and hair dripping wet from what appeared to be him fresh out of the shower. His eyes were wide, searching around the room before landing on you trembling in bed. He noticed Alfred brought you the outfit he’d set out for himself—no wonder he couldn’t find it. The sight of you in it made him anxious.

“What happened?”

You thought you mumbled “Nightmare” but you weren’t sure. Sniffled, soft cries filled the space between the both of you. You were staring down at your hands fiddling with the top sheet, rubbing along the seam.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded, then shook your head, his question propelling barely-quelled sobs out of you.

Bruce didn’t know what to do. At all. He figured all he could do was offer logistical support. “Need more Tylenol?”

The vulnerable peculiarity of the situation spurred a laugh as you sniffed up more tears, your voice muffled from your stuffed nose. “It’s like I’m a toddler.”

He didn’t know what to say to that. He had no idea what a toddler acted like. He waited, awkwardly, for your sniffing to pause, and spoke. “Miller’s been booked.” You looked up to him, interest piqued.

“Found him walking around your friend’s neighborhood. Watched Gordon take him in. He had an unregistered weapon on him too. He’ll be in there a while.” He hoped it would be some consolation, because you looked like you needed it. He forced himself not to think about what else you might need; thinking about you was starting to feel like holding his breath.

You sighed, your shoulders dropping a few inches. He looked away, too much relief filling him seeing it. “Thanks.”

He nodded, then turned to leave. “If you need anything, just shout.”

You nodded in response, and the door had almost shut when you spoke, tentative. The question not only gnawed at you now, it had been one of the first things you’d thought about with a fucking gun to your skull. “How do you do it?”

He did not want to go back in… He propped the door open and sidled halfway. “Do what?”

“Get shot at every night, it’s fucking horrifying.” More heat sprung to your face, and you pressed your palms to your eyes to force them back.

Admittedly, he’d forgotten how affecting those experiences could be. Even two decades later he couldn’t think too specifically back to Crime Alley or he’d succumb to panic. He stepped the rest of the way in, ashamed that he’d been subtly trying to slip away and ignore you.

You peered at him with a tear-streaked face and he averted his eyes, goosebumps prickling his skin. He swallowed back a lump that’d found its way to his throat. “Already happened, so. Not much to lose I guess.”

He wasn’t looking at you, but you couldn’t stop looking at him. Why did he think so low of himself? Why didn’t he think his life was worth protecting? That night he’d talked about feeling like he’d died with his parents, and suddenly his ghostlike demeanor made a lot of sense. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.” You’d caught your breath by this point, the haunting images falling back the longer he hung around. “I know you probably hate to hear it, but I am.”

You weren’t surprised when he deflected it. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

You wiped the pool of tears in the troughs of your cheeks. “It’s not even close.”

That struck a nerve. Few things had been more exasperating to him growing up than having every person’s problems minimized while he was around. “Sorry, Bruce, I mean, it’s nothing compared to what you went through.” “I shouldn’t be talking.” “What do I have to complain about?” Somehow, his words blurted out harsher and gentler than intended. “You’re allowed to be hurt by it.”

His face was contorted into a grimace. You didn’t know what else to do, the vibe entirely shifted, so you just sat, and nodded. When he turned to leave again, anxiety barreled into you like a truck. “Can you turn on the light?”

Tick. You squinted to adjust, the monsters creeping back into the closet.

“If you want anything, don’t hesitate.” He shut the door.

Your dreams had been shitty, but they hadn’t been horrifying.

It was four in the morning when you woke up next, officially well past needing another dose. Forgetting Bruce had essentially offered on-call service, you padded your way out to the stairwell, and jumped with his shadow already at the foot of the stairs. “I told you to shout if you need anything.”

He had a shirt on now, something you were grateful for. “I wanted more meds, thought I might want a walk.”

“How’s your leg?” His voice echoed in the foyer as he walked to the kitchen. He returned in a similar fashion as Alfred, but faster. You’d only made it down a few steps. As he walked to hand you them, you saw the bags under his eyes, creeping in under the moonlight. How every blink looked intentional and forced, designed to keep him standing and conscious. His shoulders were pulled forward, ragged with exhaustion.

You didn’t want to trouble him, scooping the pill out of his hand and grabbing the glass. “Hurts.” You drank it, popped it, and walked slowly back to your sleeping quarters. “Thanks.”

Except… standing in the doorway made you pathetically sad. Gazing at the big, empty room that wasn’t yours in the big, empty tower. Every anxious, miserable thought crowded closer. Your body ached, your spirit was absolutely obliterated. You’d almost died today. I almost DIED today.

More than anything, you wanted to be held. And you didn’t hear his footsteps leaving.

You squeezed your eyes shut until you saw stars, as if it would make it easier. “Can I have a hug?” The request was needy, breathy, feeble. You couldn’t muster a shit to give as the abyss circled you. It was silent.

Bruce froze. He wanted to deny you; after all, what good was a hug if it was hollow? If he was to force you out in the morning, planning ways to convince you to never, ever come back?

You looked over your shoulder, a slow, shakey glance dripping with sorrow. His lashes fluttered as his lips pressed into a thin line. He set the glass on the ground, and his body finished walking up the steps before he nodded. “Sure.” Your eyes focused on the floor as you stepped toward each other, as if looking him in the eye would scare you both off.

When you fell into him it didn’t feel hollow. He felt so full of empathy he could burst, his arms moving instinctually around your back like he’d hugged you a thousand times. His face naturally settled into concern, his chest caving in ever so slightly to welcome yours. You whimpered at the collision of your bodies. In dissent to his earlier apprehension, he pulled you closer, deepening the hug he realized you both so desperately needed.

Falling into his arms was easy. Wrapping your arms around his back was easier. Wailing into his shirt while you clumped fists of it around his back felt as simple as breathing; without beckoning, instinctual, like hot sand lapping up its first wave. The release fell out of you, and you didn’t even register you could be too loud, too much, or too rough. He was as sturdy as the oak tree in his backyard, and just as unyielding—except for now, as his strong hands wrapped around your back and squeezed.

Time paused and the world stopped turning as you were gifted a portal for your pain to fall into. A river to erode the rocks piled in your stomach. You clutched him, your chin tucked into your chest, soaking his shirt until it clung to your cheeks. You bawled until you were coughing, until you felt rugburn on your palm from fisting the cotton so tightly. When you started to shake, he hugged you tighter.

You finally managed to croak out a word, but your mind was undecided between ‘sorry’ and ‘thank you’. “Th-orry.”

You shriek-laughed and cried some more, feeling a gentle rumble from his chest. The humor was quickly lost as you sunk into the sadness again, beginning to hiccup as your cries intensified. Time evaded you as you stood there sniffing, hiccuping, and crying, with your eyes squeezed shut, for what simultaneously felt like five seconds and twenty years.

As your sobs quieted, and your hiccups intensified, you were forced to right yourself, unlatching your hands from around him and wiping your eyes, peeling your skin off his soaked clothes. Your head throbbed. You needed more water, a shower, to sleep, you needed to do anything besides what you were currently doing. He didn’t want this.

You cleared your gummy throat and moved further back to fully wipe your cheeks, tucking your chin under the collar of your shirt—his shirt—to soak up the water. You felt how hot and puffy your face was, the tired sting of your strained eyes. Bruce must not have slept for two days at this rate; what the hell were you doing? I’m just making things worse on him again.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

No conscious thought brought your eyes up to his, only shock at hearing him sound so gentle. His tone was soothing. His face matched it, which sent a jolt through your system remembering, seeing this was BRUCE. You stepped back, embarrassed tears threatening to overwhelm you. “I’m sorry.” You shook your head, realization sinking in staring at his wrinkled, soaked shirt that you’d just bawled—

“I don’t mind.” He gestured toward the kitchen down the steps, turning his body with it like he’d already made up his mind. You didn’t know it, but the embrace had temporarily quelled his inhibitions, replacing them with a profound desire to help. At least for tonight, he wanted to sit with you as long as you’d let him. Hear every bit of the pain that kept you from turning off the light. “Let’s talk.”

Your cheeks heated, intimidated by his new tenderness. “You’ve been awake so long,”

“Is that a no?”

You sighed, your shoulders rising high and dropping low in a huff. “You need to sleep.”

“I’m not tired.”

You wanted to cry again. He’d been so obviously weary. “Yes, you are.”

“I can wait.”

“I can wait. My problems will still be here in the morning.”

He hesitated, but obliged. He asked if you wanted more water before he went up, and you let him. He handed it off to you without fanfare, like this was your nightly routine. “Shout if you want anything.”

You walked up the stairway above his floor, and walked into the barren bedroom. You took a sip of the chilled water, feeling the weightiness of the glass, and turned off the light.

After a few minutes of stirring, you couldn’t ignore going to the bathroom. Padding out of your room turned into sneaking to check on Bruce’s door, which was half open. It hadn’t been that way in Spring. Your heart caught on the thought he’d done it so he wouldn’t miss if you yelled.

You’d been correct in your estimation of his fatigue; that, or he was the fastest sleeper you’d ever known. He was fully conked on his bed, facing the door, his mouth slacked ever so slightly open, the deep rise and fall of his—bare—chest matching his gentle snores. He was on his right side, his left arm half slung over. Your eyes followed down to his shirt abandoned on the ground beside the bed. Even in the low light you could see darker patches from where you’d filled the fibers with your tears.

You forced your feet toward the bathroom, struck with self-consciousness at having spied on him. The marble was cool on the soles of your feet, still not used to walking barefoot on floors with no give. You sat in the small hallway bathroom, the toilet seat frigid against your flushed skin.

You stared absently at the wooden door. The shiny golden handle. The unmoving glint of the static overhead lighting against it. The total silence was unsettling. Both of your apartments in Gotham had ample noise pollution being downtown. Back at home, there was a small littering of the occasional car passing through, a coyote, or Walter licking himself.

This silence was empty. Your mind didn’t waste a second filling it.

You wanted another hug from him. Your heartbeat quickened thinking about it. You moved your focus to the floor, the downward movement bringing Bruce to your nose. You lifted your shirt to bury your nose in it, bringing more depth to the smell. It was ambery and warm. In addition to whatever fragrant detergent he used, he used some sort of masculine body wash.

For a minute you sat there basking in it. Feeling held, wanted, and seen, without shying away. Letting your body relax into its intuitive trust in him. Taking a full, lung-satisfying breath into his comfort. The comfort of being held by him. The comfort of him being alive. The space he’d made for you. Even venturing into the what-if of what he might have said, how he might have looked at you, if you’d poured your grief in front of him.

But it was short-lived. With greater force than your appreciation swept in a current of shame. He didn’t want your tears. He probably thought he had to take them. Had to humor you. Had to make sure you were okay after the lie.

You walked back to your room still in a slurry of painful, self-flagellating emotion. You’d have to clarify in the morning. Tell him it was because of your mom, and the stuff online, and your ex-friends, and the gun shoved in your mouth. The attack. The threats. But you couldn’t very well leave out his attempt, could you? Would it make it seem like you didn’t care about him?

A thought dawned on you before you went to sleep, spurred by the flashback sensation of the gun on your temples. I could’ve just done my paper on the club shooting. Then none of this pain would’ve happened. To either of us. You wanted to curl up and die.

Distracted by the mystery of Batman and the reclusiveness of Bruce Wayne. Forcing his hand. Denting the doors of his life breaking in. Shattering all the glass inside, stealing the valuables. It was pathetic. You were pathetic. A pathetic, annoying, disgusting liar sitting in this room for the second time, of your own doing, of your own mistakes, your own fucked priorities and selfish interests.

But it was a lie that was keeping him alive.

After an hour of tossing and turning, fighting the harassment you flung at yourself with reckless abandon, you forced yourself to get up. You remembered something you learned in therapy when you were younger, something to stop these anxious, ruminating thoughts, to help the room feel less like you were drowning in it. Get an orange. Pay attention to it. Peel it slowly. Focus on the texture in your mouth. The zing. The juiciness in its crunch.

Opening up his fridge, you realized they didn’t have much outside of veggies, protein shakes, and meat. Absolutely not wanting to cook, and being put off by the grainy texture of past protein supplements, you opted for a stray apple in the back of the fridge. It was a bit bruised. You didn’t mind.

When you shut the fridge, the freezer popped slightly open. Instead of just shutting it, you peeked inside—more meat, and a tub of Breyer’s. The apple fell out of your hand and you felt wobbly. More memories flooded your veins already primed to panic. Just one week ago. Hospital. Lingering. On autopilot you shut the freezer, swooped the apple and brought it to the sink to rinse. The water was freezing on your hands. You hoped Bruce wasn’t a light sleeper. You didn’t want to subject him to you again.

The apple was surprisingly crisp, save a few spongy parts. You ate it as you walked up the stairs—one bite per step. You shut your eyes and let your senses guide you, zooming in and slowing down. The tang of the apple. The crunch on the first bite. The coolness of the marble steps. The height and slickness of the railing as it skimmed your palm. Crunch. Step.

You made it back to your room calmer than you left it. The apple was nearly eaten to the core, and you discarded it in the trashcan by the side table. You slipped into bed methodically—left leg, slowly, carefully, then the right. First cover, then comforter, then head to pillow. Eyes closed. Slow, deep, gentle breathing. The only thing you had to do right now was sleep. The only task you had to do was let your body relax. Everything else could wait until morning.

Bruce Wayne could wait until the morning.

[willalove75]

Alcina's New Maid Pt. 13 Lady Dimitrescu x Reader

Summary: Donna arrives at the castle to help tend to your wounds.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI

Tags: Pain, some blood, broken bones, angstttt

Notes: Part 13! I use Google Translate for all Romanian so I'm sorry if it's not accurate! If anyone speaks Romanian and notices anything that is inaccurate please let me know and I will fix it!

Click here for the rest of the series

Alcina cradled you in her arms for a few more minutes in an attempt to calm the both of you down. She was able to collect herself but you just laid there with tears streaming down your face, trembling in her arms. Never in your life have you been in this much pain, everything hurt, every inch of your body was in pain. Memories of tumbling down the stairs, the look in Stefana's eyes before and after she pushed you, watching Alcina's claws pierce through her all replayed in your head on an endless loop. You were so out of it, so engrossed in the memories that were haunting you you were barely able to register the fact that Alcina had been wiping away your tears or that she was placing small, soft kisses across your cheeks and forehead. When she spoke, her voice sounded so far away, like she was on the other end of a long hallway even though you were tucked tightly into her chest.

Looking down at you, Alcina saw the far away look in your eyes, she knew that you weren't okay and it killed her that there was nothing she could do to help ease your thoughts at the moment. There were more important things that had to be done right now, taking care of your wounds was the top priority. As she adjusted you in her arms she realized the fabric in the crook of her elbow where you head was resting was damp and clinging to her skin. Gently pulling her arm back, she saw blood staining her silk sleeve.

"Shit." She muttered under her breath.

The thought of chastising herself for cursing crossed her mind for a moment and she rolled her eyes in response. How can she possibly be concerned about swearing right now when you're broken and bleeding in her arms?

Realizing you must have split your head open when you fell down the stairs, she cursed herself for not realizing it sooner. She saw the puddle of blood under you but you had so many cuts and injuries, everything reeked of blood and she was in such a panic she didn't realize you had a head wound.

Alcina knew she had to take care of it right now. Even though it's been less than ten minutes since she found you at the bottom of the stairs, she didn't want you to lose too much blood. Her original plan was to wait for Donna but this needed immediate attention.

"Draga," she softly says. "Draga mea, I have to sit you up."

Alcina's warm voice washes over you, the sound bringing you the smallest amount of comfort as your thoughts tortured you.

"Draga, you have a head wound, I have to look at it." Looking down at you, the far away look in your eyes hasn't faltered. She doesn't even know if you can hear her. "I'm going to sit you up now, okay?"

She takes a deep breath and exhales, knowing no matter what she does, you're going to be in pain. As carefully as slowly as she can, she starts to sit you up.

You're violently ripped away from the endless loop of traumatic memories when you feel a sharp pain radiate through your body as she moves you. Crying out, you grasp onto her dress tighter with your good hand and lean into her.

The moment she hears you cry out in pain, Alcina stops moving. Tears fill her eyes once more as she watches you tremble.

"I know, I know it hurts, I'm sorry." She says as she tries to soothe you.

She notices the far away look in your eyes start to return and she knows she needs to get you back before you go there again. Even if it's just so she can sit you up.

"Y/n," she says, cupping your face. "Y/n, look at me." As you begin to dissociate once more you hear Alcina's voice, it's muffled, but she sounds closer than she was before. "Y/n, I need you to look at me." She starts gently caressing your face, trying to bring you back.

Her voice begins to sound more and more clear and you feel the sensation of her fingers gently gliding across your skin. You blink a few times and her face begins to come into focus.

"That's it, good job my love, keep looking at me."

As your senses are starting to come back, so does the pain. Alcina's face comes into focus to only be blurred again by tears.

"I know it hurts, I know." She coos. "Y/n, I have to sit you up, okay? Can I do that? I have to look at your head."

You nod and immediately wince at the shooting pain you feel in the back of your head. Alcina slowly and carefully begins to sit you up again. The pain is almost unbearable but after a few seconds you're sitting up in her lap, resting against her chest.

"Good job." She whispers as she kisses your head.

Gently leaning your chest against her arm, she pulls you away from her just enough for her to see the gash on the back of your head. She carefully examines it, moving away the pieces of hair matted with blood to get a good look at it. It's not that big, but it's big and deep enough to certainly need stitches. As she's examining you the door opens, looking up, she see's Bela and Daniela standing in the doorway.

Alcina's heart breaks again when she sees the looks and dried tears on her daughters faces. Daniela quickly wipes away fresh tears as she looks at you in her mothers arms and Bela does her best to hold back hers.

"Can one of you please grab the first aid kit?"

Bela immediately dissolves into flies and disappears into the bathroom, returning a few seconds later next to her mother with the first aid kit.

"Gauze?" Bela asks. Alcina nods her head. "Should we put a salve on it?" She asks.

"Not yet, I want to wait for Donna before administering anything. We just need to apply light pressure to the wound so it doesn't keep bleeding." Alcina says as she lays you against her chest once more.

Bela hands her the gauze and Alcina places it against the wound and lightly applies pressure. You wince for a second but the pain from the pressure subsides quickly. Alcina holds the back of your head, both to comfort you and to keep the gauze in place, and gently rubs small circles across your back. The faraway look in your eyes returns and she places a soft kiss to your forehead. Looking over to the doorway, Alcina sees Daniela still standing there, her tears now rapidly falling down her face once more.

"Come here, darling." Alcina says.

Daniela slowly walks over to the three of you, her eyes wide as she scans every cut, scrape and bruise starting to form on your skin. The hand Alcina had resting against your back reaches up and cups Daniela's face as she wipes away her tears with her thumb.

"E în regulă iubirea mea, nu-ți fie frică." Alcina says softly. (It's okay my love, don't be afraid.)

"O să fie bine? Nu arată bine mami." Daniela says as she starts to cry more. (Is she going to be okay? She doesn't look okay mommy.)

"Gândăcelul meu totul va fi bine." Alcina says before pulling Daniela closer and placing a long, soft kiss on her forehead. (Calm down my bug, everything will be fine.)

A light knock on the door pulls Alcina, Daniela and Bela's attention away. Looking up, Alcina sees a maid standing at the door. She looks terrified, her free hand has the fabric of her dress balled up in it as the other one lightly trembles.

"Pardon the interruption my Lady." She says with a shaking voice. "Lady Beneviento is here."

"HEY! What about me?!" You hear Angie yell from the hallway.

Alcina rolls her eyes at the doll.

"Please send them in."

The maid walks away and Donna enters the room with a large bag in her hand. Angie walks in after her, immediately sensing the somber mood.

"You all look like someone died! She just took a nosedive down the stairs, didn't she?!" She says. Every muscle in Alcina's body tenses and her eyes narrow at the doll. "Who would have thought that big 'ol scary claws here would fall for a human!" Angie says, walking around you and observing you. "And a tiny one for that matter! It's a miracle we're not here because you accidentally crushed her!"

"One more word out of you and I will pop your little head clean off of that stick you call a neck I swear to Mother Miranda I am not in the mood for your antics right now." Alcina snaps.

"Please don't, Alcina." Donna calmly says. Alcina's eyes shift from Angie, to Donna and back to Angie.

"Then I suggest you handle your doll before she makes me do something the both of you will regret." She growls, shooting daggers at Angie.

"Angie, why don't you and the girls run along and do something, it's been a while since you've all been together, yes?" Donna says and Alcina nods her head in agreement.

"But-" Daniela says.

"It's okay bug." Alcina says to Daniela. "Go with Angie and Bela and I'll come find you when we're finished."

Bela stands next to Daniela and they look at you for a moment. Bela sees the faraway look in your eyes and furrows her brows.

"What's wrong with her?"

"Besides the fact that she rolled down the stairs like a bowling ball?!" Angie screeches.

Alcina closes her eyes and tries to ground herself while her body tenses up again.

"I believe she's in shock." Donna says. "She's experienced a lot of trauma in a short period of time, it's going to take some time for her to mentally recover."

"Girls, go on, Donna and I have to take care of y/n." Alcina says.

Bela takes Daniela by the hand and the three of them walk out.

"Where the hell is Cass?!" They hear Angie say as the door closes.

Alcina releases a breath and relaxes a bit, placing a kiss on the top of your head. Donna removes her veil and tucks a few loose strands of hair behind her ears.

"Shall we begin?" Donna asks. Alcina nods her head. "Do you know what injuries she sustained?"

"She split the back of her head open," Alcina says, removing the gauze to see if the bleeding has stopped. When she see's that it didn't she puts the gauze back and continues to apply pressure. "I believe she broke or fractured her wrist, or her arm, or both. I'm not sure, I haven't had the chance to examine it yet. Various scrapes, cuts, bruising. The maid kicked her in the stomach after she went down the stairs so she may have broken or bruised ribs, possibly internal damage, I-I'm not really sure." Alcina's voice cracks and tears roll down her cheeks once more.

Donna places her hand on Alcina's shoulder and she looks at her sister with comforting eyes.

"She'll be okay." Donna says.

Alcina nods her head and wipes away her tears.

"Where should we start?"

"I would like to try and get her out of her dissociative state first if possible. I feel it would be cruel to begin taking care of her wounds and she comes out of it from the pain. Has she been like this since you brought her up here?"

"Yes, she came out of it for a moment, but only when I tried to move her after I realized she was bleeding from her head. I tried talking to her before I sat her up but she wouldn't come out of it. I was able to get through only after the pain brought her back. She was only out of this state long enough for me to adjust her and examine her head, she went back into it quickly."

Donna nods her head and rummages through her bag and pulls out a small jar. She walks over to you and Alcina and stands in front of your face.

"This should help get her out of it, when she comes back, I need you to grab her hand and gently squeeze it, every time you squeeze her hand, have her squeeze yours back."

Alcina nods and gently pries your good hand from the neckline of her dress. Once she's holding it, she nods to Donna who unscrews the cap and holds the jar a few inches away from your nose, slowly waving it back and fourth. Alcina gets a whiff of it and scrunches her nose and turns her head away.

As the memories replay over and over again in your head you feel trapped. You were aware that two more people entered the room at some point and then others left, but you have no idea who it was and truthfully, you didn't really care. Your body doesn't feel like its yours, it's like you're so deep in your mind the rest of your body doesn't exist. Just as you were finding comfort in this state, something floods your senses, a scent, a rather unpleasant one at that. It gets stronger and stronger and doesn't go away. Suddenly you feel like you're being pulled back into your body, into your consciousness, out of that space where you felt nothing. The scent is powerful, but you also pick up on a lighter, familiar scent, you recognize it as Alcina's perfume.

As more of your senses wake up you start to feel pain. At first it's only in a few places but the pain quickly spreads everywhere and you start to cry. Everything hurts, bad. The next thing you feel is a hand gently squeezing yours, muffled sounds come from above but you can't discern what they are. The strong, unpleasant scent persists as your senses awaken more.

Feeling something against your cheek, you start to realize that you're laying against Alcina. What you feel underneath you is her lap. Alcina has you sitting in her lap, resting against her chest. The thing wrapped around you, resting at the back of your head was her arm and her hand. A pain underneath her hand becomes more prevalent and more tears fall down your cheeks. You can still feel Alcina squeezing your hand as the voices become less muffled.

"That's it draga, it's okay, you're okay." The soft voice coos. That velvety voice can only come from one person. "Good job, I need you to squeeze my hand okay, can you do that?"

It takes a few moments for your brain to process what she's saying. She repeats herself a few times and you slowly start tightening your grip around her hand. She squeezes your hand back and you respond with another.

With each squeeze you receive and return you feel yourself coming back into reality more and more. Your vision clears up and you see a woman standing in front of you. The first thing you notice is how beautiful she is. As your eyes scan her face more, the second thing you notice is a large scar, or maybe a mass, over her eye. Her arm waves underneath you and you look down and see a small jar in her hand. Immediately you realize that the awful scent is coming from the jar and you close your eyes and scrunch your nose, pulling your face away from it.

Donna takes the jar away and screws the lid back on as Alcina continues to squeeze your hand.

"You're doing such a wonderful job my love." Alcina says softly and you look up at her. Her golden irises stare into yours for a moment as a beautiful smile graces her tear stained face. "Hello draga." She says and places a soft kiss on your forehead. She squeezes your hand once more and you don't return it. "No, no, keep squeezing my hand." She says and you continue to return each squeeze she gives you.

Each time you feel yourself slip back into the state you were in before you're brought back by a small squeeze from Alcina's hand. You feel yourself becoming more and more grounded with each passing moment.

"How are you feeling?" Alcina asks.

"Everything hurts." You say as more tears roll down your cheeks.

"I know love, I know." She says, kissing your head.

"Shall we begin?" Donna asks.

"Yes, we mustn't put it off any longer." Alcina says and looks back down at you. "We're going to start taking care of your wounds, okay draga? I know you're in a lot of pain, but we have to bandage you up, alright?"

"Okay."

"What hurts the most?"

"My wrist and my head, my stomach hurts pretty bad too. Honestly, everything hurts so bad." You say as more tears fall.

"I think she'll need stitches for her head wound and probably a cast for her arm." Alcina says.

"I don't have materials for a cast, but I can make a splint for her in the meantime." Donna replies.

As you look down at your arm you see how swollen it is, you can't move your wrist at all. There's no way you're going to be writing anything soon since you broke your dominant wrist.

"Oh shit." You say quietly. Alcina looks down at you with her brows furrowed. "I can't write." A panic starts to take over and you look up at Alcina. "Alcina, I- I can't write. The meeting next week, what am I going to do? What is she going to do to me if I-"

Alcina cuts you off wish a hush and holds you closely to her.

"It's okay, we'll figure something out, let me worry about that." She says, trying to calm you down.

Donna looks at Alcina with a confused look on her face and Alcina takes a deep breath and exhales.

"Mother Miranda requested she be at the meeting next week to 'take notes,' although I am inclined to believe she has other motives."

Donna's eyes go wide. "Oh."

"I completely forgot about- it all just happened and then this happened and-" Alcina shakes her head and looks down into your tear-filled eyes. "We will figure something out draga mea, I promise."

"She needs to be fully healed before the meeting." Donna says to herself as she rummages through her bag.

"The only way that would be possible if-"

"If we use this." Donna says, pulling out a green glass bottle.

"Donna, I- she's never been exposed to it, I don't know how she's going to react, I-"

"Will all due respect Alcina, if we don't try this, worse things will happen at the meeting next week. If Mother finds any reason-"

"I know." Alcina says.

"What is that?" You ask, looking between Donna and Alcina.

"It's a healing salve." Donna says.

"What's so special about it?"

"It contains the Mold." Donna says.

"It has mold in it?" You ask, confused.

"No, Mold, from the Megamycete?"

"The what?" You look up at Alcina, totally lost.

"Alcina, you never told her?"

"Told me what?" Panic starts to build in your chest, is there something happening you don't know about? What's going on?

Alcina senses your panic and rubs your back and places gentle kisses on your forehead.

"It's okay my love, calm down. I'll explain everything soon, I promise." You nod your head as your panic starts to settle. "No Donna, I haven't. Is it safe to use on her? As far as I know she's never been exposed to it before."

"Were you born and raised here in the village?" Donna asks you and you nod your head yes. "There's a good chance she was exposed to it without ever realizing it. Most people from the village are. Alcina, this is our only option."

"Okay."

"What is it?" You ask.

"I promise draga I will explain everything, but please let us help you first." You look up at Alcina with worry in your eyes. "Do you trust me?" She asks as she looks deep into your eyes.

Looking back into her eyes for a few moments, you take a small breath and quietly say "Yes."

The corner of her lip curls into a small smile and she softly kisses you on the lips.

Donna pours some of the salve onto fresh gauze and walks up to you.

"I will warn you, this is going to sting." You nod your head and press your forehead into Alcina's chest so Donna can place the gauze on your wound. "Hold still."

Alcina removes the bloodied gauze and gently holds onto the back of your neck with one hand while the other rests on your back, her thumb gently caressing you. Donna presses the gauze into the gash on your head. It stings at first but all of the sudden the back of your head feels like it's on fire. You do your best to hold still but the pain is so intense your body begins to tremble again as your cry into Alcina. She tightens her grip on you trying to hold you still but to also comfort you.

After a few agonizing seconds that felt like minutes, Donna pulls away and the pain subsides. She runs her fingers through your hair where the wound was and you feel no pain.

"Perfect." She says, pleased with herself before she throws the used gauze away.

Running your own fingers through the back of your head, you realize the wound is gone. Alcina sees the shock and confusion on your face and smiles.

"It's gone, the salve healed it." Alcina says.

"Instantly? Why didn't you use this when I had to get stitches!"

"Because I wasn't sure how your body would react to it, it was such a minor injury I didn't feel the need to risk your health any further."

"Can it heal my arm?"

"That I am unsure of since it's technically an internal injury, but we can try. Let me see." Donna says. You reach out your arm and she gently takes hold of it, her soft, warm fingers tracing and gently feeling the bones in your wrist and arm. "Your wrist is definitely broken and I think you fractured your arm but I can't be certain without an x-ray. I can try soaking the salve in bandages and wrapping it around your arm to see if it works."

"And if it doesn't?" You ask.

"You may need to ingest it. But lets try this first."

Donna pulls out a small bowl from her bag and pours some of the salve into it. She dunks a few bandages into the bowl and wrings them out. Once she's satisfied she brings the wraps over to you and wraps your arm from your hand up to your elbow. It's definitely more than necessary but she'd rather do too much than not enough.

Quickly you feel a softer burning sensation, it wasn't as intense as the head wound, but Donna suspects that its because the salve has to work through your skin and muscle to get into the bones. She applies the salve to a few other scrapes and cuts you have and has Alcina lay you down to examine your stomach.

Alcina slowly pulls your shirt up to just under your breasts. As your skin is revealed to her you see a myriad of emotions in her eyes. Shock, sadness, pain, guilt, and anger all flash across them as she reveals the bruises riddling your skin from the kick.

Gently pressing her fingers into you, Alcina feels around your ribs for any cracks and your abdomen for any signs of internal bleeding. Although she can't feel any breaks, more tears fall from you when she presses against a few spots on your ribs.

"They may be fractured or just badly bruised. Your stomach is a little inflamed but I'm not certain of what internal injuries you may or may not have."

"She should drink it Alcina, even just to err on the side of caution in case she does have internal damage. Plus, her wrist still isn't healed and it might speed up the process." Donna says.

As you look at the two of them while they talk, your gaze focuses on Alcina. The woman you love. The woman who just brutally murdered someone right in front of you. You've never seen someone die before, especially not like that. You've heard the stories, how she brutally murdered innocent people for fun. It's not that you didn't believe them, it's just that they were just hard to believe. Especially when the Alcina you've come to know and love is so gentle, so kind, so loving; you wonder how much of her you've really seen.

"Is that alright with you draga?" Alcina asks. She notices you lost in your thoughts and gently cups your face, bringing your gaze to hers. "Draga?" Alcina pulls you out of your spiral and you look up at her. "Is everything okay?" Nodding your head, you know she's not convinced but she sighs, letting it go for now and gently strokes your cheek. "Are you okay with drinking the salve?"

"I guess?"

Donna walks over with a new bottle and a garbage can while Alcina helps you sit up. It hurts like hell but after a minute you're sitting up against the headboard.

Donna hands you the bottle and keeps the trashcan close to you.

"Try and drink half of it if you can. It is going to taste awful, but you have to swallow it and do your best at keeping it down."

You look over at Alcina, who adjusted herself to sit next to you on the bed, and she gives you a comforting smile and nods her head. Her smile doesn't quite reach her eyes, you can see a little fear and worry in them.

Taking a deep breath, you bring the bottle to your lips and take a few large sips. Right before the liquid hits your tongue the smell fills your nostrils. Immediately your reaction is to pull it away because the smell is revolting but you fight the urge as you try and chug as much of it as you can. The second the salve hits your tongue you feel a burning sensation that follows the liquid down your throat and into your stomach. The taste is so awful you have to force yourself to keep drinking as tears run down your face. The salve sits heavily in your stomach and you feel your insides twist as your body tries to reject it. Pushing the bottle towards Donna, as soon as she grabs it you slap your hand over your mouth to try and stop yourself from vomiting.

Alcina is whispering praises as she rubs your back while your insides violently twist. The burning sensation feels like it's seeping out of your stomach and into every organ, every vein, every cell in your body until your entire body feels like its on fire. You tried your best to hold back your cries but as soon as you feel your ribs shifting and the bones in your wrist moving you scream, curing into fetal position on the bed.

The only other thing you could compare the feeling to would be when a fever breaks. But this sensation was a thousand times worse and filled with more pain that you've ever experienced. As the pain crescendos your stomach violently twists once more and you grab the trashcan from Donnas hand. Your body rejects everything that was in your stomach and you spill your guts into the garbage.

Once you're sure you're not going to vomit anymore you hand the garbage back to Donna and exhaustion floods your body. You practically collapse back into your spot as your body trembles from everything it just went through.

Alcina takes a handkerchief and gently wipes your mouth. Looking up into her eyes, all of the emotions you've felt over the last hour hit and you curl up into a ball and sob. Wrapping her arms around you, Alcina pulls you into her and holds you as tears of her own roll down her cheeks.

Watching you suffer was like torture to her. If she had to feel twice the pain you experienced just so you would have had none, she would have taken it in a heartbeat. She was so scared when she saw you laying at the bottom of the steps. For a moment terror filled her because she thought you were dead. Her heart had never sank so low so quickly in her life. She was relieved when she realized you were alive but then all she saw was red the second she laid eyes on Stefana. Truthfully when Alcina thought about killing her before this incident, she wasn't planning on making it quick. She had every intention of torturing her and letting her daughters do whatever they wanted to her until Alcina finally finished her off. But in that moment none of that mattered, she just needed that maid out of the way so she could get to you.

Alcina can feel your tiny body trembling underneath her as you cry. She carefully pulls you closer, afraid to hurt you more or again, and holds you.

"You're okay my love, you're safe now. You're safe." She whispers as she comforts you. "It's okay, it's okay. Close your eyes, you need to rest."

You try and close your eyes but the tears just keep falling. Alcina sits up in the bed and scoops you into her arms. She wipes the tears from your eyes and kisses you on the forehead while she gently rocks you. The sound of her heartbeat helps to calm you but its her voice when she starts softly singing that really soothed you. Slowly you started drifting off to sleep in Alcina's arms.

Alcina looked down at you as your eyelids fluttered closed, the tears stopped falling and she knew you were finally asleep when your breathing evened out. She sat there with you in her arms studying your face, she loved how peaceful you looked. That finally there wasn't a single thing in the world plaguing your brain. You were completely at peace. Never has she loved someone as much as she loves you in this moment.

Donna begins packing away her things and Alcina looks up at her. Donna meets her gaze and smiles at her sister. Her eyes flicker from you back up to Alcina and her smile deepens. Confident that you're in a deep sleep, Alcina get up and gently lays you on the bed and pulls the covers over you. She kisses your head and whispers "I love you, sweet dreams draga." before turning to face Donna.

"Lets speak elsewhere, she needs rest." Donna says softly.

"I will meet you downstairs."

Donna nods at Alcina and leaves the room with her bag in her hand. Alcina removes her blood-stained dress and throws on a simple black one. She looks you over once more before heading to the door and softly closing it behind her.

Downstairs Alcina meets Donna in one of the sitting rooms.

"I think we have to have a conversation my dear sister." Donna says quietly.

"I think we do too."

[katyaromanoffpetrova]

Thrown in the deep end

Katya doesn't set foot into a swimming pool anymore after some serious trama. Or does she?

• Natasha Romanoff x Fem!OC • Wordcount: 1k • Warnings: mentions of panic attacks, therapy and PTSD Masterlist

Starting a new series where I post all the small scenes I've written over the years that have never seen the light of day because they didn't fit into the story the way I wanted them to :) This one is for the anon who asked about Kat's fear of water.

2028

Natasha's heart stopped when she stepped onto the back terrace of their vacation home, the drinks in her hands nearly falling to the ground. White hot panic slashed through her body as she watched her wife slowly descend the steps into the swimming pool, more and more of her legs being swallowed by the water.

"Kat, what are you doing?!" She exclaimed in shock, fully ready to dive into the pool with her clothes on. Katya was terrified of large bodies of water. Anything that allowed her to fully emerge herself was a trigger for her PTSD. Even simply sitting on the edge with her legs in the water could sometimes be too much.

But she looked so calm now. Tense, sure, but determined in a way that was fragile. "I'm alright." Katya tried to smile encouragingly, but it was more of a grimace and her hands trembled visibly. She never stopped walking, though.

Natasha gaped at her, frozen in place, totally not alright. She wanted to yell at Katya to get out, to ask if she'd gone insane, but instead she held her breath, watching her every move. 

Katya stopped when the water was at her stomach, right below the edge of her bikini bottoms. She struggled to keep her composure, her chest rising and falling in breaths that came too fast, a glint of panic in her eyes. But she stayed where she was, letting the water lap at her skin like it was confused too. 

It was the furthest she'd been in ten years. 

"I have no words,'' Natasha managed to say. Her brain was in scrambles. So confused that it all just short circuited. Katya in a swimming pool just did not click. ''So many questions, though."

Katya slowly looked up at her, smiling carefully. "Come join me."

Quickly, Natasha put the drinks down and pulled her dress over her head. She saw that her wife was fighting not to let the panic take over, and she wanted to be close in case that happened. Those five seconds that it took to get to her could make a huge difference.

Extremely slowly, as to not break her focus or accidentally kick up too much water, Natasha joined Katya's side. The cool water was such a relief against her warm, burning skin, but she hardly felt it. All her attention was directed at Katya. She wasn't sure if she could touch her or if she should keep her distance, but Katya answered that question for her by leaping into her arms like she was a lifebuoy. 

This closely together, their fronts pressed together and Katya's arms tightly looped around her neck, Natasha could feel just how anxious Katya truly was. The muscles in her body were so wired and tense that they were rock hard, and her breaths were flat.

"I guess you've been keeping things from me," Natasha teased lightly, hoping that if she talked, it would help distract Katya from the situation a bit. Although she seemed to be doing fine so far.

Katya smiled, glancing down at the small necklace resting between Natasha's collarbones. "I haven't been on two therapy sessions a week for months."

Natasha had to contain her surprise. "Months?"

"Well, that's not entirely true," Katya backtracked. "I only see Eliza once a week, but I've been working with a trauma rehab specialist, Helen. She specializes in PTSD cases and works at this rehab center Eliza works with very closely. Helen's been helping me overcome my fear of water. Large bodies of water, specifically."

Natasha listened with her jaw figuratively on the floor. Her wife had been doing this all on her own without her knowledge. She should feel some sense of betrayal or hurt, but she felt only awe starting to bubble to the surface. "How?"

"Rehab is like a training center, so there's a pool. We go step by step, each week a bit further. Toes first, until where I'm at now." A pink tint rose on Katya's cheeks. "It's embarrassing at times, cause she's literally holding my hand."

A disbelieving chuckle escaped Natasha's lips before she could stop it. "Embarrassing or not, clearly it's working." She slowly shook her head, a smile growing on her face. "You scared the shit out of me, walking into the pool like that. A warning would have been nice."

Katya chuckled softly, happiness glistening in her eyes. "I wanted to surprise you. I did."

Again, Natasha shook her head. Her wife was such a fighter. She could have just accepted that this fear was a part of her, that she would never swim again, but instead Katya chose to look that fear dead in the eye and say, 'I've beaten stronger enemies than you'. 

"Honey, I'm so proud of you," she whispered, the emotions thick in her voice. If she allowed herself to think about this too hard, tears would well up in her eyes. "I can't imagine it's easy."

The shy redness in Katya's face grew darker. "I had so many panic attacks in the beginning," she admitted. "Now it's going quite well."

"That's why you were suddenly so tired when you came back from sessions," Natasha realized, things starting to fall into place. Panic attacks of any kind took such a toll on the body. And again, Katya endured all of it alone. "I wondered what was going on."

Guilt flashed across Katya's blue eyes. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I felt this was something I needed to do on my own."

"No need to apologize," Natasha brushed it off. She completely understood. If Katya had told her, then there would be some sort of outside pressure or expectations. "Honestly, I'm impressed at how well you managed to hide it."

A sly smile overtook Katya's features. "I didn't forget all my tricks." She pushed herself tighter against Natasha's front, and the redhead was just about to give in to the not-so-subtle signs, her gaze flickering down to Katya's lips, when a loud voice called out behind her.

"Mom?! You're in the pool! How are you in the pool?!" Maya stood in the exact same spot as Natasha had before, her eyes bulging out of her head.

Katya chuckled wholeheartedly. "A whole load of stubbornness." She glanced at Natasha, her face showing that this little experiment had taken its toll on her mentally. "I would like to get out now, though." 

Before she could blink, Natasha swept her off her feet, hoisting her up with a firm grip on the back of her thighs.

"Nat!"

[ofstoriesandstardust]

go gentle into that good night (j.h.s.)

a/n: as always, this is for my dearly beloved @cottagecori for letting me ramble and explain and talk through ever angsty idea i have ever had.

summary: The tale of two parties

second star to the right (and straight on 'til morning)

warnings: rumored cheating, existential crisis, miscommunication, angst, swearing, alcohol mentions

word count: 1.4k

You always forget how much cooler it is out here by the ocean. 

It’ll still be a few more months before anyone outside of seasoned surfers will brave the darkened water crashing onto the shore a ways out, but for now it’s calm and quiet as the cooler temperatures keep tourists away. 

It's something your friends have taken advantage of as you sit around the firepit, hot dogs roasting and music and laughter echoing all around you. The salt in the air is strong and you lean closer into Jake as a strong breeze runs through. 

The shiver that runs down your spine has nothing to do with the bite of the wind. 

They’re all talking about their next steps, what comes after graduation, and your stomach turns at the thought of confessing that you don’t actually know. 

The conversation you’d had with Pete earlier in the day while you’d waited for Bradley to dig through his parent’s garage for beach chairs plays on a loop, drowning out the words of your friends. 

“It’s okay not to know what you’re doing!” Pete says with a laugh. 

You worry at your bottom lip before sighing. “I just… everyone I know has these cool job offers or grad school acceptances they’re flaunting on social media, and I feel like I’m… falling behind.” You admit quietly. “Is this all I’m ever gonna be?” 

Pete’s face falls at that. “Listen to me. You are incredibly intelligent. You have a very bright future ahead of you, even if that might be hard to see that right now. There are so many people in your life who are supporting you and rooting for you. You’ll figure it out, even if it takes you a little bit longer than others.” Pete pauses. “What are Jake’s plans?” 

You shrug. “I think he’s expecting me to come with him wherever he goes.” 

Pete pulls a face, full of emotion you aren’t sure you understand. “What?” 

He hesitates. “It’s probably not my place, you both are my students-” 

“What?” You insist. 

“I just don’t want to see you confine your future for somebody else. I meant it when I said when you were one of the smartest students I have ever taught. You have the whole world at your feet. And I just… don’t want to watch you give that all up for somebody who might not be with you in five years time.” 

A call of your name startles you back into the present and you blink, realizing Bob is asking if you have any plans for after graduation. You groan, covering your face. “Please don’t ask me that.” 

Jake nudges you. “Don’t you want to go to grad school?” 

“Yes, but I also want to take some time off. I guess, I don’t know. Can we please stop asking me about this and talk about something else?”

Javy lets out a little chuckle. “Hey, worst comes to worst, you can always be a wag.” 

You blink. “A what?” 

“A wag! It’s like a slang term for wives and girlfriends of football players.” 

“So like... a trophy wife?” 

“Kind of-” 

“Machado, you say this like she’d want to be stuck with Seresin for that long.” 

Jake’s eyes narrow at Bradley. “Bradshaw-” 

“Okay, I’m tired of this, we’re moving on.” Natasha cuts the boy off with a roll of her eyes. “Who wants another drink?” 

Natasha begins to pass out more cans from the cooler as you tuck yourself further into Jake. Another shiver goes down your spine as you wrap your arms around you. 

“Are you cold?” Jake asks, leaning down to whisper in your ear. ���Do you want to go?” 

You shake your head. “No, I’ll be fine.” 

Jake nods, eyes searching yours before pulling his arm tighter around you as he rejoins the conversation. 

And I just… don’t want to watch you give that all up for somebody who might not be with you in five years time.

-

The knock at your door is quickly followed by a call from Jake. 

His beaming face in his contact photo appears as you hear him knock again. You answer the call with a click, smiling lazily as you turn down the volume of M*A*S*H* on your screen. 

“Hello?” 

“Let me in.” Jake’s words are almost a borderline whine. 

You hum, pretending to think about it. “I don’t know, I’m doing research.” 

He huffs. “You’re just watching M*A*S*H* again, aren’t you?”

“Hey, it’s relevant to my topic.” 

He huffs again. “Please.” 

You roll your eyes and hang up the call before slipping your blanket and laptop off of you and onto the couch. You pad over the front door of your apartment, pulling it open to see Jake. 

His smile blooms at the sight of you as he stumbles forward to give you a hug. You stumble a few feet back with all his weight pressed against you. “Jesus, you’re a clingy drunk.” You mutter, wrapping your arms around him as you try to find your balance. “You’re supposed to be at Bradley’s party.” 

With the conclusion of the baseball season (and his parents out of town), Bradley had thrown a party at his parents. You’d opted out of the evening to stay home and do homework, which had ultimately ended up with your scrolling through social media and doing very little work. 

Jake hums into your shoulder and you can feel the outline of his smile. “But I wanted to see my girl.” 

“You could’ve seen me tomorrow.” 

“Tomorrow me will be hungover.” 

“And drunk you thought it would be a good idea to come all the way over here?” 

“Of course I did. I love you.” 

The words Jake uses makes your breath catch in your throat. 

Not that he loves seeing you or that he loves spending time with you, but that he loves you. 

“Jake, I-” You swallow, unsure of what to say to him in response. 

You’re sure that your feelings for Jake had evolved to love, but you weren’t sure if he reciprocated them and certainly had not expected for him to say them first. 

And you certainly hadn’t expected it to be while he was drunk, whiskey scent strong on him. 

Jake, however, does not seem to sense the gravity of his words as he pushes himself off of you and wanders into your apartment. You shut the door behind him, still feeling a bit dumbfounded. 

“Hey, do you have any- Found it!” you follow him into your kitchen, where Jake is triumphantly holding a jar of Nutella. 

“Jake, you don’t even like Nutella.” The blond frowns at the jar, as if he’s trying to remember if that’s true. “Why don’t you just come sit on the couch with me?”

Jake abandons the jar without a second though, plopping himself down on the furniture. You let out a sigh, feeling all kinds of off-kilter before moving your laptop to the coffee table before slipping back underneath the blanket and holding it up for Jake. 

It takes some shifting and adjusting but he ultimately ends up sprawled out on your couch, head resting against your thigh. 

“This is a good episode.” He murmurs and you glance back up at the TV. After watching for a few minutes, you realize it’s the episode where Hawkeye and Trapper are replacing Henry’s desk. 

You let out a chuckle. “It is.” 

Jake hums against your skin. “I love you.” He whispers on a breath out, so quiet you’re sure you aren't meant to catch the words. 

It makes your heart stop again as you wonder if you’re meant to say them back. 

Not like this. Not when he won’t remember come tomorrow. 

-

The volume of the TV is soft, the laugh track quiet as Jake’s breathing slows. He’s fallen asleep against your thigh, you realize, as your fingers gently card through his hair. 

Your phone buzzes from underneath your leg and you’re careful to not disturb Jake as you adjust to pull it out. You smile softly as his features soften as you begin to scratch his scalp. 

That smile fades as you squint at the text preview on the screen in front of you. 

hey, i’m really sorry to be the one to tell you this but i think it’s better if i tell you before you hear about it from someone else

You frown, feeling your fingers slow in Jake’s hair as you quickly unlock the device, opening it to your text thread with Bradley. 

The bubble pops up a few times as the TV goes to commercial before you mute it entirely. 

When you look back at your phone, your stomach drops at what awaits you. 

there’s a rumor going around jake hooked up with another girl at the party tonight

and i think it might be true

i’m really sorry

[davenporttf]

Emascatine

Yo, what's up? My names Phil and I'm the quarterback for Boston College. Go Eagles! I love the sport and I'm stoked I get to play QB.

I gotta be honest with you though, I've been having a slump lately out on the field. I haven't been at the top of my game. I've been working out every day but no matter how much training I put in, I'm getting sacked left and right.

I stopped by a local vitamin shop to switch up my preworkout. I don't think this whey stuff is really giving me the boost I need, ya know? The guy at the shop seemed like he was into me. I caught him multiple times checking me out as I was walking up and down the aisles. Not that I care really, a compliment is a compliment but dude could be less obvious about it. He eventually took a break from creepin to ask me what I was looking for in particular.

I explained how I wanted to switch up my preworkout, and he said he had just the thing. It was this black generic bottle with the brand name "Hit Fit." The slogan underneath it said "It'll hit you the first time guaranteed!" I didn't recognize the brand so I looked at the active ingredient, Emascatine. I've never heard of it either but the guy at the shop said it was a new type of drug only sold through his shop.

I was weary of trying the brand but the prospect of fast results was exactly what I needed right now. I caved and decided if I didn't see any results, I'd return it later.

I stopped home and whipped up the preworkout shake and threw it in my bag along with the bottle in case one of the teammates needed some. I made it to the locker room just in time, and setup in front my locker. I took out my preworkout and took my first sip. It tasted like fruit loops which was a nice changeup from my last powder that tasted like crap. I took more sips and really liked the taste so I started to down it.

"So tasty!" my voice cracked as I said it. "You good Phil?" asked my teammate, Drew.

"I'm good, sweetie!" The words just left my mouth without a thought. My voice had raised several octaves and my face was as red as ever realizing what I said. Drew looked at me in amusement. "haha okay, babe" thinking it was a joke.

I refocus on getting dressed, and pulled on my compression pants over my jock. My skin felt so sensitive in the moment. The tightness of the pants felt so good on my legs. I rubbed my legs up and down feeling the spandex material stretch. I was getting aroused by watching my quads flex in them. My eyes were closed sitting on the bench while I rubbed my inner thighs. An inaudible moan came from my mouth as I felt my dick hardened.

What was happening to me?! I look over the Hit Fit bottle and notice a tiny disclaimer at the bottom. "Emascatine may cause side effects of heightened sensitivity, mood changes, sexual stimulation, and emasculation."

I snapped out of it long enough to feel my ass stretch the tights even further. My center of gravity shifted as my ass grew into a firm bubble butt. I tried to walk around but felt an itch coming from deep inside my ass. I braced myself with hands on the wall squirming to hopefully scratch the itch. I don't know why it felt so right in the moment but I started to shake my ass faster and faster side to side as if it were on display for my teammates.

Drew had taken notice, yelling over "Yo, Phil. What has gotten into you?!" They watched as I continued moving my ass in their direction. My teammates' demeanor changed the longer they watched. I could see their faces going from confusion to slight interest to lustful. My ass was hypnotizing and they could have stood there all day staring into it's fluid motion.

I loved the look on their faces and called over to them "Hey boysss! You like what you see?"

Drew smiled, "Damn, Phil. Why don't you come over here and we can do some team bonding?"

I thought he'd never ask. I let them line up as I got in position.

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

Epilogue:

Coach says I need to take a step back from QB. Something about my performance not being up to snuff. I've been told I'd make a better water boy. I've really enjoyed it so far. I keep my boys hydrated as they take turns slamming my P-spot. Team morale has never been higher.

[sweetfictionalworld]

Hi there, love your writings and especially the smut - they're so descriptive and hot!!!😏😏😁😁 Wonder if you could write Quaritch with kinks about rope, wooden paddle and belt. I don't have a plot in mind, you're free to explore all you want 🙄🙄🙄🙄 I'd understand if you don't want to write it since these elements can be triggering to some people. Anyhow, love your work!!!

Oh my gosh, thank you so much! 🤗 Hehe, don't worry. These are my favorite elements and those who find it triggering shouldn't read it. I'll hope you enjoy it and I hope you don't mind I wrote this with human Quaritch 🙈

PUNISHMENT - Human!Miles Quaritch x Female Reader

Warnings: Nsfw, Smut, BDSM elements, Use of belt, Bondage, Spanking (just imaging those muscles flexing when he's gripping that paddle 🥵), Oral Sex, Unprotected Sex, Rough Sex.

"What was the one thing I ordered you not to do?" Miles asked sternly while binding your naked body with ropes.

"To not walk away from the group, Sir," you replied in a low whisper as you looked up at his stern face.

"Exactly. And what did you do?" He wasn't showing any emotions as he secured you in the frog tie position with your wrists and thighs bound together and your arms bound behind your back. He placed you on your back, leaving you immobile with your ass high up in the air and your pussy open on display for him. He looked up at your face, waiting for an answer.

You gulped. "I walked away from the group, Sir."

"And what happened?"

"A Thanator attacked me."

"That's right. You're lucky I was close by so I could kill it before you got hurt. Just see what one of them did to me. You're not a soldier, y/n. You're a scientist. And you need me to take care of you, to keep you safe," Miles spoke softly but firmly as he took his belt off and looped it around your neck.

"Yes, Sir," you replied and licked your lips as you looked up at him with big, lust-filled eyes. His intense, blue eyes held your gaze as he fastened the belt tightly around your throat.

"Then, you understand that I have to punish you for disobeying me."

"Yes, Sir," you said, biting your bottom lip as a wave of arousal flooded your pussy when Miles picked out the wooden paddle amongst his equipment.

"You will get ten swats, and I want you to count them all."

"Yes, Sir," you said anew and yelped when the first sting hit your bare ass without warning. Fuck, he was really angry with you.

"O-One," you mewled out and gasped when Miles grabbed the end of the belt and yanked it to the side, tightening the choke hold on your throat. Miles raised his massive, muscular arm and placed another mind-blowing spank on your ass.

"T-Two!" you cried out, feeling your skin already getting sore and red from the impact of the paddle. Miles' face revealed nothing as he continued spanking you, each swat jerking your body and sending a jolt of arousal through your core. Tears started prickling in your eyes, but you held them back. You wanted to make him proud, show him how strong you could be. You kept looking up into his eyes, your teeth sinking into your trembling lips as you whimpered out each number.

Miles watched aroused as each swat of the paddle created a new pattern of pretty redness on your skin while listening to the sound of your sweet voice counting each spank. His cock twitched with each cracking sound of the paddle hitting your skin. He looked up at your face and, saw the tears swimming in your eyes, saw how much you struggled to hold them back. But he also knew you didn't only feel the pain. He knew exactly what this did to your body, the mix of pain and arousal flooding your flesh each time the paddle hit your skin.

As you counted the last swat, you exhaled a breathy gasp of relief while your chest was heaving with exhaustion.

"You did so good, baby girl. So good," Miles praised while gently caressing your sore skin, smirking when he saw your pussy clenching in response. "Well, well... look at your pretty pussy lips, all puffy and greedy for my attention."

Without warning, Miles bent down and flicked his tongue across your slit. You gasped in pleasant surprise, moaned when Miles started working his jaw at a feral pace, growling like an animal as he lapped up your sweet juices with his eager tongue. He plunged it inside you, thrusting it in and out of your wet hole at a rapid pace. His tongue moved up to flick your clit, and that was it. Hips jerking and pussy clenching, you came with a guttural moan in your throat.

Miles had never tasted anything as deliciously sweet as you. He wanted more and more, couldn't get enough of your arousal flooding his mouth when your climax swept through your body. He licked and sucked your pussy lips into his mouth, growled when you responded so lovely to his touch, drenching his mouth and face with your sticky juices. His dick was painfully hard, and he reached down, shuddering as he zipped down his pants and wrapped his hand around his throbbing member.

Fuck…

He wanted to be inside you so badly, feel your warm essence coat his cock. Miles licked you through another one of your orgasms, lapping softly until your body relaxed and your chest heaved heavily with exhaustion.

"Fuck, y/n...you drive me crazy, you know that?" Miles grunted and crawled on top of you. He grabbed your thighs and slammed inside you in one hard thrust.

"Fuck!" both of you moaned in unison as Miles' cock filled you up and hit the deepest parts of your core. Eyes widening, you stared up at him as he stretched out your inner walls. Fuck, you would never get used to how big he was.

"Damn, you feel so good, sweetheart," Miles mumbled and started thrusting, clenching his teeth when your wet pussy tightened around him. "So fucking tight and wet."

"Oh, Miles…," you hummed in a breathy exhale. "You feel so good inside me, Sir."

Miles looked down at you through half-lidded eyes, loved the cute, little mewls he was coaxing from your parted lips as he fucked you hard and deep. Miles straightened his body, grabbed the end of the belt around your neck, and pulled on it as he started pounding into you hard and fast.

Pulses of pleasure shot through your core each time he pulled on the belt around your throat. Your mind went blank, your head swimming in a cloud of pleasure as you looked up at the Colonel fucking you. The image of him saving you earlier flashed before you. The look he had in his eyes told you everything you needed to know. He had looked angry, but most of all, he had looked scared.

Your body rocked in pace with his thrusts, his cock pumping in and out of you, building up a tightening knot of pleasure in your lower belly.

"I’m gonna…I’m coming!" you moaned just as pleasure erupted, and your pussy clenched around Miles' cock.

"Fuck!" Miles growled, his cock twitching as your pussy clamped down on him. With a final thrust, his body jerked, and he swelled deep inside you, emptying his cum inside your fluttering core.

Miles pulled out of you, his chest heaving rapidly as he untied you from the ropes and belt, and cradled you across his lap.

"Are you alright?" Miles asked, kissing your forehead.

"Mmhmm," you smiled softly and sighed with content as you nuzzled into his hard chest, feeling safe, loved, and protected as he embraced you with his strong arms.

[hopefulromances]

Long Time Coming I Chapter Ten I Here We Go Again

Summary: Being hired as the first female assistant coach in the league was a challenge of it itself. Being a football protigy and University Football Legend was easy enough. Coaching Jamie Tartt was a challenge all on its own.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warning: None?? That I can think of?

A/N: Enjoy

Prologue One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine

Have you ever smelt miles and miles of poop surrounding you? I hadn’t either until Ted’s big plan to get the guys spirits up. But now that smell was stuck in my nose. Even if it was just poopeh.

I stood on the pitch, one foot on the ball. It was the beginning of a new season. A new start. Which I was thankful for. The past few months since the end of the last season, and the excitement of the promotion, had been an emotional whirlwind and I was excited to finally have something to focus on. AFC Richmond had a chip on its shoulder the size of a boulder going into the season and all eyes were on us. Unfortunately, most of the odds were stacked against you even Paddington Bear had the odds against you.

But things were different this time around. Richmond was stronger, more put together than ever. This team was on the brink of being the greatest, all they needed was the right push. What that push was going to be, I couldn’t say.

I took a step back and punted the ball down the field watching it as it fell, down, down before bouncing once then into the goal.

By the time I made it back into the building, the halls were bustling with life. Various greyhounds coming into the locker room, various staff walking in and out of rooms, all the signs of an active football club. I made my way up to Rebecca’s office to meet Keely. Since she was becoming a big CEO and all, she wouldn’t be at the club as much.

She left Rebecca’s office with Ted and Higgins following closely behind.

            “(Y/N) (L/N)!” Ted greeted. “What are you doing here?”

            “She’s here to see me, of course!” Keely told him, coming over to loop her arm with mine.

Ted put his hand over his heart in feigned offense. “And here I was thinking she was here for me.”

            “Sorry, Ted,” I said, leaning against Keely. “I’ll be sure to set up our morning chat later.”

As Keely and I headed down the stairs, we chatted about the off season and Keely’s exciting new job. We reached the bottom of the stairs where we were met by Isaac leaving the locker room. He asked her for a shoe deal. Not a brand deal. Just shoes. I glanced over and saw Jamie walking down the hallway with Bumbercatch and Colin. We made eye contact for a moment before I tore my eyes away from him to look over at Colin.

            “Hey, Colin.” I approached him instead. “How’s it going?”

            “Hey, (Y/N).” He smiled at me. “Bumber and me were just talking about going to see some music this weekend, do you want to come?”

I glanced over at Jamie again who was now talking to Keely. “Oh, I wish. I actually have plans.”

            “Oh, too bad. But next time year?”

            “Definitely!”

Finally, Keely and I were done dealing with the hordes of footballers and we could finally chat. That was until Roy approached us. I knew enough about their situation to back off for a moment, give them a second to chat. I felt Jamie’s eyes burning a hole in the back of my head, but I refused to look. I couldn’t look. I didn’t trust myself to look. So, I just waited, staring at literally nothing.

Finally, Keely was done and walking down the hallway. I rushed after her, not acknowledging the boys behind me.

            “Keely! Wait!” I called rushing after her. “What was that? With Roy?”

            “Oh, that? We… we uh… broke up!” She said it like it was nothing. Like she hadn’t just dropped the biggest bombshell of my life.

I grabbed her arm and pulled her towards me. “What?”

            “We haven’t really told people, but yeah…” She shrugged then looked at her watch. “Look at that! I have to go.”

            “Keely! You can’t just-“

            “Gotta go, Barb’s waiting for me.”

            “Keely we’re gonna talk about this!”

            “Later!”

And she was off, leaving the club. I shook my head in disbelief. I turned around just intime to see Jamie leaving the boot room with Roy. We made eye contact. I started backing away slowly, and Jamie started walking towards me. Step by step I backed up until I hit a wall and Jamie was standing right in front of me.

            “(Y/N).”

            “Jamie.”

Then he was kissing me. I gasped in surprise but kissed him back for a moment before pushing him off of me.

            “Jamie, not here.”

He pouted at me as I pushed past him. “No one’s around, I checked.”

            “You did not check, you said my name then you were kissing me,” I pointed out peaking around the corner before turning back to face him.

            “I know, I know, just…” He leaned against the wall next to me. “How long do we have to keep it a secret?”

Deciding to stay private for a while was my idea. If it were up to him, he’d be on me all hours of the day and while that idea sounded really nice, I needed time to have him to myself. Just us.

            “Just until… the season gets started,” I decided on saying. “People aren’t nice to me in the press and I don’t want to give them another reason to hate me.” Jamie pouted, grumbling something about not caring what people say. I turned to face him, bringing my hands up to rub up over his shoulders. “Look, for now we’re theirs but when we get home, we’re ours. It’s better this way.”

Though I didn’t sound too convinced myself. It broke my heart to keep Jamie a secret, and I know it was hurting him as well. But my worst fear was going public and hearing all the reasons we shouldn’t be together. He deserved better than me, or I was the reasons we weren’t playing well. Whatever they could find to tear us apart.

            “Ours, I like the sound of that, love,” He crooned, smirking at me.

            “Yeah… ours,” I echoed him, matching his smile. I saw him start to lean down to kiss me but panic shot through me so instead, I stepped back and started down the hallway to the locker room. I heard him stumble behind me and let out a curse, but I continued forward.

The locker room was a mess. The boys were up in arms about the Roy and Keely break up, something to do with signing Zava, and Trent Crimm for some reason? Jamie wasn’t far behind me but I tried not to notice him as he came in and stood to the side.

            “Why would Zava write a book about Trent Crimm?” Zoreaux shouted in confusion. I walked into the room looking around at the chaos.

            “Hold on a second!” Ted silenced the room. “If y’all didn’t know about Zava, which may or may not happen…”

            “We’re getting Zava?” I muttered to Beard.

            “Possibly,” He replied.

            “And y’all didn’t know about Trent Crimm, which is happening…” Ted continued.

            “Trent Crimm is writing a book about us?” I asked again.

            “Definitely,” Beard confirmed.

            “Then what were you so worked up about?” Ted finally finished.

The boys looked at each other, none of them wanting to admit what the issue was. Finally, Sam stepped up.

            “Roy and Keely broke up.”

Beard yelped, making me jump. Then Ted fainted.

It seemed the whole league was up in arms trying to get Zava to join them. It was all the boys could talk about as well. Especially Dani. Dani had a weird thing going to be honest. Zava certainly was an amazing player. I’d seen him on the field. He reminded me of Jamie a few years ago. Except he was about 10 years older with a wife and children.

The other weird thing was Roy’s vendetta against Trent Crimm. He’d outright banned all the lads from talking to him about anything. It was weird and personal in a way I’d never seen Roy act before.

            “(Y/N) (L/N), first female coach in the league…” Trent started, coming up to me.

            “Nope.” I shut him down. Even if I wanted to talk to him, starting the conversation about my place as a woman in a male dominated field was not going to be the way to do it. I walked straight past him into the coaches office.

Roy was smiling at me as I did. “Nicely done, (L/N).”

            “I didn’t do it for you, dickhead,” I grumbled, though I was smiling while I said it. I was smiling more than I used to now. Things were going well! The club was promoted, I was with Jamie, and things were finally looking up. So, why on earth did I feel off.

            “Jamie! I’m home!” I called into the house as I walked in, juggling a bag of groceries on my hip.  There was silence in the house, though. Maybe, he wasn’t here. We hadn’t officially moved in yet, so it wasn’t like we were always together. But usually, after a long day of pretending we weren’t together, he liked to be with me. Then I heard the sound of the TV on. “Jamie?”

I walked into the house and placed my bag of groceries down on the counter. From the kitchen I could see into the living room where Jamie was watching a football game. He was leaning forward, completely engrossed in the events of the game. It was cute to watch him to enamored with the game he loved so much. I came around the back of the couch and placed my hands on Jamie’s shoulders, prompting him to lean back.

            “Hey, babe,” I greeted, kissing the top of his head. He hummed in response, his eyes still not leaving the screen.  “What game are you watching?” It took me a second to realize he was watching me. That it was my kit on the screen. An old imperial game where I was commanding the field. I stood back, letting my hands fall to my sides. “Jamie… what is this?’”

            “It’s you, ain’t it?” He pointed at the screen. “I love this part, watch” I watched as I did a backwards kick to a teammate, sending the ball back to the middle of the field before it was sent back to me on the outside. From there I sent the back flying in a beautiful arch into the goal. “Fuckin’ brilliant it is.”

I watched myself celebrate on the screen, my teammates swarming me and cheering my name. It made my smile remembering those times. But I tore myself away from it before I could get too sucked into the nostalgia of actually playing football.

            “I’m gonna make dinner,” I said, turning back into the kitchen.

Jamie hopped up off the couch and followed me. “Why’d you stop?”

            “Hm?”

            “Why’d you stop playing football?”

I started to unpack the groceries I got thinking on the question. Why had I stopped? I stopped because the second I was out of uni, no one cared about me anymore. I stopped because my mum told me that it was time to get serious, that football wasn’t a career for women. I stopped because everything in the world was against me when I graduated.

            “Uh, it just didn’t work out for me, I guess,” I replied, absentmindedly.

            “I find that hard to believe,” Jamie returned, coming over to help me put stuff into the refrigerator. “You were top of the league when you graduated. Surely you had offers.”

            “It just didn’t work out, alright, Jamie?” I said, shortly, ending the conversation. “Now can you grab me the butter out of the fridge.” Jamie pursed his lips at me, clearly knowing there was more to the story than what I was letting on. But he grabbed a stick of butter and tossed it over to me. “Besides, I like coaching now. I’m good at it.”

That made Jamie smile. “Right on that one, babe.”

I sighed, happy that I was able to get Jamie off the subject of my departure from the game. Of course, I wanted to play football when I got out of college. But there were some words that cut too deep to ignore.

Luckily, we had the upcoming Chelsea game to discuss. Richmond was the talk of the town. Well, right next to Zava, we were. Everyone was watching as we either sunk or swam in the Premiere league on our first attempt back.

The stadium was buzzing as Roy, and I entered the field. At first, the buzzing was geared towards Roy. The chant of ‘he’s here, he’s there, he’s every-fucking-where, Roy Kent” filled the air. I could tell he was trying not to let it get to him, but he was touched for sure. But that chant was soon overtaken with cants of ‘Zava’! I turned and saw the prick in the stands. It made sense, Zava was all but signed to Chelsea according to Higgins’s various rumors.

But then the game was off. I watched as the boys tried to get something going but after several failed attempts, including one off Dani’s face, we ended the first half 1-nil with Chelsea on the board. Chelsea was playing offensively. Waiting for our guys to pass so they could intercept and take back possession. All they needed to do was hold onto the ball as long as possible.

            “Hey, fellas. Listen up,” Ted began, starting our half time meeting. “We get one goal we’re right back in this thing, yeah? But right now, we are being so unoffensive, we might as well be a Hallmark Christmas movie, you know what I’m saying.”

No, no we did not. But he continued nonetheless.

            “I mean, Coach, how many shots on goal we have that half?”

            “Just one,” I answered.

            “And that one was pretty much a mistake. Am I correct, Dani?”

            “Yes, it bounced off my face. But my face almost scored!” He returned enthusiastically.

The boys chattered amongst themselves, trying to figure out exactly what they were doing wrong. I dared a glance over at Jamie. We’d mastered the art of eye conversations. We usually were able to communicate our thoughts without saying anything. Sneaking around will do that for you. He had a thought, I could tell. If he was on the same page as me, I wanted him to share. He nodded at me.

            “Just an idea,” Jamie offered starting to stand.

            “What you got?” Ted called on him.

            “Right, so every time they’re going past the halfway line, they’re just...”

Then Trent entered the room, and everyone fell silent. I wanted to rip my hair out of my skull. They were giving up valuable strategy time all because of some stupid grudge Roy had on Trent. I looked at Ted, begging him to do something. Luckily, he seemed to understand my plea.

First Ted went with Roy just a few feet away into the showers. Then Ted emerged and Roy barked for Trent. Whatever happened in that room I don’t want to know but when they came out again, Roy allowed us to discuss around Trent. Unfortunately, we didn’t have much time, so I urged Jamie to finish his thought.

            “Listen!” Jamie shouted out over the noise. “What I’m saying is, every time we go past halfway, they’re just blocking up the passing lanes, you get that? So just kept dribbling until they stop you.”

That’s my boy. He saw exactly what I had seen. The boys seemed to have more energy going into the second half and it showed when Sam scored a goal off Dani’s face. And that was it, we finished the game in a tie against Chelsea.

As unorthodox as it was, I was excited. Excited because I could feel the electricity of things working on the field. Of the boys understanding each other and communicating. This was the game I loved. For a moment, just a single moment, I wished it was me on the field.

As we exited the field, I caught Trent standing to the side as we filed into the locker room.

            “Trent,” I called over, to him.

            “Coach (L/N),” He noted, standing up straight as I walked over to him. “To what do I owe the honor.”

I snorted, shaking my head. “Look, if there’s one thing, I want you to understand about me is that I am not some female superstar here to save my gender in the league.” He cocked his head at me, removing his glasses to better look at me. “I’m here because I love football. Just like everyone else on this team.”

He nodded at me, understanding. “I hear you. I understand you were quite the player in university. What made you stop playing.”

Oh, so now everyone was wondering about my past huh. Well, this wasn’t about to become some melodrama about why I didn’t play football anymore. I was here to do one thing and one thing only, coach football.

            “Nope!” I popped the ‘p’ at the end and sent him a wink. And with that I turned around and headed back into the locker room.

            “Goodnight, Coach (L/N)!” I heard Trent countered as I walked away. This season was certainly turning out to be an interesting one. But then again, when wasn’t it always.

I was looking forward to the celebration that was in store in the locker room but what I was met with was the awe shocked group watching a video on their phones. A video of Zava deciding to come to Richmond.

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[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Silence

Summary: Javier is back home in Texas after Colombia and just needs a way to silence the thoughts in his brain. And what better way than to visit a shady bar with a glory hole....

Pairing: Javier Peña x fem. reader

Wordcount: 1.4k

Rating: E

Warnings: Glory holes, Smut (Oral; M receiving), anonymous sex, flirting, Javi thinking about Colombia

A/N: literally wrote this in like an hour after having the idea. This might suck (ha! Pun intended)

if you want to get notified for new fic updated follow me @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics

Being back home was harder for Javier than he thought. 

His body may be in Texas, but his mind was still back in Colombia. Fighting the war against drugs. Escobar might be dead, but his legacy still lived. 

He stared at the package of cigarettes he had bought, his car still in the parking lot of the store. It had been a hot day, the sun finally disappearing, the sky darkening, the temperature sinking.

He hadn’t smoked in almost twelve weeks. 

He was… doing good. Or so he thought. 

He just needed a moment of quiet. For the thoughts in his brain to be silent and not remind him how much of a failure he was. 

Back in Colombia he’d go to the brothel for that. Fuck he couldn’t even remember the last time something else than his own hand had made him cum. 

Sure, he could fuck around in Laredo, but it was a small town. Part of the people still hated him for what he did to Lorraine what felt like a lifetime ago, the other part of the people calling him a hero because he brought down Escobar. 

But he didn’t. 

He wasn’t even there. He might have helped, but in the end and when it mattered he was already on his way back to Texas. 

He rubbed his fingers over his temple, his head leaning back against his seat as he took a deep breath. 

He was pushing forty and had no idea what to do with the rest of his life. 

Javier let his eyes wander through the dimly lit neighborhood, his eyes finding the red neon sign of a bar, whose name seemed familiar. 

He searched his brain until he remembered where he knew it from. 

Prostitution might be illegal, but there still were some loopholes. Like bathrooms with holes in the wall. 

He sighed, his cock twitching at the thought. 

Before he could question his intention he had left his truck and walked towards the bar. 

The package of cigarettes unopened on the passenger's seat. 

He nursed his glass of whiskey at the bar counter, watching the dimly lit room and the crowd of people. Some might call it shady, but Javier felt just like he belonged here. People came here to disappear and forget, and that was just what he wanted right now.

Rubbing his fingers over his mustache he eyed the door that led to the restrooms. 

There was another door next to it, a woman sitting in front of it. 

He emptied his glass before he got up and slowly walked over. 

The woman looked up, raising her left eyebrow as she let her eyes wander from head to toe, a smirk playing in the corner of her lips. 

Javier felt a wave of confidence at her checking him out. She was pretty too. Bright eyes and deep red lipstick covering her full lips. Younger than he expected, not that he did know what to expect. 

Honestly, he didn’t know how exactly this worked, so he was just winging it.

He stopped in front of her, sucking his bottom lip in. 

“What can I do for you, Cowboy?” she asked and he chuckled. Hooking his thumb through one of his belt loops he tilted his head. He saw her gaze linger on his crotch, before she looked up again. 

He just nodded towards the door and her eyes lit up in understanding.

“Booth three, left door,” she only said, before opening the door for him. 

He stopped halfway through the door, turning his head over his shoulder, a question lingering on his mind.

“Is there a woman or man in booth three?” he asked and her lips twitched into a smirk. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she winked with an amused smile and he chuckled, shaking his head to himself before he walked in. 

There were six doors. Three Booths. 

He could hear faint moaning as he made his way to door three which was at the back of the small hallway. Left door she had said. Feeling his cock harden he turned the doorknob, walking inside the small room. There was a chair in the left corner, and a box of tissues on the floor. It was a little filthy, but what did he expect?

In the middle of the wall to his right were three holes. One obvious hole in the height of his crotch, the other two holes higher and bigger. 

For his hands probably. 

His fingers twitched. 

He heard a door open and only now did he realize that he was stalling. There was only one reason why he was here. Taking a deep breath he unbuckled his belt, opening the single button, rolling down the zipper of his jeans. 

With a low groan he took hold of his cock, pulling it out. It was already half hard. 

The idea of cumming in someone's mouth making him twitch in anticipation. 

As awkward as this situation was, it also felt right as he took a step towards the hole in the wall, sucking his bottom lip in as he slipped his by now almost fully hard cock through the hole in the wall. 

Nothing happened for a long moment until he felt a featherlight touch. He thought it were fingers first but the next moment something wet and warm enveloped the tip of his cock and he released a long satisfied groan. 

His hands came to rest flat on the wall as he tried to get closer to the mouth the tip of his cock was currently in when the person on the other side of the wall slowly began to take him deeper inside. 

“Fuck,” he grunted, letting his forehead rest against the wall. Sweat was already starting to run down his neck as his cock was sucked. Unintentionally he started to thrust, moaning when he felt his tip hit the back of their throat while they moaned around him. 

It seemed like they liked at and he imagined being able to really fuck their face. Making them gag on his cock while tears sprung into their eyes. 

He’d be cuming in seconds at this point. 

“Shit…” he moaned, his hand bumping against the wall as he felt his balls tighten. 

“Fuck I’m gonna… Fuck I’m gonna cum,” he said, hopefully loud enough for the person on the other side to hear before his cock twitched and the first rope of cum shot into their mouth. Javier heard a long moan, he wasn’t sure if it was him or the person on the other side, a hand wrapping around his cock, jerking him off while his tip remained in their warm mouth, filling it with his spend until he released a long groan as he finished. 

Part of him wanted to know if the person on the other side would swallow it all down. 

And for one blissful moment there was only silence in his head. 

The lips disappeared and he lingered a moment, before he took a hesitant step back, his cock leaving the hole. 

Was he supposed to… thank the person? Was there some kind of protocol?

Before he could think more about it he heard footsteps on the other side and a door opening and falling close again. 

Narrowing his eyes he risked a glance through one of the holes into the other room, finding it empty. 

He huffed to himself, so much for that. 

Taking a deep breath through his nose, he tucked his cock inside his jeans and made sure he was fully dressed before he opened the door and stepped out. 

When he opened the door to get back into the bar, the woman from before was leaning at the wall next to the door. 

He lipstick was smudged and she gave him a teasing smile, before her thumb brushed over the corner of her mouth, brushing away something that looked like… oh

“Did you enjoy booth three?” she asked, bringing her thumb between her lips, licking it clean. 

He felt a rush he hadn’t felt in a while, as his lips twitched into a smirk, his head nodding. 

“Very much so,” he said, stepping closer towards her. 

“I’d like to…. give my proper thanks and return the favor,” he said and she grinned slowly. 

“That would be very much appreciated,” she said. 

They were standing so close now, that her breasts brushed against his chest. 

“Your place or mine?” he asked, his voice quiet. 

“Mine,” she said softly.