#maybe he was able to get out of his cell or maybe he escaped?? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dandylovesturtles · 7 months ago

Note

Using a random number generator for the angst prompts: 20 Starved + 30 Dangerous Temperatures

... and Leo, of course.

OH GOD OK

uh so. I had an idea. and I decided to write it for this ask I got forever ago. And then, uh.

it really

really got out of hand.

This is a pretty dark fic (even for me) and at the current moment in time it is hurt/no comfort. I do intend to write a part 2, probably tomorrow, but as of the time I'm typing this author's note I've been writing for around 5+ hours straight and I need to take a break! So please, if you don't want to read all this without the comfort included, feel free to wait for the next part before reading! I'll link it and the end once it's posted.

Content warnings: Kidnapping, confinement, psychological torture, nonconsensual voyeurism (I guess this is the best way to put this; Leo isn't doing anything sexual but it's still violating), mild violence, HEAVY ANGST, Leo just having the shittiest time possible.

I HOPE?? YOU ENJOY??? hahahaha....

btw this is set between S2 and the movie (though tbh its canon compliance is... /waves hand)

-----

When Leo imagined himself getting captured by some kind of shady, quasi-governmental agency intent on imprisoning mutants, it was never anything like this.

When he let his mind go there, he always pictured that he would be strapped to a table. Maybe muzzled. That scientists would stand over him, scalpels and drills in hand, and start to take him apart. That they'd examine him piece by piece, and wouldn't give him any anesthesia while they did it.

But there is no table, no muzzle, no restraints at all. He's just in a room.

Well, a cell, technically - the steel door is locked, and there are no windows, no furniture but a bare cot in one corner and a lone toilet in another. But it doesn't really look like a cell. It looks like a room.

A very, very white room. White walls. White ceiling. White tiles (with white grout, even). The toilet is white, a roll of white toilet paper on the floor next to it. The only things that aren't white are the cot and the door and Leo himself.

They took his gear and his weapons, because of course they did. Since the door is steel, he already knows he's not breaking it down; he gives it a half-hearted slam anyway, just to say he tried. He should be able to just portal out, except he hasn't learned how to use his portals without his swords to channel his ninpo through, and there's nothing in here with him that he can use to make new ones.

So he's stuck. He's going to have to wait until someone opens that door for some reason. Or, of course, until his family swings by to pick him up. Though, if possible, he'd like to escape before that happens. The image in his mind, of sitting outside his cell and grinning at them as they arrive to rescue him, is too cool to pass up.

He's not sure how long it's been already. He knows that they knocked him out after ambushing him, and he doesn't know how long he was unconscious. The heavy molasses feel of his head and arms when he woke up suggests that he was drugged. It's wearing off now, though, which means he has a clear head to take in the all of nothing that's in the room with him.

He sits on the cot he woke up on and waits for something to happen.

There's no way for him to tell time, but he thinks it's an hour or so later when there's a sudden beep, and then the sound of a metal panel sliding up. It's a slot near the door that has just opened - inside the revealed alcove is a bottle of water.

He comes to it curiously, taking a long look around the bottle. The slot doesn't open straight through, and even if it did, it's not big enough for anything more than his arm or a foot to fit through. He thinks it must function like an airlock, or maybe they slid the bottle down from somewhere above - he feels around just in case, and finds that the slot is enclosed on all sides but his. Probably his airlock theory, then.

As soon as he removes the bottle, the panel slams shut again.

"You're really determined to keep me in here, huh?" he says to whatever hidden cameras are watching him. He carries the water bottle back to his cot, but doesn't open it, instead setting it down on the floor by the wall. The paranoid part of his brain, the one that doesn't miss a trick, is reminding him that drinking the water is probably a bad idea. Who knows what they might have put in it?

He sits on the cot for awhile longer. Still, nothing happens.

"I'm getting pretty bored in here," he says for the audience that must be somewhere. "Come on, you have a one of a kind turtle in here, and you don't even want to talk to me?"

Time passes, slow and quiet. Leo goes through periods where his anxiety spikes and he starts to wonder if he's been abandoned by whoever brought him here, before the boredom eventually numbs the anxiety back out. Another bottle of water is eventually delivered, and this one he keeps in his hands after retrieving it. It's completely unlabeled, not even a "Use by" date printed on the bottle itself, so it doesn't provide much mental stimulation. He spins the bottle to make little whirlpools inside, because it's something to do.

He's trying to make the fastest whirlpool he can when he hears a sudden click, different from the beep of the water bottle hole, and he looks up just in time to see a large section of the wall in front of him turn black, and then light up to show the room beyond his cell.

He jolts, setting the bottle aside. He knew they must be watching him, but somehow he didn't catch that part of the wall was a whole window.

His audience isn't very large - five people, unless there are others he can't see. Two wear lab coats, two wear fatigues... but the one who comes to stand directly in front of the window is wearing a black suit, with steel rimmed glasses. He leans forward, and speaks into a small microphone.

"Inmate 24365," says the suited man. "I am Agent Bishop, of the Earth Protection Force. My subordinates tell me that you can speak and understand the English language. Is this correct?"

"Qué?" Leo asks.

Bishop does not look amused. "Inmate 24365," he says, "you have two options. You can cooperate with me, answer my questions, and we will make your stay here more comfortable. Do not cooperate, and we will make your stay uncomfortable. Do you understand?"

Leo pretends to hem and haw over this. "How comfortable are we talkin'?"

"I'm sure you would like some dinner."

"You know, I'm not really hungry." He says it to be difficult, but it's actually true - the uncertainty of the situation has put his stomach in too many knots to want to eat anything. "Maybe if you offer me some comic books? Or a TV?

To Bishop's credit, his face doesn't so much as twitch. He keeps his steely eyes locked on Leo. "Answer our questions, and you will receive food. Do you understand?"

Leo stays noncommittal. "What are the questions?"

He's expecting Bishop to ask about his family. He's not expecting what comes next.

"How many gateways are there between New York City and the hidden yokai enclave?" he asks. "How are these gateways accessed? What kind of defensive capabilities do the yokai have?"

Leo keeps the surprise off his face. Bishop thinks he's a yokai.

This is, overall, a good development. Bishop might not know about Leo's family, then, or at least not know that they live on the surface. This means the Earth Protection Force likely isn't pursuing his brothers, which means they will be safe until they can help Leo get out of here.

He doesn't let the relief show through, either. Bishop doesn't know anything, and now Leo just has to ride out the next few hours until the calvary arrives.

"You know," he says, "I think I'm good with my current levels of comfort."

If Bishop is mad or frustrated or dismayed by this choice, he doesn't show it. His expression stays stony as he stares in at Leo, sizing him up.

"Very well," he says after a few more seconds. "I will see you tomorrow, then."

The window goes dark, and then turns stark white to match the walls. Leo wants to go over and tap at it, see if it feels different when he touches it, but knowing that Bishop is surely still there, watching him, keeps him rooted to the cot.

He goes back to making whirlpools with the bottle. If they aren't going to entertain him, he isn't going to entertain them, either.

-----

Another water bottle comes some time after his talk with Bishop. He finally opens this one and takes a cautious sip. Nothing tastes off or strange, so he drinks more. They don't want to feed him, but they're fine keeping him hydrated. No reason to stay thirsty, then.

He wishes the water calmed the anxiety still roiling in his stomach, but if anything it just makes him feel even more energized. He bounces his foot and surveys his room again, looking for any weak spots or access points. He can't see anything, though, other than the areas where he knows the water bottle hole and window are; even the vents that relentlessly blow cold air into the room are well hidden.

Knowing that there are people standing just outside his cell watching him, like some kind of zoo animal, puts him on edge. The window is so big that he's pretty sure the only blind spots are either directly underneath it or right by the door on the same wall. After debating it, he leaves his cot and sits on the floor underneath the window, surveying the room from a different angle now and still coming up empty. At least they're going to have a harder time staring at him.

His eyes catch on the toilet in the corner, directly across from the window. It's not in the blind spot, and realizing this makes his insides lurch uncomfortably - hopefully he has a chance to bust out before using it becomes necessary.

Though, he's not sure when that chance is going to come. If they have a slot to pass him water, they could use that to pass him food, too, so it's unlikely that anyone is going to open the door unless they need to take him out.

So maybe his fantasy of being outside when his brothers arrive isn't going to happen. Well, that's okay; he'll just be sure to make some other part of their escape totally rad. That will make up for the embarrassment of getting kidnapped a block from Run of the Mill.

(Seriously, some kind of ninja he is, to let a bunch of human soldiers sneak up on him.)

He drains the water bottle, then starts to roll it back and forth across the floor, like a cat batting at a toy. Leo's not sure what's worse right now: the worry or the boredom. There's nothing to look at and no one to talk to, just an empty room with him and his water bottles.

He's too keyed up to sleep, and the fluorescent lights are still on, anyway. He has no way of telling what time it is, so maybe it just isn't that late yet. And even sitting here, in the blind spot, the idea of closing his eyes while people are watching makes unease crawl up his spine. Staying awake is the easy choice. He'll sleep after he's out of here.

So he sits under the window and rolls his bottle back and forth, back and forth, with only the sound of plastic on tile to keep his thoughts company.

-----

The first three water bottles came pretty regularly, but now there is a very long stretch where nothing is delivered. Leo is starting to think maybe it really is night now. They don't turn off the lights in his cell, though, and he has no controls to do it himself. At least it helps with the whole "staying awake" thing.

Just in case they've decided to suspend his water privileges along with the food, he holds off drinking any more for now.

Speaking of food, his appetite has finally decided to return. His stomach starts to growl at him after several hours (he thinks) of sitting in the floor, an annoying emptiness in his stomach. Knowing there's no food accessible just makes the hunger sharper, but he puts it out of his mind the best he can with nothing else to focus on. He can eat once he's free.

Which should be soon. Seriously, his brothers have to be on their way by now, right?

He's pretty sure it's been the better part of a day, if not a whole day, since he was kidnapped. And, okay, he's willing to give them some leeway; it's understandable if they got a late start. He did storm out of the lair after his latest fight with Raph, and no one ever came to check on him when he did that. Understandably, he thinks, because who wants to be around Bad Mood Leo? Not even Leo wants to be around Bad Mood Leo!

But he'd already turned back into Good Mood Leo by the time he left Hueso's, so surely they knew it had been more than enough time. They would have noticed when he didn't come home. They would have realized something happened. They would be looking for him.

And if they're looking for him, they'll find him! Obviously.

His stomach growls again, and Leo leans his head back against the wall behind him. Maybe he shouldn't think of being at Hueso's. Now he just wants pizza. Pepperoni and mushroom, maybe, or Hawaiian. Mix it up a little with the barbeque chicken.

Another growl. He groans out loud.

He stays awake, twisting and crinkling the empty bottle in his hands, until another full one finally arrives.

-----

No chance to escape comes before using the toilet is necessary.

He tried to hold out, he really did, but he ended up drinking more water to stave off the growing hunger, and it's lowkey cold in here, which doesn't help. Still, the issue of the window sends an uneasy shiver up his spine, doubting that any people outside will feel the need to turn away and give him some privacy. Maybe he should have gone while he suspected it was nighttime.

(Maybe he shouldn't assume they ever aren't watching him.)

He stands up and walks over to the cot, giving it a light nudge with his foot. In a stroke of luck, it isn't bolted to the floor, and it's light enough that he can lift it. The black mesh it's made of is tightly woven, enough that not much is visible through it. It will have to do.

He picks it up and drags it over in front of the toilet, propping it up on its legs so it makes a small wall between himself and the window. It's hardly ideal, but the semblance of privacy makes him relax somewhat.

(He can't think about how there are surely cameras in the room watching him from all angles, making his attempt at a barrier moot. He knows better than anyone that sometimes pleasant lies are necessary.)

After he does his business, he leaves the cot propped where it is; it's not like he's sleeping on it. There's no sink for him to wash his hands, but he's never been the strictest about it, anyway (much to Donnie's disgust). He returns to his spot under the window, squeezing the water bottle to the rhythm of the first song that comes to mind.

Only two verses and a bridge later, the window above his head turns black, then goes clear. Thinking that Bishop might have been watching him just now makes a cold, slimy feeling roll down his spine. Creepy!

"Inmate 24365," comes Bishop's voice through the unseen speaker. "Stand."

Leo doesn't. He stays right where he is, under the window.

Bishop waits only a few seconds. Then Leo hears him say, "Temperature down two degrees."

He gets up at that, turning and leaning his arm against the window. It strangely doesn't feel like glass, even though it must be. "It's already cold enough in here," he says. He wonders how they can hear him, when he doesn't see a microphone on his side.

"You were told your conditions would only be made comfortable after you answer our questions," Bishop informs him. "The same as before: how many gateways are there between New York City and the hidden yokai enclave? How are these gateways-"

"How about you answer my questions first," Leo interjects. "You keep calling me "inmate," but I haven't been charged with anything. Pretty sure you can't detain me without cause."

"The EPF is authorized to detain non-human inmates for as long as deemed necessary for the security of the United States," says Bishop smoothly. "Probable cause doctrine does not apply in this case."

"That's gotta be unconstitutional."

"The constitution does not recognize the rights of yokai. You have no right to counsel, no right to a speedy trial, and no right to protections from cruel and unusual punishments." Bishop's stare is colder than the temperature in the room. "But I am not an unfair man. Answer my questions, and I will provide you with food and clothing."

Leo tosses a glance over his shoulder. "How about a private bathroom?"

Bishop's expression stays ever in place, unimpressed and stoic. "Food and clothing," he repeats.

Leo gives his head a shake. "Then nope," he says, popping the "p". "I plead the fifth."

"As I have already explained, the Bill of Rights does not apply to you."

"That's such crap." Leo bangs his fist on the window. "You can't just keep me here forever for no reason!"

"I do have reasons." Bishop leans closer to the window, his eyes narrowing. "Let's try a different question. What is your relation to Baron Draxum?"

The surprise is fast and sharp, but Leo just manages to keep it from showing on his face. "Who?" he asks innocently, even as the panic sets into his chest. If they know about Draxum, what else do they know?

"We know you are acquainted with him," says Bishop. "What is the nature of your relationship?"

Leo knows they aren't bluffing - why would they bring up that very specific name otherwise? There's no lie he can tell that won't reveal something.

So he doesn't say anything. Instead, he turns his back to the window and sits down, staring resolutely at the opposite wall.

Bishop clicks his tongue. "Very well," he says. "I am a patient man. I can wait." Then, more muffled, like he's facing away from the microphone, Leo hears him say, "Temperature down two degrees."

The window goes dark, then turns back to white. Leo doesn't move for a long time.

-----

The third water bottle arrives, so he guesses that's the end of day two.

He's shaking as he gets up to retrieve it, adding it to his growing water bottle hoard. He's gone through three and a half by now, but he's trying not to drink them too fast.

As promised, no food is delivered, and his stomach growls and rumbles in protest. The water helps, but only slightly. He needs to eat.

He also needs to sleep.

The panicked adrenaline spikes that have kept him awake this long are starting to die down, with more and more long stretches of exhaustion between them. The shaking is near constant, bringing with it the weird jittery feeling he gets when his insomnia gets particularly bad.

The window is still unnerving him. The idea of sleeping while they're watching him feels staggeringly unsafe.

But he doesn't think he can hold out now until his family gets here. Sure, they're probably getting close (they have to be getting close), but they're sure taking their sweet time. And he's just so tired.

After a long internal debate, he lays down on the cold tile floor. It's not at all comfortable, but somehow he doubts the cot would be any better. Besides, even if he moves the cot under the window, he thinks it would be easier to see him if he uses it. So on the floor it is.

He presses as close to the wall as he can, curling up into a ball for warmth. He wishes he had a blanket.

He wishes he was home.

He squeezes his eyes shut tight and forces back the sudden wave of overwhelming homesickness. There's no reason to feel this way. It's only been two days! What is he, a baby?

It's fine. It's all fine. They're definitely on his trail now. Raph is leading the team. Donnie is using some kind of invention to blah blah blah nerd stuff. Mikey is razzing his tazz. April is using her investigative journalism skills to find clues.

They're on their way. He just has to hold out a little longer. He can do this.

He sleeps, and in his dreams, something grabs him tight and drags him down and down and down where he can't escape.

-----

The same routine plays out over the next two days.

Leo gets two water bottles delivered, spaced, if he had to guess, about five hours apart. Bishop comes to visit him some time after the second bottle. Leo refuses to answer his questions. Bishop turns the temperature down and then leaves. A few hours later his last water bottle comes. Then nothing for the whole night.

They still don't turn off his lights, but exhaustion is starting to win over the brightness.

More than a few times, Leo tries to summon a portal on his own, without his swords. If his family is going to take their sweet time in coming, he might as well try to help them out. He tries to summon his ninpo (without glowing), tries to feel the tug inside of him that he always does when he teleports, tries to envision the place he wants to go and tunnel through space to get there.

Nothing. Always nothing.

(Donnie can make his constructs independent of his bo staff. Raph can send his projections away from his sai. Mikey's learning to use mystic powers without his nunchucks. So why does Leo need his katana? Why is he the only one this useless?)

It probably doesn't help that he's so damn hungry. It's a constant companion now, a low and hollow ache that chooses inconvenient times to turn into white hot stabs of urgency, into seizing cramps that steal his breath. The water only helps so much - it keeps him alive but doesn't satisfy, doesn't soothe. In some ways it just makes the feeling worse.

And he's always shaking, too, but he doesn't know if that's the hunger or the cold.

Maybe the cold wouldn't bother him so much if it were at least still. But the vents blow fresh air inside relentlessly, and no matter where he goes he can't seem to get out of the direct stream. The cold wind batters his tired body, and there's places his skin is starting to turn dry and flaky. His nose won't stop running, and he's allowed himself a small section of his one roll of toilet paper to blow it, already stiff and congealed and disgusting.

It's miserable.

And there's still nothing to do.

He stacks a pyramid out of his empty water bottles, knocks it down, then stacks it up again. He tries to come up with some new and exciting ways to demolish it, but it's only new and exciting for so long.

He spends a few hours of day three singing karaoke as obnoxiously as possible. He hopes everyone outside enjoys the performance.

He recounts every issue of Jupiter Jim he knows to himself, then the plot of every movie. Then he goes through Lou Jitsu films, then anything else he can think of. That eats up a good chunk of day four.

By the time he gets his first water bottle of day five, he's out of ideas to entertain himself. He's never been good at this. He doesn't know how introverts like Donnie can go multiple days without talking to someone.

But when Bishop comes back with his daily offer of conversation, Leo once again impolitely declines.

-----

Something new happens on night five.

It's been a long time since the last water bottle. Leo has been trying to sleep, but it's not coming easy; he's exhausted, but the floor is so cold and he's so sore from staying on it night after night. Not to mention, his nightmares have been getting worse, and he isn't eager to return to them.

Add on the hunger, and sleep is elusive.

Suddenly, there's the telltale shadow of the window above him turning dark - this time, though, it doesn't light up as much as normal. Confused and curious, Leo sits up and takes a peek.

The room beyond is dim, only the glow of a green EXIT sign and a small desk lamp lighting the space. But it's enough for Leo to see a man standing there, looking inside. It's not Bishop - in fact, he doesn't recognize this person at all. They're wearing fatigues, but it's not anyone he's seen in the room during Bishop's normal interrogations.

The man catches sight of Leo, and the grinning leer on his face makes Leo regret looking.

He beckons for Leo to stand up. Warily, Leo does, unable to help but keep his arms folded tight over his chest. Not for the first time, he wishes he had some clothes - his gear, at the very least. Anything to not feel quite so exposed.

The man reaches down and picks something up, holding it aloft for Leo's inspection. "Want a sandwich?" he asks into the microphone.

The sandwich looks like white bread and bologna. No cheese, no other toppings that Leo can spot. Maybe some mustard, if anything. Overall, the most boring possible sandwich he could have been offered.

Leo's mouth is watering.

He has to swallow hard before answering. He doesn't trust this. Even if his stomach is slamming up and down at the promise of food, food, food.

"I'm not hungry," he lies.

The man laughs. It's not a kind sound. "Sure you ain't," he says. "You spend every night curled up on the floor like the dumb animal you are. Can you even eat this?" He waves the sandwich for emphasis.

Leo doesn't answer. He takes a step back from the window, like that will put any kind of distance between them. Like that will save him.

The man watches him with a sleezy grin. He waves the sandwich again.

"You want this," he says.

Leo shakes his head.

"You really sure?"

Leo shudders. Stands tall. Nods.

The man watches him for a long, long moment. Leo fights the urge to hide.

Finally, with a shrug, the man says, "Suit yourself."

Then he starts eating the sandwich. Right where Leo can watch.

Leo's stomach growls, loud and angry in his ears, and he has to physically hold himself back from crumpling.

After several bites, the man suddenly reaches out and taps the window, indicating the cot stood up in front of the toilet.

"That," he says, giving another tap for emphasis, "doesn't do shit."

Leo wants to crawl out of his own skin.

The need to hide is suddenly too great. He rushes to the cot, grabbing it and dragging it back to the blind spot under the window. He sets it down on all four legs, so it's as close to the floor as possible.

Then he lies down on his belly and wriggles underneath. It's a tight squeeze, and the cot ends up pushed up by his shell, suspended in the air, but he doesn't care.

He curls up in his pleasant lie of privacy and bites his hand to keep from screaming himself hoarse.

After an eternity, the window above him turns white again. It doesn't matter. Leo knows he's still there. Still watching.

-----

"You look tired," Bishop greets him. Leo answers with a dead-eyed stare.

"I keep telling you, if you want your conditions to improve, all you have to do is answer my questions."

Leo says nothing. He just stares, arms wrapped tight around himself to try and keep his body heat in.

"How many gateways are there between New York City and the hidden yokai enclave? How are these gateways accessed?"

For a moment, Leo considers just... telling him.

His family doesn't live in the Hidden City. The yokai have never exactly greeted them with open arms. What does he care if these military guys go after them? At least then, maybe he can finally eat something.

That's not what a hero does, Leo! echoes Mind Raph disapprovingly. Innocent people will get hurt!

Right. He's a hero. And heroes don't give into the demands of shitty guys like Bishop.

Leo swallows hard. "No comment."

Bishop's face changes ever so slightly: his brow creases. Leo wonders if that's good or bad for him.

"You understand that Baron Draxum is a known threat, don't you?" he asks. "We are aware of his plans to commit mass murder on the human population. We also know that he has been dormant for some time, and we need information on what he is planning."

Leo thinks of Barry's ambitions to be recognized as the best lunchperson in all of America and can't help but laugh. It comes out cracked and wheezing.

Bishop's furrow gets deeper. "Do you think this is funny?"

"Little bit," says Leo.

Bishop has a chasm to rival Raph's now. Leo knows he shouldn't, but he grins. It's his one moment of triumph - only he can be this aggravating.

And then Bishop says, "Temperature down seven degrees," and that wipes the smile right off Leo's face.

-----

The plastic of the water bottles is soft and pliable and feels weirdly good under Leo's teeth.

He chews the top of the bottle, gnawing at it until it's completely flattened out, pockmarked with little tiny indents from his incisors. It's not eating - it won't fill his belly or ease the persistent hunger pains. But something about the motion is soothing. The place-bo effect.

Pla-ce-bo, corrects Donnie's voice in his mind, sounding testy.

Where are you? Leo thinks back.

There's no answer.

He's gnawed his way through four water bottles. There's eighteen in total now, two and a half still full of water. He thought about using one to wash up a bit, but decided against it in the end. He knows he stinks, but the last thing he wants right now is to be wet. Not when he's starting to see his breath.

Oh well. It's not like he has anywhere to be.

He turns his attentions to the lids next. These are harder and thus tougher to chew. Still, if Leo uses his molars, he can eventually crack the lip, and then bend the plastic in and in, chewing until he ends up with a flat disc.

It's just small enough that Leo could swallow it, if he wanted to.

He thinks he remembers watching some kind of wildlife documentary. Or maybe he didn't watch it himself, but Mikey told him about it. Or maybe April? He doesn't know. His thoughts swim in and out and get lost on the way.

Point is. Sea turtles in the wild die all the time because of plastic in the water. They cut open their stomachs and find trash inside.

Well, Leo is a turtle in captivity. Maybe that means he's immune. Maybe he could swallow this plastic lid, and then he'd finally feel full and the pain pain pain of his empty stomach would go away.

He does not swallow the plastic lid. But it's more tempting than he'd like to admit.

It's going to be okay. When his family gets him out of here, they'll have a big pizza to celebrate. Maybe he can even talk them into letting him have the last slice.

It has to be any moment now, right? It's been a week. They have to be closing in. Any moment now, the door will open, and there they'll be to take him home.

The air conditioning blows relentlessly against his skin. He sneezes, then rubs the snot on his arm. He's given up on the tissue paper.

It'll be over soon. It has to be. Just hang in there, Leon, just a little longer.

He picks up another bottle and starts chewing.

-----

He's playing a mindless little game with his flattened bottle lids the next time Bishop comes.

"I'm surprised you still have any energy at all," says Bishop, and Leo wants to punch him.

(Really, he wants to do more than that. But those kinds of thoughts always make him feel weird and bad, so he pushes them away.)

"You should have learned by now," he says, pushing to his feet and trying not to show how badly he's trembling, "you can't keep me down."

"This is all unnecessary," says Bishop. "I'll feed you as soon as you answer my questions."

Leo barks out a laugh. "Sure you will."

"I will," says Bishop. He turns and says over his shoulder, "Bring it here."

One of the men in fatigues steps forward and hands a tray with a covered plate over to Bishop. Bishop uncovers the tray and holds it where Leo can see.

Baked chicken, broccoli with cheese, mashed potatoes.

Leo's stomach twists and cramps so painfully he has to bend at the hips and clutch his midriff.

"This is yours, as soon as you answer my questions."

Leo pointedly keeps from looking at the food. He shakes his head. He can't. He can't.

"Such persistence." Bishop's voice is scolding now. "You understand that you are a known accomplice to a terrorist, don't you? But if you become a cooperating witness, you will be granted some leniency."

Leo barks a laugh, lifting his eyes to look at Bishop's face, and pointedly not the food. "What's the point?" he asks. "If I'm not... protected by the constitution, or whatever. Are you going to let me go?"

"No," says Bishop. "But as I have told you, your conditions will become more comfortable." He waves the tray of food.

Leo stares at him, before a manic smile splits his face.

"You... stupid bastard. I can't even answer your questions." He slams a shaking hand against his plastron. "I'm not even a yokai! Do you get that? I'm not a yokai!"

Bishop looks skeptical. "Obviously you are."

"I'm not!" Leo rages. "I'm a mutant! I'm from New York! I don't even live in the Hidden City!"

Bishop's eyes flash. "I see," he says, "so you do know of it."

Leo falters, his body going slack.

What an obvious, stupid mistake.

(Some face-man he is.)

It takes Leo a long moment to answer. Bishop stays right where he is, holding the food so tantalizingly close and yet still out of reach.

"...I don't know about the gateways," he says finally. "I don't know about their defensive capabilities. I don't know what Baron Draxum is planning."

"Your lies are obvious," says Bishop. "You really don't want this? It's your last chance today."

Leo stares at the food. His mouth is watering so hard it might start to drip. Would it really be so bad to answer? They don't live in the Hidden City. And Draxum dropped him off a roof.

Draxum is trying to change, says Mind Raph. You see what these guys are like. You can't turn the yokai over to them. They'll hurt them!

What about me? he asks. Is it okay if I get hurt?

You're a hero, Leo, says Mind Raph. You can deal with it for a little longer. It's just a room. Just a little cold. Just some hunger.

He's a hero. He can deal with it. He can. He can.

He'll make them proud. Show them they can trust him.

It takes everything he has, but he shakes his head.

Bishop tuts. Then he throws the entire plate in the trash.

"Tomorrow, then," he says. Then the window is gone.

Leo collapses on his cot and tries not to cry.

-----

After his third water bottle on day eight, one of the fluorescent lights over his head flickers and then dies out.

It's not surprising, since they keep them running twenty-four seven. The blessedly dimmed lighting is actually nice, for once. Leo thinks maybe he could get some sleep, if the gnawing hunger and the constant shivers don't keep him awake.

He's just closed his eyes and snuggled up under his cot when it occurs to him: they may come in to fix it. If keeping the lights on day and night is part of their plan to torture him, to keep him exhausted and anxious and on edge, then they have to.

Which means his chance is finally here.

He has to be careful about this. He has to be ready to move, but he can't let them know he's ready to move. He has to let them think he's too weak, too exhausted, to make an escape attempt.

(He can't let himself think that, though. He can't give up before he tries.)

So he stays under his cot, but subtly shifts it so it won't restrict his movement. He has to be ready to burst out as soon as he gets a chance. Get past whoever comes in, then get out the door. It's after the last water bottle, so it's nighttime. There will be fewer people. He can do this. He can do this.

Find his swords. Make a portal. Get out.

Just as he was thinking, after a long time has passed, there is a loud warning beep, different from the water bottle beep. An automated voice says from somewhere unseen, "Inmates clear the door. Security personnel entering. Stay still and you will not be harmed."

Then the door slides open, and someone comes in.

It's a man wearing fatigues. Leo thinks this is the one who "offered" him a sandwich the other day. He's holding some kind of gun with a long barrel. He does a sweep of the room with his eyes, coming to rest on Leo under his cot. He gives Leo the same leering grin, and waves the barrel of the gun in his direction.

"Now you behave, and we'll get along just fine," he says.

He steps to the side, and another man enters, this one wearing the kind of jumpsuit Leo sees janitors in on TV. He's carrying a stepladder in one hand and a long tube in the other. Is that what fluorescent lights look like? Leo didn't know.

The man walks to the middle of the room and sets up his stepladder. Then he walks up and pulls off the light casing. When he unhooks the old bulb, it causes the other bulb to flicker, just for a few moments.

Leo explodes out from under the cot, grabbing the man in fatigues by the legs and yanking as hard as he can. The man yelps in surprise, and Leo hears the sound of the gun going off in a random direction. The janitor shouts and drops the light bulb - the sound of shattering glass joins the cacophony.

Leo jumps to his feet and runs out the door they had been too stupid to close, sprinting toward the EXIT sign. He's exhausted and shaky but he's coursing with adrenaline, and he leans on it hard to keep him moving. Don't stop, don't stop, get out of here. He'll figure out what to do next once he's free.

Past the exit sign there's a large open room with desks and computer monitors. Most of them are off, but one lingering woman in a lab coat, seated at her desk, screams when she sees Leo dash through the middle of the office space.

"Security!" she screams into a device on her chest. "Inmate is escaping! Inmate is escaping!"

Leo doesn't have time to shut her up, he just keeps moving. He pushes through the next door and arrives in a hallway; he only has time to glance one way and then the other before scrambling to the left, hoping it was a good choice.

He rounds a corner and sees another green EXIT sign up ahead. It's not where he meant to go - he meant to find where they're keeping his swords first. But he hears shouting behind him and doesn't stop. Fine, so no portals - he'll figure out something else once he's away from here.

He throws himself forward into the exit door, which leads him into yet another hallway. Another long sprint, with shouting and slamming doors at his heels, and then finally, finally, a third EXIT sign, and he crashes outside.

Where there's snow on the ground, snow on the trees.

It steals his breath away. There shouldn't be snow. It's May.

Where is he?

He takes a breath of air so cold it seizes his lungs, then takes a step forward. He'll worry about that-

BANG!

A piercing pain in his shoulder nearly sends him toppling over. Leo shouts, grasping for the wound and feeling something sticking out of his skin. He grabs it and yanks, pulling it free.

It's a dart.

Damn it, he thinks, before his vision goes woozy, and he collapses into the snow.

-----

"Are you proud of your little escape attempt?" comes Bishop's voice.

Leo looks up from his cot. Bishop has to get so close to the window to see him that his nose is pressed flat against it. It should be hilarious, but Leo doesn't really have the energy to laugh. Or to do much of anything.

He's hungry. He's tired. He's cold. He's still sluggish from the drugs.

And they threw away all his water bottles. Fuckers.

Leo rolls over on the cot and covers his ears.

"What a childish response," says Bishop, and that's funny, too, because Leo literally is a child. Or a teenager, anyway. He doesn't feel like it will help him much to point that out, though.

"All you have to do is answer my questions, and all this will be fixed."

That's the funniest thing of all. The idea that he spills his guts and Bishop treats him to a five course meal to make up for all the pain up till now. Hilarious.

He says nothing.

Bishop sighs.

"You are likely still affected by the tranquilizing agent. I'll return tomorrow."

Before he leaves, he says, "Temperature down five degrees."

-----

The same man is back that night. He opens the window and looks down at Leo with the same leering smile. Leo can't even take satisfaction in the bandage on the side of his head.

"Neat little trick you had yesterday," he says. "Almost got me fired."

Leo wishes it had gotten him fired. But he clearly has no luck in this situation.

"You know, I respect the attempt. And you probably would have gotten farther with a little food in your belly." The man reaches down, then retrieves a sandwich, as mouth-wateringly unappetizing as the last time. "You sure you don't want this?"

And Leo knows he shouldn't trust this guy. Leo knows he should say no.

But he's just...

so...

hungry.

So he gets up. And he turns to the window. On shaking limbs that can barely hold him upright anymore. With a body that is laced with pain and aches and cramps.

And he nods.

The man's smile gets wider. "What do you say?" he asks, in the sing-song tone of a parent scolding a child.

It makes a sick nausea rise in Leo's throat. But he wants the sandwich.

"Please," he gasps out.

"Mmm... not good enough." The man waves the sandwich. "You want this? You beg for it."

Leo stares, eyes wide. But the sandwich... the sandwich...

He gets down on his knees. Feels a searing flush of humiliation. His stomach is rolling and gurgling and cramping with pain, a hollow, empty chasm inside him desperate to be filled.

He lowers his head.

"Please," he says. "I... I want the sandwich. I'm... begging you, please."

The man laughs, loud and long. When Leo finally finds it in him to raise his eyes, the sandwich is already half eaten.

"Hey, good job," says the man, licking a bit of mustard off his thumb. "That was real convincin'."

And then he takes another bite.

Just like that, Leo forgets about the pain, the aches, the cold, the hunger. All that's left is pure, white hot, screaming rage.

Leo lunges at the window and slams his fist into it so hard it cracks. Not enough to break the glass. Not enough to free him. But enough that the man startles and steps back.

And Leo starts to laugh. High and manic and unhinged even to his own ears.

"I'll kill you," he says, and his voice sounds almost joking, and yet- "I'll kill you. You're dead. You're dead, as soon as I get out of here, you're dead, I'll kill you, I'LL KILL YOU!"

The man has dropped the rest of his sandwich. He fumbles for his gun, left somewhere on a table to the side. For one satisfying moment, Leo sees a flash of genuine fear on the man's face.

"Shit," he says, his voice far away the further he gets from the microphone. "Pretty scary, frogboy."

Then he slams a button, and the window goes black, and Leo gets a glimpse of his own reflection.

His face is gaunt and drawn. His eyes are ringed by deep circles, so dark they look like bruises. His body is shaking like a leaf.

And his stripes...

His stripes are lit up like when he uses his ninpo, but they aren't their usual Neon Leon bright.

They're almost black.

Leo gasps and stumbles back just as the window goes white. The full body quakes he feels now aren't from the cold or the hunger or the exhaustion.

He turns and sinks onto the cot. Puts his face in his hands and tries to breathe. Tries to will his ninpo to stop rolling and snapping and to go back to normal.

This isn't what he wants. This isn't him.

This place is breaking him. He's letting it break him.

He pulls his legs up onto the cot and buries his face in his knees. Wraps his arms around them and rocks gently, the way Donnie used to do when things got overwhelming. Maybe he understands that better, now.

This isn't him. He's Leonardo, Neon Leon, the face-man, the jokester! The one who's always ready with a quip and a laugh. The one who can do anything!

Except portal out of his room. Except escape from this building. Except resist begging for a sandwich like he's a dog.

Leo's breath hitches, and for once he doesn't stop himself. He knows the guy outside is probably watching. He knows there are cameras recording this. He hates giving them the satisfaction.

But he's tired, and hungry, and he...

He wants to go home.

He cries, silently, until he's completely rung out.

-----

Maybe they aren't coming.

That's the thought that pops into his head, just a bit after the first water bottle of the day.

He knew they would have gotten a late start, because he stormed out. And he knew it would take them awhile to figure out who took him - he hadn't heard of the EPF before, so why would they? And he knew it would take them time to figure out where he had been taken, which must have been pretty far out if it's snowing outside. But the EPF got him here within a night, he's pretty sure, so unless they have a super fast jet, he must still be on the continent somewhere.

So... so surely they must have figured it out by now, right? Raph is leading the team. Donnie is doing science things. Mikey is razzing his tazz. April is using her investigative skills.

Unless they aren't coming.

Maybe... maybe it's true. Why would they want him back, after all? Leo took Raph's leader position, and since then all he'd managed to do was piss Raph off. Mikey and Donnie hadn't been happy about it, either, and he'd noticed that they'd been avoiding him more and more. April claimed she wasn't taking sides, but she always seemed to be on Raph's anyway. And Dad... well, he was probably disappointed that he made Leo leader only for him to do nothing and then get himself kidnapped.

He doesn't bring anything to the team. He doesn't bring anything to the family. And no one likes his jokes.

So. Maybe they just... aren't looking. Maybe they aren't going to come.

Maybe he's held out this long for no reason. Maybe he's been cold and starving for no reason at all.

Maybe it's time to give up.

---

Don't give up, says a new voice in his head.

You are not alone.

-----

He has no energy left to stand when Bishop comes. The man looks down at him, lips pressed into a thin line.

"You don't look well," he observes.

No shit, Leo wants to say.

"This has gone on long enough. Answer my questions, and we will provide you with food, clothing, and medical care."

The list is getting longer. Leo's fuzzy eyes stare up at Bishop. Medical care. Does he need that?

"You already know what I want to know." Bishop has a furrow between his eyebrows now. "Will you talk to me?"

He could. He could do it. He could finally have some relief from all the pain. All the hunger. All the cold.

But they might hurt the yokai in the Hidden City.

They might hurt Draxum.

They might hurt his family.

And maybe, if nothing else... if Leo could just keep his mouth shut, just this once...

Maybe that would finally make Raph, Dad, and everyone proud of him.

Maybe they'd finally trust him.

Maybe, at least, he can have that much.

Leo shakes his head.

Bishop scowls.

"Temperature down ten degrees."

-----

Leo isn't shivering anymore. That's probably a bad sign.

He can still see his breath, each time he exhales. It rises like smoke, before disappearing into the air.

He doesn't have any energy left, not even to chew on his new water bottles. He hasn't even collected the last two, and they sit crowded together in the slot, untouched.

He kind of wishes they had just dissected him from the beginning. It would have been faster. Freezing to death, he's decided, is a real zero out of ten. Starving to death isn't any better. No stars.

Even though the damn lights are still on, he feels extremely sleepy. It's probably the cold. He wonders what will happen if he brumates. He's never done it before, not like his little cousins, and he has no idea if it's even safe.

Probably not, given he has no calorie reserves left. All it means is he won't be drinking water, either.

But he's so sleepy.

It's going to be time soon for Bishop to come back. Leo doesn't know what the point is anymore. Maybe he'll just sleep through it. Yeah, that would really make him mad. And making Bishop mad is all he has at this point.

And he'll get to sleep. It's a win-win.

So thinking, Leo rolls himself over onto his belly. Then, one by one, he pulls his limbs into his shell.

He doesn't do this much anymore, not since he started growing. His body just doesn't seem to fit his shell like it should - a side effect of the mutation, probably. It's not really comfortable to be inside for long.

But Leo is sleepy. And his shell feels like the best place to be.

So he pulls in his legs, then his arms, and then, finally, his head.

It's not any warmer in here. But at least it's dark.

At least he's not shivering.

Leo sighs, content, and closes his eyes, and drifts to sleep.

-----

(Outside his cell, there's a bang, and shouting, and a gunshot.

The sound is muffled, and Leo sleeps on.)

-----

Part 1 (here) | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 Part A |

#rottmnt #rise leo #agent bishop #cw: psychological torture #dandy fanfiction #I want it to be clear that any time Leo is hearing “Mind Raph”#that's just his own inner voice manifesting #please don't be mad at Raph himself lol

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error-dream-was-found · 18 days ago

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I just saw your idea about Quackity sucking at torture and I am SO intrigued 👀 Please do tell

(Also I absolutely love love love your writing <3)

Hiii, thank you for asking :)

And I'm happy to hear that you enjoy my writing <3

It's been a while since I came up with that idea and I can't seem to find my notes on it (I found like 15 other half forgotten AUs instead oops) but I'm pretty sure it came from some discussion with Flora.

The basic idea is that everything happens just as it does in canon and Quackity goes to torture Dream. This is where things get sketchy because as I said, this is a 100 % crack idea so ... what if Quackity just somehow managed to fuck up every single torture attempt?

I really wish I could find my notes on this because I know I had some specific ideas written down but let's go with what I remember. During the first visit I think he might've just underestimated Dream who in spite of being in the prison for a while now was still able to dodge Quackity and maybe even disarm him or something just it ends up with Sam having to interfere.

But it's okay! Quackity's got it! It was just a ... a minor inconvenience, nothing more. But ... things are just not working out during his second visit either, nor during the third one or the fourth one.

Dream is totally not giving fuck about what Quackity wants and for the sake of crack Quackity just miserably fails in all his attempts to torture Dream in the most ridiculous ways possible.

Like, he will get his axe stuck in the obsidian and can't pull it out, he drops a harming potion and hits himself instead of Dream, he sets himself on fire on accident (that lava wall had no business being over there!), he fails to realize that Dream is actually good in strategic games and his plan to hurt Dream for losing a game fails when the game drags on for way too long (bonus points if he loses somehow). Just some very weird (and hopefully somewhat funny) stuff happens.

Some time he doesn't even get to try his hand at torture because he gets carried away with wedding preparation and all (just imagine him forcing Dream help with choosing the decorations or something lol)

After his fight with Karl Dream is forced to be the therapist (he has no escape while Quackity cries about the state of his relationship), least to say Dream is very confused why Quackity thought he is the right person to ask about the relationship problems (srsly Q have you seen the state of his relationships???)

At this point Dream himself might try to give him tips, look he is not a fan of getting tortured but this is just sad, okay?

Perhaps he will manage to actually hurt Dream at some point but by then I think he would be too used to failing that it actually freaks him out more than it freaks out Dream himself. The rest of the "session" was spend fretting over Dream because god man you're bleeding! Dream is just there like ... isn't this what you wanted? And well yeah but also no! (Q has some very mixed feelings)

Overall though I think Q would maim himself in that cell more than he ever did to Dream. On accident of course. I never figured out the logistics of this one but it'd be hella funny if Q somehow managed to idk cut of his own finger or something of the sort which would just end up with him freaking out and Dream having to try to calm him down while also calling for Sam to bring a healing potion

I know that it's supper cannon inaccurate but it's really just a crack idea without any real plot behind it 😅

#thanks for asking I love talking about my silly ideas :)#please ignore the grammar errors my autocorrect loves to screw me over 🤦‍♀️#c!dream #c!quackity #c!dream and c!quackity #dsmp #dreblr #dream smp #dsmp au #can i tell you a story?

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snakeredbirdbatkatana · 2 months ago

Text

It was another competion the entire family all shoving and pushing each other into the car to see more of Damian's art.

Tim is excited for Damian.

He knows what it's like, to stand there and have no one show up. To be there all by yourself for hours the only one to visit your booth being the art teacher.

Ms. Carrington who would ask questions and ignore the tears that pooled in his eyes before helping him pack everything up, sometimes even driving him home because of course neither his parents or Bruce could be bothered to pick him up.

He can't really help the envy that he can feel building in his chest mixing with a good chunk of repressed anger.

A elbow being jabbed into his ribs distracts him.

"Hey what's with the face? Perk up Boy-Loser it's Damian's night."

He turns to Steph the smile that he had been attempting to plaster on falling. It's such a stupid thing it's a nickname so what if it's demeaning, he gets called pretender or replacement by Jason what does it matter.

"Do you ever think it's kinda fucked up that not a single person in this family calls me anything that isn't an insult?" He snaps.

She looks shocked. How fucking dare he have an ounce of self esteem. Someone alert the Media Tim Drake isn't a dormat.

He turns away sliding into the crowd.

There's less then half an hour left before he can leave. Pratically throwing himself down in the empty hallway as far as he can get from this entire night.

"Baby bird and Timmy aren't insults? Or are they I can't seem to keep up with the kids these days."

He turns, of course. You might be able to run from Batman or lie to him, but you can never escape the grasp of Big Brother Nightwing.

"So your admitting that your old?" he joins the banter.

His muscles start to unclench another superpower only Dick Grayson seems to have.

"Never, something you want to talk about?"

Does he? No. Should he? Yah.

"Maybe I just don't want be insulted every day of my life. So weird who doesn't want to be reminded they suck?"

He can hear the whine, he can also hear that everything he just said isn't gonna matter. You don't take whiny little boys seriously. And that's what he is.

"Hmm you know I get called Dickhead or really a lot of just penis related jokes. Always hated them not that it really stops anyone."

He looks finally making eye contact with his big brother. Because he's right. How many times has he heard anyone in the family other than him and Damian call Dick anything nice. Never not once. Maybe Bruce but he can't really picture it.

"Also don't think I didn't notice how annoyed you are with Bruce about this entire night, which I don't blame you for. You know I love Damian kiddo, but yah Bruce is not winning a mug from me or you."

He doesn't really want to acknowledge any of that already exhausted and he will have to apologize to Steph and if he opens the box it will be a car ride from hell home.

"Luckily for you I have a car parked a block up we can escape get ice cream and have a nice sleepover in bludhaven."

He wants to so bad, he wants to throw himself at Dick who knows him so well, who followed him out here, who isn't blinking, the only adult who has ever not somehow fucked him over.

"What about Damian? He will be pissed at me for stealing you or something. He doesn't need another reason to stab me."

He turns to look back at the floor.

"Foolish Drake I will be coming with you Father is being insesently annoying and I much rather talk about art with someone who has a brain cell."

Both him and Dick whip around to see Damian standing there a slight blush on his face hesitation making the corner of mouth twitch. He sees Dick looking on unsure. He doesn't hesitate.

"Thank god I know a great place with that Vegan Cookie Dough you like. What you waiting for Big Bird? Let's go. "

Climbling to his feet he grabs Dick and Damian dragging them to the exit he hears Dick's confused muttering sharing a secret smile with Damian before ignoring it.

The night is finally looking up.

#Tim Dick and Damian are the best trio argue with the wall #Don't picture Damian who saw his favorite people leave and immediately was ready to book it also don't imagine Damian listening #working up the courage to try and go with them #but do imagine the other batfamily members looking very confused when they are all gone #tim drake #dick grayson #batfamily #jason todd #bruce wayne #damian wayne #I used Stephanie because in the comics she calls Tim like a lot of kinda iffy nicknames she is usually joking but I wanted to make a point #batfam #batman #dc

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buckrecs · 2 years ago

Note

Hello! Do you perhaps have recommendations for Alpha!bucky?

Alpha!Bucky

masterlist | req masterlist

ONESHOT

Crave by @harrylovex

you realise that you can’t survive your heat without bucky.

intensional by @noctumbra

alpha!bucky sends you a shirtless pic and then offers to spend your heat with him. feelings ensue.

scent by @noctumbra

“you’re one eager and hungry kitten,” bucky whispered in your ear as he licked over your scent gland, where his bite situated perfectly.

vanilla by @noctumbra

his scent was the other thing that made you go stupid other than his eyes: leather, a bit of vanilla, oranges and wet wood.

wet by @noctumbra

your mating sessions are always intense with bucky.

butterfly by @idy-ll-ique

bucky's going into rut. y/n volunteers to help him. feelings come out.

Let Me Love You by @slothspaghettiwrites

When an Omega is feeling very anxious or nervous their Alpha will hold them close while gently crooning and scenting them until they calm down.

Dating apps are stupid by @buckylattes

You decide to download this dating app, well….Natasha persuades you into it. You make a profile and agree to just have it for a week. If nothing becomes of it then you can delete it. But….you swipe right on this handsome man who’s description shows him out to be a gentleman like you’re looking for. So…what happens when he matches with you???

make you mine by @bonky-n-steeb

Bucky keeps his distance from you thinking you can do better than him. but he loses all his restraints when he sees you with another alpha.

to love is to burn by @bonky-n-steeb

You go into heat at the worst moment in the history of time, maybe ever.

took one hit and I was gone by @bonky-n-steeb

after the rise of hydra, your entire life turned into a living nightmare. you lost everything you held precious, your job, your house, your degree, even hope. but then you’re assigned as a mate to him, your enemy and your only ray of hope, James Buchanan Barnes.

little red riding hood by @bonky-n-steeb

your big bad alpha chases you across the woods.

Break Lights by @boxofbonesfic

his omega by @bucksfucks

bucky helps you through an expected heat.

ever since by @syntheticavenger

Bucky Barnes finds his center in a late night subway ride.

By Chance by @green-eyeddragonfanfiction

Female!Reader is an Omega. Alphas and Omegas are rare, and Reader’s been able to avoid alphas through sheer force of will and luck in equal parts.

Feral by @bucknastysbabe

And You’re Mine by @winterarmyy

In which Bucky, the big, scary, 'undesired alpha' was tricked into a blind date where he met his precious little omega.

Protector by @rookthorne

After an eternity of being held against your will, and just as long having been forced to watch your alpha suffer at the hands of the wicked, an opportunity arose. An opportunity so rare, so unique, that it would never be offered again. It was time to escape, and it was time to bathe the halls in their blood – never again would you be held by the bars of a cell, not if he could stop it.

SERIES

Heart and Soul by @all1e23

Alphas only brought trouble. The only thing they are good for is bringing their Omega’s pain and forced submission. They were dangerous, reckless and cruel. There wasn’t an ounce of kindness in any of them. She didn’t need an Alpha, and she certainly didn’t believe in that True Mates fairytale. That was just some fabricated fable Alphas made up to trick innocent doe-eyed Omegas. She wasn’t going to fall for that. Not again.No Alpha would ever get her to believe that love truly exists. And then, James Buchanan Barnes walked into her life.

Better Like This by @simsadventures

You are the newest addition to New York’s elite team of Detectives concentrating on domestic violence and rape, which everyone calls the Avengers. You are an Omega, very bubbly and open to everyone around you, and everyone is super sweet to you, except one person- Bucky, your true mate. Will you be able to destroy the walls he has been building around his heart for years, or will he reject you and break your heart forever?

Some Alpha by @ofstarsandvibranium

Bucky is an Alpha, but can never seem to find someone who wants him to be their Alpha. Until he finds you, a Beta, who’s as firey as an Alpha, yet also tender-hearted like an Omega.

Heal by @chucksfavouriteprophet

For months you managed to distance yourself from Bucky Barnes, the alpha you long for. But one night you have no choice but to comfort him, something which brings out emotions in both of you. Except it also brings out emotions in the Winter Solider, which results in a devastating turn of events that neither of you might be able to come back from.

All The King’s Men by @nastybuckybarnes

Your father always said that if it weren’t for your presentation, he’d think you were an Alpha. There’s a reason for that. Growing up in a world where Omegas are treated like garbage, you’ve fought for the respect that you have. Until you’re sold off to an old King desperate for a bride. But you will not lay down and present for your new husband. No, you will fight back.

Mr. Grumpy by @holylulusworld

Bucky hates omegas. You change his mind.

knife play by @helvonasche

They're on the run and Bucky goes into rut.

Knight In Rusty Armor by @revengingbarnes

For the sake of politics and to get rid of you, their omega daughter, the King and Queen of England marry you off to the King of France. Settling into an unfamiliar monarchy is a tedious process all by itself, but a new problem arises soon after your arrival at your new home.One of the Knights turns out to be your true mate. Your Alpha. The one you are meant to be with. But you’re mated to someone else. And that someone else is the King of France.

Masterlist by @angrythingstarlight

Masterlist by @holylulusworld

#bucky barnes fic rec #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes smut #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes series #alpha!bucky #alpha!bucky x omega!reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #dbf!bucky #king!bucky #bucky barnes royal au #king!bucky x princess!reader #chubby!bucky #soft!bucky

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dreamingofaizawa · 2 months ago

Text

Run, Rabbit

Yan! Sosuke Aizen x Fem! Shinigami! Reader

***DDDNE - This is an 18+ fic, if you are not 18 years or older please go tf away thanks***

Warnings: Primal play(I think?), hunter/prey dynamics, noncon, mindbreak(?), dubcon, yandere Aizen, penetrative sex (p in v), edging, slight overstimulation, pussy slapping, choking, breathplay, manipulative Aizen (duh this bitch was always a manipulative bastard), a bit of thigh fucking, fingering, creampie. (I hope that's everthing o.O)

Word Count: 3.3k

Author's Note: Ohhhkayy so this just popped into my head. I don't know where this even came from but holy shit. If ya'll don't pay attention to these warnings imma come slap you in the face istg this ain't no fluff piece.

Enjoy?

This was your chance. Maybe your only chance. The door to the cell you were meant to call a room was left cracked, the fraccion that was assigned to check on you hadn’t quite closed the door shut tight enough, and the latch didn’t quite click into place. Which meant you could open it from the inside. Which meant this may be your one and only opportunity to escape Las Noches and get far from Aizen’s reach. It really didn’t matter that you could die out there to a hollow, anything was better than being trapped here at Aizen’s mercy, his plaything while his plans had a lull and he was biding his time. Your body shakes, heart pounding in your chest at the thrill of it all, the thought of getting away.

He brought you here when he’d defected, stolen you away from the Gotei 13. You were supposed to be in the squad 5 barracks, defending the Seireitei and the world of the living with the rest of your squad members and the other squads. Hell, you didn’t even know Aizen all that well, hadn’t spoken to him directly ever. What made him take you, you have no idea. But you’re here, and now is your chance to leave.

You try your best to keep your footsteps silent, creeping up to the door, slowly tugging it open. Your hand actually begins to tremble when it actually gives way, the light from the hallway pouring in through the widening gap. You’re so close…but you can’t get complacent. You still need to escape the palace. Peering out into the hallway skyrockets your blood pressure, but when there’s nobody around and no sounds coming from further down the hall, you slip right out and shut the door closed behind you, making sure it’s actually latched. Hopefully that would keep any suspicion away for a while, and you take careful consideration in hiding your spiritual pressure as best you can. Making your way through the palace is a long and confusing task, all of the hallways are identical and there’s no markings of any kind. All you have to go on is direction, but as long as the windows along the hall remain facing the moon, you should be able to get out one way or another.

Most of it is empty, which feels odd, but you push it to the back of your mind and thank whatever god was watching out for you. It’s when you find your way to a bridge that you feel anxious. If anyone were to spot you, this is where it would be. The bridge is out in the open air, the railings impossible to hide behind, and unless an observer was directly beneath you you’d have nowhere to hide. There’s no use trying to find another way, but a flash step could get you across unseen. It’s not like you can go back after coming this far. The one good thing is that it would seem this bridge goes all the way across to the outer wall, which means if you needed to, you could just blast your way through with a kido spell and flash step away into the endless desert. With a long, heavy, deep breath you steady your nerves and flash step across the bridge. There’s nobody that you can see, but that’s good. It takes about five seconds to get all the way across, even with a flash step, but you make it to the building on the other side.

The building seems small, a single staircase in the back leading down into what seems like an endless darkness. Your salvation. You’re so close to being out, but you need to hurry, you have no idea when someone might notice your absence, so with no further hesitation you sprint down into the darkness. The hallways here are different, less like the stark white monochrome of the palace, more like carved tunnels. The only other difference is that there are no windows here. This is where you’d get lost, and die, but you were ready for that part. You use the heavy spiritual pressure of all the espada that are still in the main building of Las Noches to keep you oriented. How you’d managed to escape without a single arrancar noticing, you have no idea, they were all still in the building just not where you were. Hopefully that meant they were in a meeting of some kind.

Regardless, you keep moving. You aren’t expecting to get out, but when you make it outside you think you could collapse from the sheer elation. You’re out. But now all that’s left is to get to the Menos Forest. It’s better to hide out there. You run out into the desert, searching for a crack in the earth. It isn’t hard to find one, and you dive into the darkness below. You’re shaking, the joy of escaping finally getting to you. You almost laugh as you leap through the trees, freedom making you feel light.

“You’re a little slower than you used to be.” You freeze on a branch, heart stopping in your chest, a deep fear settling in the pit of your stomach. No. No it can’t be him. Frantically, you spin, searching for the source of that damned voice. The voice of your nightmares. Nothing. Emptiness. You can’t even feel any spiritual pressure. Were you just hearing things? No, you need to run, you need to run now. You take off into a flash step, diving further down so you’re nearing the forest floor. The darkness would help conceal your position. You’re panting and sweating and your body hurts, not having run like this in a very long time, being cooped up in that cell. But you need to escape, no matter what.

“Keep running, little rabbit.” Shit. You glance over your shoulder, just in time to see a flash of white. No, he can’t be here. A branch snaps off to your left, it spooks you enough to have you veer off to the right and avoid the area. Another branch snaps behind you, and another on your right. A chill crawls up your spine when that evil, dark chuckle rings through the forest.

“Hop along, while you still can.” He’s taunting you. You gasp as the branch you step on breaks under your foot, plummeting you to the forest floor. Barely, you manage to tuck and roll and land on your feet, but your momentum is shot.

“Aw, poor rabbit. You’re done running already?” You snap your head around behind you, seeing a flash of white fabric vanish behind a tree. Immediately you take off in the opposite direction. You’re not giving up yet, if you can lose him in the brush you have a chance.

“There you go, run some more.” You catch more glimpses of white on your right, and turn on a dime. Again to your left, and again directly in front of you, and you turn tail only to see another right where you’d just come from. You stop completely, panting hard as your lungs burn. That pit of dread has settled deep in your soul, and it’s taken you far too long to realize he’s been hunting you. Like a wolf herding its prey.

“Already done running?” You whip around to see where he is, only to come up empty. You spin around what feels like a hundred times, listening to his evil laugh as it echoes through the trees. Your hands are shaking, your heart slamming against your ribcage, tears beginning to form in your eyes as your chest heaves. This can’t be happening. You were supposed to be free of him. Suddenly, in a split second, he’s in front of you, both wrists gathered in one of his enormous hands.

“What a pretty little rabbit. Too bad you couldn’t run any further, I was having fun chasing you down.” That dread has spread to your entire body, your hope dashed. You were supposed to be far away by now. You were going to escape him. The realization that you were never going to make it hits you like a zanpakuto through the heart, making you lax in his hold as you drop to your knees in front of him. The despair, the sadness, the fear. It all makes your body collapse. He follows you to the floor, crouching down and cupping your chin in his free hand, leaning in close and pressing a kiss to your lips that you don’t return. The gesture is too sweet, too gentle, for a cruel man like him. He licks his lips, tasting the salt from your tears.

“Look at you, so submissive and pliant. So unlike your usual self. Have I finally broken you?” Your vision is unfocused, all the fight having fled your body, your head spinning uncontrollably. Part of you prayed you were dead, part of you hoped this was a nightmare. Aizen’s voice slices through your consciousness.

“Look at me, rabbit.” You don’t know how you do it, but you do look right at him. Those dark eyes pierce through your soul, his eerie smirk making you tremble.

“Very good. This was fun, but it’s time for you to come home now.” You can’t find the energy to do anything but nod, acceptance consuming you. There’s no escape, not from him, not here. You’ll never get away. Your surroundings blur as Aizen picks you up and flash steps to Las Noches, a flash step so fast it only takes a few seconds to get all the way back to the palace. But you aren’t in your room anymore, no you’re in his. He lays you down on the plush bed, more than large enough to fit four of him, and his hands begin to tug at your clothing, but he pauses. He’s waiting for it, for the fight that usually comes. For the clawing and kicking and cursing. When all you do is turn your head away and tremble he reaches up and wraps a hand around your neck. The squeeze is what makes your eyes pop open, frantically looking up at his face, a small panic flooding your mind. He’s never done this before, was he going to kill you?

“I want you to look at me. I want to watch as you come undone, all because of me.” Tears form once again, falling silently down your cheeks. No, this was much worse than death.

“You look so pretty when you cry for me. Cry some more.” The hand on your throat squeezes again, your hands clawing at his as you gasp for air. You squirm beneath him, legs kicking weakly as he resumes his quest to undress you with one hand. Your clothing is torn off of you, your heaving chest exposed as he kneads one breast in his hand, your nipple pinched roughly between two fingers. You do exactly what he wants, tears streaming down your cheeks and neck while he gropes you. You hate the way your body reacts, a nasty heat pooling between your legs as your vision begins to blur. You’re granted relief then, his hand releasing your airway and you greedily gulp in much needed air.

“Good girl. So good for me, aren’t you?” His hands make themselves busy with the rest of your tattered clothing, whatever was left shredded and tossed aside and he lets his eyes drag over your naked body. It’s the first time he’s been able to really look at you like this, any time before was spent holding you down to keep you from fighting him. You just can’t find the will anymore. One hand reaches down between your thighs and the sheer embarrassment makes you clamp them shut, but it’s no use, his other hand comes to pry your legs open and he kneels between them to keep it that way, exposing you completely. He hums, dragging a finger through the wetness already leaking from your pussy.

“Your body always knew to be ready for me, it just took a little push for your mind to catch up.” Two of his fingers are plunged into you, your back arching at the immediate curl and pump of the digits. Loud squelches ring in the room, the embarrassing sounds only seem to make that heat in your stomach grow. He doesn’t waste any time, letting a third finger slip inside you and using his thumb to rub circles into your already swollen clit. You shut your eyes and cover your face, you don’t want to see the satisfaction on his face when you cum all over his fingers. Your legs shake at your slowly approaching orgasm, toes curling and legs clamping down around Aizen’s hips. You’re so close, and you hate how badly the knot in your belly wants to snap, just a little more…

You whimper when he stops moving completely, ripping his hand away from your sloppy pussy. He’s stolen your orgasm from you, your legs still trembling and his clean hand grabs your throat again.

“I said I wanted you to look at me.” When he releases you he retreats fully, stripping down to nothing. His cock is hard between his legs, long and thick and you can already feel the soreness begin to settle in. He slots his hips between your legs again, resting that thick cock right against your clit.

“Now, let’s try this again, shall we?” You don’t bother trying to answer, he’s going to do whatever he wants regardless. You’re proven right when he drags that dick of his over your wet folds, using it to stimulate your clit. It’s not enough to build your orgasm, and you’re thankful for it at least, until he grabs your legs and puts both over one shoulder, clamping your thighs shut around his length. His hips slap into the backs of your thighs, the head of his cock catching on your clit and suddenly you’re jolting with every thrust, the pressure making you leak even more onto the bed sheets. He’s left your cunt completely empty, just the stimulation on your clit making that knot tighten once again. But you won’t give him the satisfaction, even if you won’t fight him. Your eyes squeeze shut as you try to stave off your orgasm, focusing on anything to get your mind off of it. But when he slips his dick inside you and slams his hips into you, your vision goes white behind your eyelids and all you can think about is the fullness you feel. His fingers dance on your clit again, and you’re just about to fall over that edge when he pulls out completely and leaves your clit throbbing. You actually cry out this time, desperation seeping into you. You hate it.

He only chuckles down at you, pushing into your sloppy cunt once again setting a slow, deep pace. Every time he seats himself fully inside you, your eyes roll back into your skull at the pleasure. You sob when he folds your legs toward your chest, letting his weight power each thrust, hitting that little spongy spot with unmatched precision. It’s too much, the pleasure building too quickly. You need to cum, or you’ll lose your mind you’re sure. You focus all your attention on Aizen, his face concentrated but still relaxed, his smirk replaced with his lips parted ever so slightly, heavy breaths escaping as his brows pinch just the tiniest bit, The strands over his face have dampened ever so slightly, sweat beading on his forehead. In your lust filled daze, you dare to think he looks handsome like this. His eyes pierce yours, his pace picking up, filling the room with the sound of wet skin against skin. You’re at the edge again, the muscles in your legs trembling under his fingers and your own hands claw into the bed. You don’t dare look away, if this gives you the release you need you’ll stare at him as long as he wants. Almost there, you’re so close and your eyes are still locked on his.

He pulls out completely, and you cry out at the frustration. You did what he wanted! You were looking right at him.

“No, no don’t do this please I need it.” His hand is at your throat in an instant, squeezing down around it to cut off your airflow again. You’re shaking, both hands gripping his wrist in a poor attempt to get him off.

“I like it when you beg, pretty rabbit.” In one fluid motion his cock is deep inside you, his other arm wrapped around your legs thrown over one shoulder and he leans over you, folding you almost completely in half as he grinds his dick into your poor pussy. He thrusts into you hard and fast, and it’s all you can do to weakly cry out beneath the pressure of his hand as your vision blanks and you cum on his cock, your walls clamping down around him and your entire body trembling with the euphoria. Your eyes roll back in your head as he allows you to breathe again, your orgasm drawn out while he pounds into you with his full weight, stilling once he’s satisfied and unloading deep in your cunt. Chest heaving, body shaking, you’re exhausted. You can’t register what he’s saying to you until he grabs your face in one hand and squeezes hard enough to make you wince.

“Focus, there you go. Now what do you say when someone gives you something you want?” In your scattered brain, you can’t come up with the answer, so he decides he needs to motivate you. He pulls out of you and you hiss from the sensitivity, but that doesn’t compare to the sting you feel when he spreads your legs and lays a hard smack on your pussy. It makes you jump and yelp, trying to squirm away but his grip on your thigh is iron clad.

“Try again, pretty thing.” You still can’t think, every thought is tangled like a loose ball of yarn. Another slap makes your body jolt, and he twirls a finger over your clit slowly.

“You’re supposed to say ‘thank you’.” Shakily, you nod.

“Thank you, Lord Aizen.” His head tilts to the side, and he lands a harder slap on your poor, abused pussy, catching your clit this time and making you cry out, and he resumes his slow pace on the little bundle of nerves.

“And what are you thanking me for?” You’re trembling, your voice unsteady.

“Th-thank you for letting me cum, Lord Aizen.” His pace on your clit picks up, and you can’t stop yourself from cumming again, tears streaming down your face as your back arches painfully off the bed. He doesn’t let up until you’re squirming away from his fingers, lightly tapping on your clit to make you jump. You know what he wants, whispering the words between heavy breaths.

“Thank you…thank you Lord Aizen…for making me cum.” His laugh is mean and dark, and he moves so he’s beside you on the bed, lying on his side and propping himself up on one arm. He kisses you, deep and slow, and you let your jaw drop and his tongue invades your mouth. His free hand grips your throat again, no pressure, just the threat of it lying there. It’s dominating. You can’t find it in your muddled mind to care. When he’s done claiming you, he leans away and your unfocused eyes can just barely register his expectant gaze.

“Thank you for making me feel good.” You whisper, body still trembling.

“You’re mine.” He waits a beat, gently tightens his grip on your throat and releases.

“I’m yours.” You breathe, your eyes only focused on him. All on him. You belong to him. He smirks, satisfied, and he tugs your body so you’re laying on top of him, head tucked into his neck and breathing in his scent. There was a part of you that protested, but you can’t hear it anymore.

#bleach smut #bleach x reader #sosuke aizen #aizen sosuke x reader #aizen sosuke smut #sosuke aizen x reader #aizen sosuke #aizen smut #bleach aizen

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moon1833 · 7 months ago

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Arrogance

Warning: smut, female reader, enemies to friends to lovers kinda, hate-fucking, semi-public sex, reader is wearing a skirt, Tsukishima is a bottom and I will die on this hill, female reader, College!Tsukishima

He was mean. Agonizingly rude and arrogant. And to you, you saw that as a competition. You wouldn't call yourself mean, but you defiantly didn't let any of his bullshit slide. You made that abundantly clear at your first meeting. You had know of the blonde boy in your class since you started Karasuno College, but luckily avoided him up until the end of your first year.

"Watch where you're going, shorty. Some of the grownups need to get through." He smirked, barely looking at you as he knocked into you.

He half expected to hear a remark from your pretty mouth, or maybe you'd just roll your eyes and walk away. What he didn't expect, was for you to grab his bicep and shove him into the wall with most of your strength. You weren't trying to hurt him, but you knew it would take a lot to move the third year middle blocker. You were in a bitter mood.

"I'd watch your mouth if I were you." You watch him stumble back slightly, eyes wide with shock. His lips part to speak, but you don't wait for him to respond, turning towards your next class.

Tsukishima had never been spoken to like that by a complete stranger. He supposed it was warranted, he wasn't oblivious to how rude he was to others. He just didn't think he'd be able to invoke that reaction from you of all people.

From then on, he made sure to glare at you whenever he got the chance, which happened to be often since you were now in the same class. Tsukishima made it his mission to pester you, and every single time, you put him in his place.

It started an odd relationship between the two of you. Neither of you would call each other friends, but you'd both be lying if you said you didn't seek out the other one, even if it was just to argue.

You sat in class one morning, the seat of the desk uncomfortable as you watched the teacher hand out the graded exams from last week. You didn't need to turn your head to see Tsukishima's eyes narrowed onto you, bouncing his leg with anticipation.

Your teacher places the exam face down on your desk, and you flip it over swiftly, trying not to look too eager. You smirk as your eyes trail to the boy in the row next to you, turning the paper to him so he could read the 100 marked proudly in the right corner of the paper.

You watch his gaze darken, scowling as he turns away from you. You fake coo at his actions, watching his left hand grip the desk until his knuckles turned white.

The teacher handed back Tsukishima's exam last, and you tried to peer at his score to no avail. The teacher dismissed the class soon after, and you found yourself chasing after the blonde, curious to see just how many points you beat him by.

"Don't get shy on me now." You say cockily, standing next to his desk and peering down on him.

He glares back up at you, a tinge of embarrassment obvious due to his reddening ears. Even if this was the only expression you ever saw him give you, it satisfied a part of you.

Neither of you notice the rest of the class leave, as well as the teacher.

"How'd you manage cheat this time?" Tsukishima asks, but even he knows it's a weak cover-up.

"Aw, that was almost a retort." You smile.

"Being around idiots lowers my brain cells." He rolls his eyes, trying to slide his exam into his backpack without you seeing the score.

Quickly, you snatch the paper from him, turning around so he can't grab it. Tsukishima lunges, reaching around you, caging you with his arms and pressing your hips against the side of the desk.

You try to relish in the fact that he got a 96, but you can't when he's pressed against you so closely you can feel his breath on your neck.

Caught by surprise, a small sound escapes from your lips, suddenly very loud in the empty room.

Tsukishima stops, unsure if he really just heard the small moan you made or if he was starting to confuse his daydreams with real life. But, one of his hands holding yours behind your back as the other grasped the paper on the desk in front of you was very, very real.

"Oh?" Tsukishima questions, his grip on your wrists tightening slightly.

When you don't make any efforts to move away, Tsukishima peers his head down by your ear, his lips grazing your skin as he whispers.

"Don't tell me you like this, y/n."

You snap back, pushing him off of you and turning around. You put your hands on his chest, shoving him back while keeping your fists tight around the material of his shirt.

His glasses are crooked slightly, and he stares at you with a hunger in his eyes. And then it hits you.

"Don't tell me you like it when I put you in your place, Tsukishima." Your hands reach higher, now gripping his collar.

You watch the blush creep up Tsukishima's neck, grinning. You're barely inches away, and he takes a step back in an attempt to catch his breath. His legs hit the front of a chair and you're climbing onto his lap before he's even fully sat down.

His hands fly to your waist instantly, steadying you on his thighs. You take his glasses off before trailing your fingers over the curve of his lips, leaning in slowly.

Your lips just graze his, but Tsukishima grasps the back of your head, greedily kissing you. You respond by kissing him back harder, parting your lips and pressing your body even further into him.

You don't miss how he lets out the smallest of whimpers at you grounding your hips against him, feeling him under you. You grin, grinding back and forth to pull more noises from him.

"I'm going to lose control if you keep doing that." Tsukishima admits, sounding short of breath.

"You haven't had an ounce of control since you walked into this classroom." You sneer, kissing down his jaw roughly. "You can stop pretending to fight me."

Tsukishima tilts his head back, hitting the wall softly as he started breathing deeply, feeling as though he could cum from your words alone. It was embarrassing the effect you had on him.

You reach a certain spot on his neck, causing Tsukishima to jerk his. hips up slightly as he sighs.

You wanted to toy with him for as long as you could, but you knew you had limited time. Hurriedly, you tugged at his belt, palming at his dick through his pants.

Tsukishima adjusted himself, unzipping his pants and trailing a hand up your thigh. You lifted your hips up, giving him room as you continued to leave hickies down his collar bone.

His hand was now under your skirt, delicately gripping your waist. The other was rubbing his tip, watching you eye his cock. Wordlessly, you pulled your panties to the side, sinking down on him.

You knew it was going to hurt with no prep and his size, but you didn't want to give him that satisfaction. You eased down on him, bitting your lip as you bottomed out. Tsukishima buried his head into your shoulder, letting out a moan.

You wrapped your fingers around his hair, tugging him back and forcing him to look at you. Your hand trailed to his throat, tightening slightly but not choking him.

"Be quiet." You whisper, looking at him sharply. Tsukishima's looking up at you with half lidded eyes, his mouth parted. He's on the verge of bliss and he's not hiding it anymore.

After sinking down fully, you crossed your arms, shifting your hips to get used to the feeling. He bucks his hips up, desperate for more.

"Pathetic." You say, moving your hips up and down slowly. His long fingers are digging into your hips, and his eyes are pleading with you.

"If you want something you're going to need to ask for it." You tease.

"Please," Tsukishima has lost all dignity, feeling so pussydrunk he thinks he'd kill to be inside you for a minute more. "need you to use me."

You grab his jaw, peppering kisses on his cheek as you speed your hips up, whispering encouragement in his ear.

Tsukishima let all control slip away from him as his orgasm built, holding you closer by the small of your back. His big hands wrapped around your waist and you let him attempt to muffle his sounds in the crook of your neck.

He was trying his best to hold off his orgasm, but between your tits nearly bouncing out of your shirt and the degrading words slipping from your kiss-bitten mouth, he didn't last very long.

A few minutes later you were viciously riding out his orgasm, but pink in the face and suddenly hit with the realization of what you just did.

Panic hit you momentarily, until Tsukishima kissed the top of your head, mumbling a “I’m never going to win an argument against you ever again.”

“No, I don’t think so.” You say. “Unless you want to end up like this again.”

“I wasn’t going to stop either way, but I appreciate the encouragement.”

#tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu tsukishima #haikyuu #haikyuu smut #smut #jjk smut #tsukishima fluff

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impyssadobsessions · 3 months ago

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DPXDC PROMPT Vlad Hired the Wrong Guy

Vlad decides that perhaps a ghost can't do the job right anymore -though as much as Vlad would have loved that to be the fitting end for Jack- so he hires an assassin instead to finally put the end to this.

He hires the best. Deathstroke.

Slade however decided to take a liking to the little hero. So when Slade succeeds in his mission (or not if you want to pull some plot shenanigans) he ends up taking away something far more valuable to Vlad.

Danny. Now Imma put my thoughts below but y'all can take this anyway you want >w< <3

I can see Vlad giving Deathstroke weapons to fight/capture Danny too- not kill him though he probably can't even imagine that would be possible- with order to strictly kill Jack and maybe make it look like Phantom did it. (For some extra spice ;3) Phantom was able to fool some of Slade's attempts- but in an all out brawl- Slade wipes the floor with Danny. Danny being slung around like a rag doll, taunted, and mocked. He doesn't stop fighting which just amuses Slade more. Eventually there first fight gets interrupted (cause I imagine it was in the lab) probably be Jack and Maddie coming into the basement- but Deathstroke was able to hit Danny with the belt- forcing him to change before vanishing himself. So Danny gets "grounded" from the lab- even though he tried to play it off as a ghost attack- which made it either worse or better for him. His parents going protective mode- when he's trying to figure out how to save them. Only for Deathstroke to be in his room one day, looking for a "chat". Danny's not having it and tries to fight him only to be captured by one of Vlad's devices. Danny recognizing it. "You-You're working for Vlad!" "Oh ho ho, So you do have some brain cells that isn't used just for puns?" "Why!?" "Money. And a few unique toys." Slade tossing an ecto-ray in his hands. "I'm an assassin. I had assume you didn't need to be detective to figure that one out." Danny struggling against his bindings. Panicking. "You can't- Vlad-..." "Oh I definitely can. He is not the hardest target I had to hit- though I must admit you're an annoying obstacle." "I won't let you!" "I don't think you're in a position to stop me." Slade pressing a button to shock Danny before he a new power to escape. The shock forcing him to revert to his Human form. Imagine Deathstroke taunts Danny more. About what he is- about his parents hatred of ghosts. "Even if you save them- they would hate you. Shame." "You're not the first fruitloop to tell me that." Can see after Danny impresses him one more time- and Slade finds out Vlad is also a half ghost. I can imagine Slade finds a way to force Danny to join him. Whether its by succeeding in killing his dad and manipulating Danny into learning out to take revenge- Or by blackmailing/threatening to follow through but not just kill Jack/ but both his parents- saying he'll teach him how to REALLY fight. Even saying that with his help, he'll make sure Masters won't bother him again. Just all the manipulating. Danny at wits end might take it. Can see Vlad being FURIOUS- but now Deathstroke has weapons to not only HARM/KILL him-he ALSO becomes Danny's mentor. Vlad being the one to contact heroes he knows have history with Deathstroke... framing it as him taking away his godson. Maybe purposely sought out Nightwing. Unknowingly damning himself more as Nightwing will find out Vlad was the cause to all this- AND if Danny gets rescued/gets out of his deal- he'll have hero friends to rely on.

I just love the idea of Slade and Danny dynamic. Especially since Danny not only similar to Dick, his phantom form also looks similar to Respawn. I just think its neat XD And be a damn terrifying threat to Danny.

#danny fenton #danny phantom #dp x dc #dpxdc #slade wilson #deathstoke #dcxdp #dpxdc prompt #dc crossover #dp crossover #prompt #vlad masters #nightwing #dcu

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azrielbrainrot · 7 months ago

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I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You - Part 6

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Description: Getting answers out of Norris has proven quite challenging. Your disagreement with Azriel is weighting on you more than you thought it would.

Warnings: Violence, Torture, Gore

Word Count: 5550

Notes: This took me a bit longer to write than I anticipated but I wanted to make sure not to forget any details. Hope you enjoy!

Part 5 ○ Part 7

The sun was already shining high in the sky when you finally stepped out of the dungeon. Feyre had arrived with Cassian and Amren a few minutes earlier, ordering her mate, you and Azriel to go and get some rest while they took over for a few hours. Rhysand could only use his daemati powers for so long and the strain was starting to become visible on his face, so she likely could feel his fatigue through their mating bond. His efforts were starting to be in vain anyway, you needed to wear Norris down a lot more physically before his mental walls would start giving in.

You didn't want to leave at first, completely unwilling to take your eyes off Norris for even a second, but both you and Azriel had been forced to go take a bath and eat something, maybe even get some sleep and only come back later in the day. Logically this made perfect sense, but you'd rather stay with him until he told you everything you wanted to know. You believe them all to be more than capable of handling this but you also know Norris, if anyone could find a way to escape from the Night Court's dungeons it would be him.

Still, you knew it was going to take a lot longer than a few hours to crack Norris so you needed to keep your strength, you wouldn't be any help at all if you exhausted yourself. Apparently the same wards around your memories were also present in Norris' mind, meaning Rhysand was only able to knock him out in the forest but not read through his thoughts, the same way he wasn't able to reach your memories before. This meant he was the one in control of said wards, both his and yours. Amren was quick to explain that since they had been done with the help of a witch's tool, he had to have it with him to keep up his wards since it wasn't his own magic that was keeping them in place.

It also explains why he risked becoming your handler even though letting you know him could lead to this exact outcome. He needed to strengthen your wards every once in a while to make sure no memory slipped through them. Unfortunately, even without his checkups the wards were strong enough that simply time wouldn't give your memories back in full, at best only letting you see some fragments. There was also no way of knowing what they could do to your mind when left unattended so your only option was to keep pushing him until he told you everything you needed to know.

The tool he used couldn't be far, he either had it on his person or hid it somewhere close before meeting you in the forest. You've searched through his belongings more than once, as did everyone present in the cell, including Azriel's shadows, but came up empty. He likely had a powerful glamour cast on it, one you had to make him break. Getting your hands on that tool meant you could break both the wards around his mind, which would grant Rhysand access to any and every piece of information he wanted, and the wards keeping your memories hidden inside you. One simple object could set you free.

Azriel winnowed you to the middle of the mountains surrounding Velaris, right behind the House of Wind, making sure no one in the city could see your bodies drenched in blood but unable to winnow you straight home. Having a house protected by wards that didn't allow for any winnowing, even by its inhabitants, was really good in theory, you've never seen a safer place really, but in practice having to fly up every time was more than annoying, especially when you don't have wings of your own.

The air was strangely awkward around the two of you since you hadn't spoken a word to each other after the short argument in the forest. Most of your annoyance had worn off at this point, got redirected at your smug handler chained up in the dungeon, but you still wanted him to be the one to come to you and explain himself. His attitude earlier had seemed completely different from everything you'd experienced until then, you know there's a reason for it but you're too prideful to ask him about it.

The only plausible reason you could think of is that he's been using you to get to an assassin with a higher up position in the guild, but something told you immediately that wasn't the case, it seems like a part of you balked at the thought that he'd betray you like this. Even putting your annoying phantom feelings aside, it didn't make sense considering the High Lord has followed his word on letting you help in interrogating Norris. Your mind was fresh out of ideas, and much too tired to analyze that small argument. He'll tell you what happened eventually, and if he doesn't… Well, then it's a good thing you didn't get your hopes up even more.

“I'll fly you up to the House,” his voice was scratchy from not being used in so long, making it deeper as he almost whispered beside you, not wanting to disturb the quietness in the mountain. Azriel had done most of the cutting and breaking but he hadn't even asked Norris any questions, content in letting you and Rhysand take over the interrogation while he carved out Norris' skin. You can't be sure if it was because of your fight or just the grueling last few hours but he didn't seem to be in the best mood anyway.

You nod up at him, simply walking closer and letting him pick you up into his warm embrace, strong hands careful as they handle your body. You've only flown once - from what you can remember at least, you can't imagine a version of yourself who wouldn't ask her husband to take her flying regularly if he had wings - and, given the circumstances, you didn't really have the chance to stop and truly enjoy the moment. It would be the same now, even worse given the fact that you'd rather not deal with the shadowsinger, but the breeze hitting against your tired body sounded heavenly, and so did the big bathtub and soft mattress waiting for you up in your room. There was also no energy left in your body to even try to argue with him, if there was you would have been using it on your handler.

His body relaxes slightly when you simply slip your arms around his neck, his wings stretching and flapping a couple of times as he got ready to take flight. He looked like he was expecting you to refuse, as if there was any other way to the House besides flying and he wasn't the only Illyrian here.

The actual flight doesn't take long, within a few moments Azriel is gently setting you down back on your feet at the top of the stairs, hands lingering on your body as if moving on their own, a habit he can't quite break himself out of. You meet his eyes, briefly wondering if you should say something, debating if you have enough patience in yourself to extend a small olive branch to the male who is covered in the blood of your enemy.

He beats you to it, looking down before speaking as if he couldn't hold your gaze for top long - yet another way he's acting out of character. “You're free to do what you want. I'll meet you in your room and fly you back to the dungeon when it's time. I won't bother you before that.” The professional, detached tone in his voice makes your annoyance want to rise up but you swallow it down, realizing how tired you really were as soon as you had stepped foot inside the house.

“Alright,” you tell him before turning around and walking straight to your room, never looking back to see his reaction or the way regret flashes in his eyes as he watches your every step away from him.

Azriel stayed true to his word, only coming to check in on you right before it was time to return. You can't even be sure if he stayed in his room the whole time, if he truly spent these few hours resting as he was ordered since there was no sound coming from his room or around the house at all. Curiosity had gotten the best of you a couple of hours ago, when you woke up from your nap feeling strangely alone, like a piece of you was begging to go find him. This feeling was clutching at your heart for long enough that you actually considered going to find Azriel, but held on since you didn't fully know your way around the house and you had no idea where he could be. You didn't really know what to say either.

Luckily it wasn't long until you heard his footsteps getting closer to your room before a soft knock sounded at the door. He always does this, makes sure to let himself be heard before knocking. Sitting up at the edge of the mattress, you call out to him, wondering if he'll tell you anything now or simply fly you back to the cells.

As soon as his form comes into view you can tell he hasn't slept much if anything at all, dark circles prominent under his eyes. He's at least taken a bath, the sullied leathers were now replaced with new ones, the stench of blood not clinging to him anymore. You're wearing some yourself, your old ones as you've been told. Your clothes were ruined and putting them back on would defeat the purpose of the bath you took earlier, but it feels weird to wear a version of what you always see Azriel and his family in. He takes notice of this as well, hazel eyes raking over your form, lingering around your waist long enough for you to start feeling self conscious, standing up and taking a step closer to him almost involuntarily.

“Is anything wrong? I thought you left them for me to wear.” Since he had given you the leathers along with your old belongings you had assumed you were allowed to wear them, but, at this point, these clothes were more his than yours. Maybe he was scared you'd ruin them and he'd lose his memories of you.

“No, that's not it. They're yours,” he assures quickly, eyes widening slightly before a conflicted expression takes over his face. “The buckles are done wrong,” his observation makes you look down at yourself, there were more straps and buckles than necessary for any piece of garment and you'd taken a bit longer to figure it out than you cared to admit, apparently you should have taken even longer.

Your fingers reach for the straps around your waist, tugging at the leather before he continues, “I can help you with them. They can be hard to put on if you're not used to it.” When you look up from the confusing clothes and your eyes move to meet his, you find him watching your hands hesitantly, his own flexing at his sides. You end up agreeing without even thinking it through, something you almost regret when he walks closer to you and suddenly all you can see and smell is Azriel.

He looks into your eyes before reaching out to the buckles around your waist slowly, giving you a chance to push him away, almost expecting you to. You drop your hands at your sides awkwardly, not knowing what to do with them or yourself when he starts working on your leathers. Expert fingers undo the buckle before pulling on the straps, unexpectedly tightening your armor in the process which pulls a startled gasp out of you. His hands move to grab your waist, surprised by your reaction. Wide hazel eyes meet yours at the sound, a heat spreading within them the longer he holds your gaze, hands frozen around your waist.

All your senses are overwhelmed with him so close, staring down at you like that. The only thing you can think of is the kiss you shared a few nights ago, your entire body begging to repeat the action as he looks down at you with the same passionate look he had worn then. He seems to be reminded of the same, perhaps of similar moments from your previous life, even more scandalous ones surely.

Thankfully, some of your common sense finds you before you could do something stupid like pull him down to you and taste him again, the thought making you look away from him and clear your throat, hoping he breaks from the spell and lets you pretend it didn't happen. This prompts him to keep buckling the leathers, with an urgency he didn't have before, and you look down with him, following his movements even though your mind isn't actually registering any of them as you try to calm your breathing and not think of the way his hands feel around your waist. You'll likely need his help fastening everything tomorrow as well.

“These are meant to cross so the leathers are molded to your body and there are no openings,” he tries to explain as he finishes and moves back, but you can tell he's as affected by your little moment as you were.

You nod at him, “There were a lot of straps, I wasn't sure which ones belonged where. Some of them don't even look like they have a purpose,” you finish as you play with the straps around your wrists, the ones you really couldn't figure out.

“Those are for your gloves,” he explains, a somewhat endeared look crossing his face. “I didn't think you'd need them but you can put them on. Though I'm not sure how they will behave with your powers now.”

“Did I not have these powers before?” You hadn't thought of the possibility but if the spell could erase your memories maybe Norris could have found a way to give or take powers. Just the thought of it brings a chill down your spine.

“You did, but you've gotten a lot stronger,” there was a hint of pride in his words, though the somber meaning hung between you. No matter how hard you practiced and how well they could have trained you here, the results wouldn't be as fast or maybe as clean as the ones resulting from the guild's harsh training. The guild had no problem pushing you past your limits, you either adapted and got stronger or you'd die and be replaced. You suppose you never had to use your powers to torture people before either.

“When this all ends we could spar together,” you sound hesitant even to your own ears, “Maybe I'm even stronger than you by now.” You haven't talked about what will happen after all of this, you can't know for sure what you'll want to do when you recover your memories. You also keenly aware you had just been telling yourself you wouldn't make it easy on him, but ended up seconds away from kissing him and inviting him to spar with you as soon as you saw him.

“I'd like that,” he nods, a reddish tint rushing to his ears. He makes it unbearably hard to even remember why you were upset with him in the first place. It takes everything in you not to lean into his genuineness and forget it ever happened. You bite your lip and give him a small nod of your own, “Are you ready then? We should go.”

“I wanted to talk to you before we left,” his voice takes on a serious tone, regret peeking through every word.

“Maybe this is not the right time. They're probably waiting for us,” you offered, not really sure how to go about having this conversation after what had just happened, even if the curiosity was killing you. It was clear you couldn't keep a level head when it came to Azriel.

“No, I can't…” he cuts himself off, closing his eyes and letting out a sigh, a heavy sound coming from deep in his chest as if he’s been pushing it down for a long time. He looks scared somehow, his wings pulling in tighter to his body and his shadows crawling up his shoulders as if comforting, or even encouraging him. You let him find his composure, find the right words to explain the situation. This feels bigger than a silly argument when adrenaline was pumping through both your veins and that gnawing feeling in your chest comes back, getting stronger with every breath, making you think this might be something he's carried on from the time you were still married.

Azriel opens his eyes after a few moments, the emotions swirling in them enough to make you breathless, and reaches his hand out to yours, waiting for you to accept it and then squeezing it tight as if he needs the reminder that you're real.

“I need you to know I wasn't trying to keep any secrets from you or order you around as you said,” he starts lowly, shiny hazel eyes alternating between watching your hands clasped together and staring deep into your eyes, “We've had this conversation many times before. I know you don't remember but I need you to know I never meant to make you think I want to have any sort of power over you.” He brings your hand up to his chest then, spreading your palm right over his beating heart as he continues, eyes never straying from yours, “I know you can handle yourself, and I know you want to be there when Norris tells you everything. I wasn't trying to keep you away from the dungeon because I didn't think you could handle it.”

“Then why?” Your voice is but a whisper, not wanting to disturb the vulnerable moment.

“I never let you see me down there before, know the monster I have to become. You tried, many times, but I never allowed it. I've always been too afraid of what your reaction would be,” he presses his hand down on yours a little harder as his heart beat picks up, “It would kill me if you were ever scared of me, if you couldn't love me anymore after learning who I am. I was so scared of losing you. Scared that you would ever look at me with fear in your eyes instead of love.”

You let your gaze fall to the way he presses his and your hand to his chest, letting his heartbeat lead yours. It takes a moment for you to process his admission. From what he told you before you thought you had been open with each other throughout your marriage, but it seems there were parts of him he kept hidden even from you, especially from you.

Moments like these always leave you in a weird position. You can't speak for the old version of you, as much as you want to believe that you wouldn't leave him, would never feel scared of him, when your love for him transcended your memories as if it was written down into your bones, the truth is you don't remember her at all. Maybe she would have been scared, maybe his worries hadn't been completely unwarranted then. The thought leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

You turn your hand around, your palm no longer pressed against his chest in favor of holding onto his hand, your other hand joining in as you massage the rough skin and let them fall between you two, needing something familiar to ground yourself while you think of what to say. You twist his wedding ring around his finger once, closing your eyes at the tremble that runs through him at the motion, the way even his wings droop to the floor. The fact that he lets you touch him like this makes things so much harder sometimes.

“I've seen a lot of monsters. You're not one of them, Azriel. Far from it,” you start carefully, “and… I'm not sure how I was like before, if seeing you down there would have really been too much for me to handle but if I truly loved you like I think I did, then I know it wouldn't have mattered. There's nothing about you I see as unlovable.”

“Loved,” a broken mumble between you, not a question. This makes you look up at him. You want to deny it, tell him you still love him, but you can't make sense of the feelings inside you, can't say for sure what will happen to them when you regain your memories. Most of all, you don't want to hurt him, give him hope when he already lost so much, when you already hurt him so much.

You drop his hand, taking a small step back. “I'm not the same person you used to know, and recovering my memories might not bring her back either. Most of what's left is just my body.”

“It doesn't matter,” he says so matter-of-factly it almost makes you want to believe him.

“Azriel-”

“No,” he brings both of his hands to hold onto your face gently, giving you no option but to look into his eyes, “I love you. That didn't change when you died or over the century that followed, when I didn't think I would ever see you again. It didn't change when I saw you in the townhouse or even when you stabbed me. And it won't change whether you get your memories back or not, if you choose to stay or not.”

“I don't love you,” the words stumble out desperately, tears gathering in your eyes, “I don't even remember you, Azriel.”

“That doesn't change it either,” he smiles, thumb caressing your cheek softly. You know he means it then, know there's no way to change his mind even if for his own good. You can only pray to the Mother that your memories don't give you any unpleasant surprises. You're trying so hard to keep his heart safe, why must he keep offering to rip it out of his chest for you?

His expression changes abruptly as you're lost in thought and soon after you feel a presence in your mind before Rhysand's voice comes through. I hope I'm not interrupting anything. Azriel's hands drop from your face then, a scowl overcoming his features. You can only imagine the words he's throwing at his brother in his mind, but Rhysand's voice returns, noticeably more amused, Our break is over. It's time to meet them back at the dungeon. I take it you'll fly our captive back? The answering growl that comes from the shadowsinger actually makes you hide a chuckle behind your hand. His gaze softening once again when he notices the gesture.

Despite the timing and the way he insisted on addressing you as “captive” to rile Azriel up, you could actually thank Rhysand for breaking you away from the moment. He's right, you've rested more than enough and it's now time to go back and finish what you started. You only have the luxury of dealing with your marriage after Norris is gone and you could actually remember your husband.

The flight to the dungeon is a lot easier this time as your prior annoyance was replaced with strangely welcomed awkwardness and a tinge of bashfulness. As much as you tried to deny it, you can't pretend Azriel's admission hadn't made your heart want to leap out of your chest. You don't think anyone could have remained impartial to such a confession, especially coming from a male like Azriel, but as soon as you step into the dungeon, you feel yourself morph back into the cold assassin. You could even feel Azriel's mask fall over his face as well, ready to resume what you'd started before.

This same routine is repeated for a few days, slowly but surely wearing the formidable assassin down. It wouldn't be long until Rhysand or Feyre could read through his mind completely even if he didn't willingly tell you anything. This sentiment was felt among all of you, it's like you could all taste how close he was to breaking.

You came back from one of your mandatory breaks to see Cassian leaning by the cell door, arms crossed over his chest, glaring at your prisoner as Amren stood in the middle of the cell covered in blood, a wicked grin on her face as Norris looked the most unsettled you'd ever seen him. She was told to hold back in the first days but since Norris insists on resisting, Rhysand had allowed her to toy with him. You truly hope you never cross her, just the thought of the things she could do makes every hair on your body stand.

Everyone stays in the room this time, knowing it's only a matter of time. Azriel takes over once more, every slash of his knife meant to give Norris unimaginable pain, completely focused on making the short remaining of his life as miserable as he can.

The difference between the male who had confessed his undying love to you, held your hand as if you were the most precious thing in this world, and the one expertly carving out your former handler's body was almost unbelievable. Azriel's face showed nothing but anger, and even then you knew it wasn't even a quarter of the seething fury burning inside of him. This wasn't your doting husband, this was the Spymaster.

You feel Rhysand's dramatic show of power before you see him walk into the cell, hands in pockets as if he was walking into his kitchen instead of a seedy dungeon reeking of blood and sweat. He passes by you and joins Azriel in tormenting Norris, letting sharp black talons run across the mental walls he's been so desperate to maintain. The smirk on his mate's face, who leans against the table calmly by your side, tells you they might even be teaming up on him.

Fatigue was starting to eat away at everyone the longer you spent inside the windowless cell, but, as Norris smirks lessened and his bared teeth stopped being enough to hide the obvious grunts of pain, his skin paling considerably as his blood pooled at his feet, it was clear that you were on the right track, only needed to keep pushing.

Your handler had started answering more questions too, if only to keep you distracted and away from any blades long enough. It's hard to believe that the male you've been frightened of for a century is the same one chained in front of you. If it weren't for the stubbornness and the pride he's managed to keep somehow, you wouldn't have believed it at all.

“This whole mission was a gamble. We couldn't know for sure if they'd written you off their wards even if they thought you were dead. When you walked in so easily I thought it would be a piece of cake from there. Seems I was wrong.” You had guessed as much. At the time, being sent to an unknown place on such short notice seemed strange and sloppy for how usually crafted the guild's plans were, but knowing what you do now, it makes sense. Not only were you written into the wards as he said, but if it hadn't been for the strange nostalgic feelings inside you, Azriel would have let you escape, you would have even killed him to do so.

“The spell should have sealed your memories and feelings tight,” Norris continues as if sensing your thoughts, “I'm not sure what is trying so hard to claw its way out from behind those walls.” He tilts his head to the side and pauses as if he found the answer and that self-assured smirk reappears on his lips. The sight makes your skin crawl, your powers reacting with you and sending an icy chill into the room. Temperature dropping as his smirk only widens even more and Azriel looks at you with a worried expression before catching himself. “Maybe I just messed up the spell,” he dismisses.

“What do you mean?”

“It is a tricky spell,” he shrugs nonchalantly, knowing that's not what you asked. Azriel moves before you, Truth Teller slashing across his skin for the millionth time, but Norris seems intent on keeping at least this last piece of information to himself. There's more to this, you know there is, but the interrogation moves on to matters of the guild. Rhysand is still worried that they will come for you now that you've deserted, and that they will bring harm to his beloved court.

Within the next few hours, Norris' healing stops being able to keep up with his injuries, even his voice losing strength. It seems like he was focusing the remaining of his energy on keeping his mental walls safe, but it's not long until you see Rhysand's smirk grow, a satisfied wicked thing on his face.

You watch as Norris' head goes limp, unfocused eyes dropping to the ground as the High Lord searches through his mind, probably making it as unpleasant as he possibly can. Your heart starts beating faster in your chest, anxiety building up at the thought that this could have all been for nothing, that Norris might not have the answer after all. You feel a hand on your shoulder but don't even have the mind to look back and check who is trying to comfort you.

When he finally steps back, he simply gives you a nod and a breath of relief escapes you as you stare back into Norris' eyes. You watch Azriel and Rhysand share a look in the corner of your eye, never daring to look away from Norris' defeated face. Within moments everyone starts clearing out of the cell in silence, leaving you and your shadowsinger standing over the prisoner.

It's only when Azriel's hand reaches for yours, tugging on it to get your attention that you look away. His eyes don't give away much and he doesn't say the words, but as he places Truth Teller in the palm of your hand, you know exactly what he means. He nods at you once and drops your hand, taking a step back and giving you space.

You look down at the dagger in your hands, the same one you had held to wound the male who now handed it to you, the one you'll now use to set yourself free. Describing the feeling running through your body is impossible, you always thought you'd die in the guild, as an assassin. Never even dared to think you could be more, never thought it would be possible to get out alive and find a life for yourself. You thought you'd be scared at the prospect but you can only feel excitement and relief.

Not wanting to waste any more time, you walk to Norris and pull on his hair to lift his face to yours, so he can see all the hate and anger in your gaze before you stab the knife through his right eye slowly, making sure to get it through his brain, deep enough that no amount of healing or any trick he might have had up his sleeve would be able to save him, and twisting it around. You don't move for a few moments, listening for his heartbeat and paying attention to the blood seeping out of the wound. It's only when you're sure he's dead, that his heart is completely quiet and enough blood has poured out, that you pull the knife out with a squelching sound, flicking it down to get rid of most of the blood and any pieces of flesh stuck to it.

You hesitate for a moment before turning back, meeting Azriel's eyes. As much as you'd told him there was no need for him to worry of your opinion of him changing after witnessing what he did to Norris, of ever being afraid of him, you had hypocritically been scared of letting him see you like this, of seeing the cold blooded killer you had become, so far detached from the wife in his memories.

All your worries are proven baseless however. The only thing you can distinguish in his eyes is relief, at having the answer to getting your memories back and having the person responsible for your pain killed. You can't help the smile growing on your face, not caring for how it must look against the blood covering most of your body, and wrap your arms around Azriel's neck, pulling him down into a hug as a sigh of relief escapes you, tears rising to your eyes and flowing down your cheeks. His arms come around you immediately, tightening his grip on you and burying his face in your neck, tears of his own wetting your skin.

You're finally free.

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#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel acotar #azriel fic #azriel shadowsinger #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #azriel angst

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ninihousebears3000 · 4 months ago

Text

HR Department! reader X Alucard

A goodnight kiss.

Pulling an all-nighter causes you to hear strange things.

CW: No warnings!

It's quite late.

You had to agree with the voice in your head. Pulling overtime was necessary considering how your workload suddenly increased. Now you're bookkeeper another responsibility on your plate. Computerizing this ancient system that the organization was barely running on was your mission. But efficiency is your reputation and you wouldn't be able to sleep knowing that things were left in limbo.

Rest, work will be here tomorrow but you won't be here much longer if you keep going on like this.

Morbid but true. Maybe some coffee will give you clarity? After all your computer screen began looking less and less clear. You were certain it was working just fine a moment ago. Standing up you grab your favorite mug off your desk heading to your in-office coffee machine. Walter had refused to use k-cups opting to brew a fresh pot for you every day. But he would cut you off after two cups so for your third and fourth cups you used your K-cups from home.

You placed your mug on the machine instinctively reaching for the box of k-cups. Only to be met with empty space. "What the hell?" You had a full box where did it go? Checking in the cabinets, your bag, and drawers, not a single K-cup could be found. Even your coat pocket didn't have an emergency K-cup. "Perhaps there's some upstairs?" Thinking aloud was your tendency nowadays since this was your own private office. Although, a few more employees and an assistant would be very helpful. Being the head of the human resources department doesn't mean much if you're the only employee.

You thought to yourself as you left your office walking through the basement.

"An office near civilization would be nice."

You retorted walking past the many cells in the dungeon. You know Seras' room is near here. "I wonder what she's up to?" You appreciate her company she seems chipper than most considering her situation. At times you can tell she just wants another person to talk to. It does pain you that she pops in at the busiest of times. It's only been a few weeks since the Police Girl ‘joined’. You did try advocating for her to have a change of uniform and to be at least called by her real name. Those were still ongoing battles.

Then there was Alucard. You're still trying to get a one-on-one meeting about his workplace misconduct. It's difficult to arrange anything with him he has no email! An audible groaning sigh escaped you.

Your thoughts kept you entertained as you finally made it to the kitchen. Normally, there would be servants and other staff members but the only remaining people here were the residents and the perimeter guards. Of course, the ones in the surveillance room which felt weird to think about them watching you right now.

Of course, there was no leftover coffee left so you were having to pull off your lazy slacks and brew some yourself.

Coffee at this hour? Your sleep will surely be ruined. The sun rises in only a few hours. How about lemon ginger tea?

You took your mug and started rinsing out the old coffee stains. Possibly something else for a change?

When you were filling up your mug with cold water to get the last of the stains out. You jolted the mug towards your face splashing your face with cold water. The sensation still shocked you but woke you up for certain.

"My voice is deep but why is my thought voice that deep?" Was delirium setting in? Or was someone truly talking to you? You can see why Sir Penwood said this place can be maddening. Instead of coffee or tea, you opted for ice-cold orange juice and a leftover banana nut muffin. The sugar should help until you find a stopping point. Plus the leftover wetness on your shirt can help keep you awake. Seems like you would be spending the night Walter gave you a ride since your car was practically living in the shop at this point.

Almost three in the morning the voice in your head was right about it being very late. By the time you returned, you finished the muffin and chugged the juice as soon as you sat down. Just one more paragraph to type and you can call it a night.

You've had worse nights from your undergrad years!

Cracking your knuckles your nimble fingers went back to work.

Sugar can't stop sleep deprivation.

There it was again! You can ignore it! Fight on you're the head of the human resources department!

What's the harm?

Just close your eyes for a few minutes.

You never noticed how soothing the baritone voice was until now. An eye break couldn't hurt, right?

That's right little human. Just close those pretty eyes.

The computer screen was looking warped in ways you've never seen a screen do before. Your lids were heavier and you were leaning on your arms at this point.

"But I am not finished yet." Trying to fight this heavy exhaustion was increasingly difficult. Before you knew it your head was using your arms as a pillow and the desk was a bed.

Everything will be fine little human.

"I am six feet." Your eyes closed for the final time. The heat from the cardigan now placed on your shoulders reminded you of the blanket on your soft bed.

Shh, sleep little human.

Wait, your cardigan was on the back of your chair!

Now be a good little human and stay asleep.

Hot breath grazed your exposed neck along with a hissing noise. You reached for the pistol underneath your desk and fired a shot at the source of this strange body heat. To your surprise you found Hellsing's trump card sitting on the ground in the corner of your office. Thankfully, Walter gave you a pistol strangely you asked for a silencer.

"ALUCARD! DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY WORKPLACE MISCONDUCT VIOLATIONS YOU STACKED UP!" Panting and filled with rage you kept your gun aimed at him.

"You know those blessed bullets do hurt." He was bleeding out of his left shoulder. Despite that, his face held an awful grin.

"YOU WERE TRYING TO DRINK MY BLOOD! AND YOU HAVE BEEN IN MY HEAD!" You never thought your first meeting with Alucard was going to be him nearly drinking your blood.

"Shh, you're louder than Police Girl." His nonchalant attitude was getting on your nerves. "Consider it a goodnight kiss little human." Alucard stood to his full height seeing how he still regarded you as little.

"We need to address some misconduct violations." Was this going to be your only chance to talk to him?

"I don't think your department applies to me." He began to walk past you. "Now if you'll excuse me the sun will be rising soon." But your reflexes were being kind to you. Opening your drawer you pulled out a thick binder and flipped to the middle of it pointing at a document.

"You and Seras Victoria fall into this category of employee." He leaned down to read it. His crimson eyes bounced up to yours and then to the book again. "Did you just call me a police dog?" A hint of irritation was in his tone.

"Therefore you must follow the same guidelines as every employee here." You were the head of the human resources department you weren't going to let this misconduct run rampant anymore!

"Please have a seat Alucard." Alucard narrowed his eyes at you and then smirked. "Alright then HR." He smirked while sitting down crossing his legs in the seat in front of your desk. While you grabbed your chair that was pushed across the room after his initial introduction.

You weren’t expecting him to give in judging from what Seras and Walter had told you. But you can’t rest knowing you had the chance.

"Now shall we begin with boundaries."

#this was supposed to be short but I couldn't help it #hr department! reader x hellsing #yea it's 2 am and I decided to finish this and not sleep #i've been thinking about this for a while #hellsing ultimate #alucard hellsing #hellsing oc #hellsing alucard x reader #hr department! reader x Alucard hellsing #hellsing #yeah I did use that last scene in hell ain't as inspo

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astarionancuntnin · 5 months ago

Text

Die For You (Chapter 5)

summary: astarion takes care of you following the events at the ball.

rating: E (smut chapter!)

word count: 4.5k

pairing: astarion x you (fem!reader)

cw: 18+. smut, hurt/comfort, soft!ascended astarion, flashbacks of traumatic events (from previous chapter), consent is hot, soft dom!reader, porn with feelings, power play (if you squint), passionate lovemaking, light teasing, p in v, blood/vampire bites, creampie, aftercare. full list on ao3

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But if I touch you, would you feel it there?

Could I trust love even if I'm scared?

Oh, I wish I could give like I'm longing to give

Oh, I wish I could live like I'm longing to live

The ride back to the palace is dreadfully quiet, with nothing but the sound of the wheels against the ground as the carriage is being moved around. The night is cold, but you still have Astarion’s coat covering your shivering form and his arm wrapped around you protectively, providing you with a reassuring warmth. You’re still shaken by what happened and how helpless you were in that moment. Hells, you were strong – maybe not as strong as Karlach – but you were able to hold your own on the battlefield and yet you got overpowered by this poor excuse of a man? How could this happen? How did you let yourself get in that situation? Despite not wanting to think back on it, you remember what Astarion had told you that first night spent in the cells. Was it true then, that his spying on you assured your security during all those months spent apart? Were you truly as hopeless as he envisioned you? Were you not as strong as you believed yourself to be? And gods damn, how did he manage to capture you so easily back then, and why had you not confronted him about that too?

You’re taken out of your rumination as you reach the crimson palace, and he brings you to your bathroom where he calls for Amedee to prepare a bath for you before dismissing her to take care of you himself. He opens a drawer filled with the best essential oils the market can offer, taking the time to pick the right one. He approaches you and tugs at the lace down your waist, which makes you turn abruptly, still anxious from your earlier confrontation. He softly asks, “May I?” and waits until you give him a few nods, unable yet to speak, to undress you with the utmost care. With your outfit now disposed of on the floor, he takes care of removing your jewellery, placing them aside on the nearest table, before letting your hair cascading down your back. You stand in your most vulnerable state in front of him, with your crossed arms barely covering your chest.

He moves between you and the bath, holding out his hand to help you in, his eyes never leaving yours. “Come now, love.” You stare for a few moments at his inviting hand before taking it to help lower yourself in. The relief is almost instant; all the tension in your muscles leaves as you make contact with the warm bath water and the scent of lotus flower hits you all at once, allowing you to relax. He reaches for a sponge that he dips in the bath before pushing your hair aside and lightly scrubs your back and shoulders. With the silence shared between the two of you, your mind goes back to what happened earlier, replaying the scene in your head over and over again, wondering: what could you have done differently? In another reality, was there any way for you to avoid what had happened? Deep down, wasn’t this your own fault for voicing an opinion at the wrong time? You could’ve avoided that encounter and that dance outside altogether if you hadn’t spoken just at this moment, you could’ve avoided it if you just kept to yourself for once, Gods dammit, why did you always have to open your damned mouth?!

The emotions overflow you and soon, a sob escapes you; you hate how all of it is making you feel powerless, how this single experience is making you question your whole identity. You hate how it happened so fast, how preventable it all was, but most of all, you hate yourself–

“Shhh, it's okay, you’re alright dear.”

You had almost forgotten about Astarion up until now, his voice yet again grounding you back in the present, bringing you back to safety. You sniffle, trying to calm the tears enough to speak up. Your voice is tainted with a roughness from your previous cries, “Why didn’t you kill him?” You don’t really wanna talk about what happened, but it was unlike him to let someone like this go unharmed.

“There is a time and a place for such things; a ball with the most influential figures of Baldur’s Gate was not it.” He says, dipping the sponge back in the water and squeezing it over your shivering shoulders to bring them some warmth. “Then again, it didn’t stop him from attacking you,” he grunts, “but believe me, I won’t let this bastard get away with this. All in due time.” He takes a deep breath, bringing your hair back to soak it with the help of a small bucket. The anger in his voice created a strange contrast with the attentive care he offered you.

“How did you know I was hurt?”

“Your blood, dear. I could recognize it from miles away.” You bring your hand to your neck where the knife has been; it had completely slipped your mind that you had been cut. “The second I smelled it I… I expected the worst. I came as quickly as I could.”

A sudden guilt washes over you, thinking back to the previous month. “I don’t understand why you’re doing all of this… I’ve been horrible to you ever since you brought me here.”

“A little, but wouldn’t you say I deserve it?” You hum quietly through your tears and a smile appears on his lips for a just moment. “I wasn’t exactly… gentle, in my approach, but I stand by what I said about wanting what’s best for you. I don’t see why I would go back on my word, now of all time.” He continues, now soaping your hair.

“Even after knowing I would leave eventually?”

“My feelings for you remain the same no matter where you go, darling.”

You nod thoughtfully; he might’ve been terrible in his approach, but he’s also shown countless times how much he cared for you, even after many months apart. It makes you think back to the first discussion you had with him, in the dungeons. “I still can’t believe you had me kidnapped.”

“Can you really blame me?”

You turn around abruptly, almost offended by his question, “Yes? What prevented you from just coming up to me to talk, y’know, like a normal person?”

“Well, to be fair, you had been avoiding me like the sun at the reunion, I wasn’t expecting you to willingly talk to me. You have to understand my side darling; it felt necessary.”

You sigh heavily, leaning back against the wall of the bath, “All of this because you couldn’t move on.”

Your tenacity makes him smile again. There you were: the fighter that he loved, the woman who stood up for herself. “I did really try, if you must know. I wanted to respect your choice to part ways, move on and build my empire with someone who matched my ideals!... And never have to see you again.” His extravagant tone suddenly changes to a serious one, “But I couldn’t bring myself to commit to anyone else. Every time I tried, I would look at them and I could only see… you. You were never afraid to stand up to me, unlike the others.” He chuckles, “You still do.”

You stay silent, taking in his confession, as he washes out your hair before standing up with a clean towel.

“Let’s get you ready for bed, hm?”

You look at him with tired eyes before raising yourself from the water and linking your arms around his neck as he picks you up. You find yourself observing his face for any sign of malice, anything that would tell you that his intentions weren’t pure, and you can’t find any. You’re not sure if it reassures you or terrifies you the most; to know he has been truthful all along and that you outright refused to see it. He lays you down on your bed and moves away to search your wardrobe, looking to find you clothes for the night. As he makes his way towards you with a dark blue satin night robe, you find your voice again.

“I know you said all those things, but you could have anyone else so easily… Someone who doesn’t argue with you constantly…”

He lays the dress at your feet and sits on the edge of the bed. “My sweet, if I wanted someone who blindly agrees to everything I say, I could have anyone. Turn another spawn and choose them as my obedient little puppet. I could have a thousand like them. You, on the other hand, challenge me everyday. No one could ever come close to you, my love.” He sees your eyes looking away, and he reaches for your cheek, stroking it softly. “When I saw you at the reunion for the first time in what felt like an eternity, I wanted nothing but to have you back. I crave you like I crave the sun’s embrace, Gods, I was alive again after hundreds of years and yet, I’ve never felt more alive than by your side.” He drops his hand to take yours, holding it firmly, and you look back at him. “If I could have anyone, I would still want you and only you. If you just let me take care of you, we could be so good together.” His voice is low and deep, it resonates through you, draws you to him. “Isn’t this what you want?”

Your gaze falls down to his hand with yours, avoiding his eyes, and you groan, those conflicting feelings frustrating you. “I don’t know what I want, alright? I–” You trail off, your words escaping you. “When I left you, it’s because I felt you had changed. I thought I had lost you to that ritual, that the man I loved was gone, but now…” Your eyes find his again, and he looks at you with a kindness you missed. When you speak again, your voice is but a whisper. “I don’t know anymore… I spent so long regretting helping you through the rite of ascension, I really thought it had turned you into a monster, I–” You close your eyes and a silent tear streaks down your cheek. “I thought I had lost you.”

He reaches out to wipe it away and you open your eyes to look back at him. “Oh darling, I never left. It was always me, simply better.” His voice is the softest you've ever heard. If you weren’t looking at him when he spoke, you wouldn’t believe the words came from him. “What I did, I did for us. With my powers, I can assure both of us security, forever, and that’s all thanks to you.” He pauses, drawing you closer to him. “You gave me everything. I will spend every day of my eternal life thanking you for it, in every imaginable way. Whatever your heart desires will be yours.”

You hold his stare as much as you can through your stressful blinking. He’s gotten incredibly close to you and you feel your chest rise higher as your breathing quickens, the tension between you two becoming unbearable.

You look into his eyes, and you see it then: there he is, your Astarion. The same vulnerable pale elf you had ventured and shared nights with all these months ago. Under these layers of newly acquired powers was hiding the man you fell in love with, and tonight you had found him, at long last. You let go of a breath you didn’t realise you were holding in and your eyes quickly dart to his mouth, lips still parted from speaking up, and in an instant, your lips meet in a passionate and rough embrace. All the tension, the longing and lusting leaves your chest, pouring into this kiss. Your hands get lost in his hair, pulling him in as he pushes you down against your bed, his hands landing next to your head.

You’re gonna regret that.

Panic settles back into you, the memories flashing back into your mind and you push Astarion away, breaking the kiss suddenly as your breathing quickens and your eyes get lost elsewhere. You’re back in the garden, with the nobleman from the party.

“Darling?”

His weight upon you, the dagger against your throat, his hand sliding up your thighs.

“Love, look at me,” he tilts your head upwards, and you snap out of the flashback, finally back to Astarion. “Hey, it’s me. You’re here. You’re safe.”

You sigh heavily, your breathing coming back to you gradually. The emotions within you are overwhelming; you’re terrified and enraged, yet, with Astarion you’re reassured, you’re content, you’re… in love.

Look at how much he cares for you, you think to yourself. He wishes for nothing but your wellbeing. He wants to be yours, and only wishes for you to be his. Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted?

“Do you want to stop?” he asks, worried by your lack of words. “Just say the word and we can end it there.”

You blink quickly, briefly not trusting your vision following the last seconds that happened and your hands sneak their way over his face, caressing his cheeks. The softness of his skin, the surprising warmth emanating from him…

You shake your head; you need this. You need him. “Stay with me…” you whisper, your voice trembling. “I don’t want to be alone… please.”

His hand covers yours, and when you look in his eyes, you see what he's trying to say with unspoken words: anything for you, you have nothing to fear with me, I've got you my love.

As the tears overflow you, you bring him back into you, crashing your lips together. Your kiss is messy, with your tongues dancing with each other, both of you wanting more of the other, your teeth biting and pulling, with his fangs grazing your lips everlightly, drawing out the slightest drops of blood just to have a taste. He groans in your mouth at the taste of your crimson and his hips grind against your leg, pressing his growing erection on you as his carnal lust awakens.

“Gods, I’ve missed you,” he says, with a ragged breath.

You feel as if you were possessed, your arms flying to the helm of his shirt, pulling to free him from this cage that his clothes provided, yearning for his touch that you couldn’t wait any longer to feel. Without breaking contact, he quickly removes the rest of his own clothes and discards the wet towel you were previously wrapped in, revealing your delicate skin underneath. The second both of your clothings are off, you push Astarion down on the bed, climbing over him and pinning him down by his wrists.

“There you are, my little spitfire,” he purrs.

When you see a grin forming over his lips, you can’t help the smile forming on your own lips. You pause to admire him, taking in the sight of his dishevelled hair, the lust in his eyes; you missed this, missed him.

You close the gap between your bodies, laying your forehead against his, and say your next words through a ragged breath, “You have no idea how much I want to ravish you.”

“Take what you need, darling. I want you to have control, to feel like you’re in charge of your own body again. I might not have been able to stop what happened tonight, but I want to be the one who empowers you once again. I want to help you like nobody could for me. Tonight, your word is my command; I am yours.”

To have him at your fingertips, following your every word… His words stir something within you, to see how utterly devoted he is to you makes you want to truly make him yours. You can barely believe the opportunity he’s giving you, given the last time you spoke about the subject was after your visit at moonrise towers. You never had the chance to have another talk about his boundaries, but that was also before he became the vampire ascendant. You take his hands to guide them over your thighs, intending on taking up on his offer, “Touch me.”

“How,” his hands remain still on your thighs. “Don’t be shy now, little love. Tell me exactly what you want.”

You lean over him again, your lips barely apart, and you whisper your next command, “I want your hands to caress my skin.”

His hands start moving over your strong thighs, touching every inch there is to discover.

“Guide me,” he whispers. “I’ll only do what you instruct me to do.”

“Move over to my waist.”

His hands travel higher, sneaking over your hips ever so slightly.

“Where to next?” He hums.

“Up and down my back…” He reaches for the highest point of your back, down to the frontier of your ass, only grazing your cheeks.

“I want to feel your nails on my skin.”

His grip on you changes, with his nails now softly scratching over your skin, “Like this?”

You close your eyes, focusing on the sensation. “Mh, harder.” His nails sink into you and you throw your head back as your back arches. “Ah– Just like this…”

Your breasts are now hovering near his face and with each breath you take, they draw closer to his mouth. He could easily cave into his desires and devour you right then and there, but as promised, he waits until you give him his next instruction. Luckily for him, you needed this as much as he did, and neither of you were patient people.

“Now your mouth… over my breast,” you reach out to grab onto his hand scratching your back to put it over your boob. “And squeeze this one.”

As he lifts himself up, his mouth latches on your nipple that he relentlessly sucks on, while his hand massages the one you had guided him to. His fangs lightly scrape over the soft skin of your breast and you softly cry out before giving him your next command.

“Lick your way to my neck,” your voice is but a whisper by now.

Slowly, his mouth leaves your boob and he leaves a faint trail of saliva over your chest as he makes his way to your precious neck. Your hips rock back and forth, only slightly, relishing in the delicious friction you get from his length between your wet folds. Astarion wasn’t going to complain, but he felt like you could take it further, should you desire it.

“If you want something else, you can take it,” he purrs against your neck. “What's mine is yours.”

The temptation to simply take him in was too good to resist, but it’s not something you would allow yourself just yet. The friction it provided over your clit was almost better than having him inside you, and his reaction was even better. Teasing him brought you more satisfaction than you expected and you intended on drawing it out as long as you could. He growled against your neck, only nibbling on your skin there and you could feel how his hips jerked in reaction to your teasing. With your next order on the tip of your tongue, you’re taken aback from the realisation that you wanted this from him. There’s a part of you that’s terrified of what might come out of this, but the rest of your being desires nothing more.

“Bite me.”

He leaves your neck to look into your eyes, not believing the words you had just said. He needed you to say it again, to confirm he didn’t imagine it out of pure madness. That you, the woman he desired most, desired him just as much; just like you used to. Then, when you see the way he looks at you with devilish want, you allow yourself to take what you’ve been wanting for days. You lift yourself up and you position him over your entrance before slamming your hips down, crying out as you take him fully in one thrust. He groans loudly when he enters you, throwing his head back at the feeling and you take this chance to grab his luscious hair and pull back, hard. When he looks back at you, his eyes have gone dark with lust and the thread of control holding him back has gone so thin that it threatens to break at any moment. You repeat your command between two breaths, reasserting your dominance over him.

“Bite… me.”

You guide him towards the spot in your neck where you missed him most before releasing your grip on him. He kisses the spot in the crook of your neck that he knew all too well one last time, finding your pulse and sinking his fangs into your soft skin. As he drinks you in, your mind blanks out, completely lost in the euphoria his bites provided you, and all of a sudden, you’re back at your days spent camping, when this was moreso about necessity, when you gave yourself to him, when you would’ve given him everything. He’s still drinking when the next words slip past your lips between two breaths, completely unaware of the effect they would have.

“Tell me… tell me you love me.”

His teeth leave your skin and he pulls back to look at you, as if he was looking for something you weren’t saying out loud, and if he wasn’t looking at you then, he wouldn’t believe what you had asked of him. Nevertheless, he complies; as he is yours forever more, and you were his for tonight.

“I love you.”

Your half lidded eyes are completely lost in the sight of him with your blood on his mouth, and before you can think about it, your lips are on his, tasting him, tasting yourself, taking everything he has to offer, but also offering yourself to him. You didn’t want to let go, to break the proximity you had longed to share for so long, but the lack of air forces you to pull away. When he looks at you again, you’re stained from your blood, and two fine lines drop from where he bit you.

“I'll take down the moon and stars for you.”

He grabs onto your hips as he begins to thrust upwards, and you let him, too dizzy to think of taking back that control or giving him a new command. He could have the reigns now, you had proved to yourself that you were whole, and this experience brought you even closer to him, the closest you had ever been.

“I'll love you until the world burns down.”

Closer than this and your bodies would fuse together, your minds would meld as one, losing yourself into the other. Ultimately, love, no matter how twisted it had become, had brought you back together against all odds.

“I would burn it down for you if you just asked.”

And you loved him, gods, you hated how much you loved him despite all he had done, despite capturing you to bring you here. You promise yourself that you will bring it up again, make him right his wrongs, force him to–

“I love you.”

One of his hands finds its way to the back of your neck, cradling you closer to kiss your skin between each declaration, and it pushes aside any thoughts you previously had. He repeats himself with a ragged breath, and each time he tells you he loves you, it's with more and more conviction. His pace gets more frantic as he lets himself come undone for you.

“Love… I’m close…” He says, panting.

You pull him into another kiss, knowing you’re nearing the edge of ecstasy too and you’re reaching for any more contact you could have. You couldn’t care for words anymore, but you knew what you wanted, and you would take it, regardless of what he had done in the past. For tonight, you forgave him, and you accepted this form of apology from him.

“Fuck, ah–”

Feeling him shooting his hot seed inside of you is your unbecoming. With a few more strokes, along with his cock twitching inside of you, you finally go over the edge. As the world becomes silent, you scream in pleasure, finally letting go of all those feelings you had bottled up over the last days. The build up in your belly reaches your heart, and there’s something of an explosion in your chest, fireworks in your head, and you see stars for a mere moment. When you come down from your high, you let yourself fall over him, completely spent, with your head hiding in the crook of his neck.

You stay like this for a while, with him still inside you and you resting on top of him, allowing yourself to catch your breath, and he holds you close as if you were but a fleeting image that was going to vanish, but by now, you had no intention of leaving.

The way he strokes your hair aside so casually makes you yearn for more of it. It feels so intimate, the tenderness of it all making you feel as if you had never been apart, not for an instant.

“So much for getting you clean earlier, mh?” You laugh quietly in the crook of his neck; had you known the night was going to take such a turn, maybe you would’ve waited before taking that bath. “Now, let me take care of you, the way you deserve it.”

You groan, too tired to care about getting clean, and when he sees that you had no intention of getting up, he lifts you up himself to carry you to your bath. He calls on Amedee once again to get new warm water, and this time he hops in the bath with you to clean you up. You hum, content with the way he cared for you so dearly, and once you’re both clean, he takes you out of your bath to dry you up. He carries you back to bed where he tucks you in and the moment he turns to leave you stop him.

“Stay with me tonight.”

“Eager for more, are we?”

“My word is your command – remember? Stay.”

Your words are direct, but your voice is soft and your eyes are almost pleading with him; he can’t find it in himself to refuse you. As he joins you in bed, you hold him close, resting your head over his chest once again, and you let yourself be lulled to sleep by the unfamiliar sound of his calm heartbeat, along with the crackling of the fireplace.

Can I move you? Can I soothe your fear?

Could you trust love, if I prove it's there?

Thank you for reading! Comments, reblogs, and likes are very much appreciated <3

tag list (comment or message me if you want to be added!): @grimistheangerinmystares @silverfangmarks @roguishcat @nyx-knox @anacdoce @jwera

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basicinstnct · 1 year ago

Text

spoonfed / suguru geto

word count: 1,181

tags: yandere, drugged sex, non-consensual drug use, forced orgasm, bath sex, vomiting, implied kidnapping, aphrodisiacs, established relationship (LOL)

a/n: “have you ever read sharp objects?” me:

summary: After a night spent at Suguru's, you find yourself in poor health.

It’s all very funny, mostly. You’d felt anxious, but fine going to sleep last night. Then when you woke up, the first thing you did was run for the bathroom. You’d hoped sheepishly to return to bed unnoticed, but naturally when you walked back into the bedroom Suguru was awake, waiting with a glass of water for you.

You’d tried to play it off, but then you threw up again, and again. After, Suguru held you close, told you not to hide your whimpers. He said something then, almost blurted it like he couldn’t help himself.

“I guess you won’t be able to make that work trip.”

That was right, wasn’t it? You’d had a trip, one you were supposed to leave for today, but you didn’t have one anymore, it seemed. Suguru had slid out of bed for a moment, grabbing his cell, telling you there’s nothing to worry about, he’ll take care of it.

Now, you feel like a frail Victiorian child. It aches to stand, to breathe even. You’d hoped to find your clothes, to get out of Suguru’s place once you’d gained a bit of strength. You couldn’t imagine yourself willingly letting him see you like this in a million years, but now it’s happening and you’re hating every second of it. If you could only leave, you’d be able to take an extended break to recover, so you’d be at your best the next time you saw him, if he’d want to see you again.

“You should get back into bed.” You hadn’t even noticed his arrival, which wasn’t surprising. However, instead of being amused, you feel pure dread.

“Um, thanks,” you find yourself trailing off. Has it ever been this hard to put one word in front of the other? “Actually though, I should probably go home. I’ve been here too long and… I don’t want to get you sick.”

“I’ll be fine,” Suguru sighs. He seems to glide across the room until he’s right in front of you, wrapping cold hands around your arms to fold you back into his sheets. You were shaking in the frigid air of your boyfriend’s bedroom but swallowed in fabric you suddenly start to burn. It’s not long before you’re hurling yourself over the side of the bed, desperate to preserve some measure of self control, of decency.

There’s already a trashcan there for you, and Suguru holds your hair back as you empty the contents of your stomach. It’s liquid and bits of apple. You’d been so weak he’d had to feed you himself, bits freshly chopped into small pieces. His hand on your shoulder, moving softly over and over on the same piece of skin.

“I feel sick,” you raise your head as much as you can, ashamed of your condition. It’s Suguru who grabs your chin, lifts your head so you can see his face (or so he can see yours). You find yourself surprised that he looks so… kind.

“Maybe the hospital–“

“Don’t be silly,” he says, smiling, “Like I would let anyone else take care of you. Now, into the tub.”

He carries you there, and against his chest, you can hear his heartbeat through his robe, feel it too. You think it’s racing, but it’s equally as possible that your sense of time is just distorted.

He says nothing as he strips your nightgown off you. It doesn’t even make you blush at this point, and he hums softly at your display of reliance.

The water is hot, so much so that you panic and try to escape, but Suguru’s there to push your shoulders down. Instantly, you sink until the water is just below your breasts. Stagnant, waiting for his next move.

He drops to his knees behind you, probably so you can’t see what he’s doing. It takes more effort than it should, but you turn your head. You’re barely able to see as he pulls out two capsules from what seems like nowhere, and inside are two yellow pills. You hold out your hand, but he gently pushes it away and holds the first one to your mouth. You don’t fight it, or the second one which comes moments later. Then, there’s another glass of water to drink. All the while, he strokes his other hand through your hair. You’re embarrassed that the gesture works to comfort you.

Suguru scrubs your flesh with a soft brush, using the soap you have at your place. You realize that he must have bought it for his. He washes your hair, your face. He treats you with care, but at the same time it feels a bit like a checklist. Once you’re done with one thing, he’s moving on to something else. Still, it’s all routine procedure, until he surprises you.

“Open your legs,” he tells you, and when it takes you too long to comply he does it himself. Then you feel his fingers cup you there. Suguru doesn’t move them; he only applies a bit of pressure you can barely manage. Precise like a surgeon’s hands.

“What are you doing!” You try to be stern but it comes out like a weak moan. You’re so overwhelmed by the illness, by shame of being like this in front of him, that the slightest bit of something pleasurable stuns you.

“Taking your temperature,” he says with no shame, and you’d never believe that’s really what he means to do. “You’re hot.”

“I bet,” you manage to mutter. When Suguru smiles, you realize your lip is trembling.

“In fact, I think I should cool you down.”

He thumbs at your clit, kisses your neck. It takes barely that to wind you up. Quickly, you find yourself panting for him, out of breath doing nothing at all. You’re worried how reactive you’ll be if he makes you come, but Suguru isn’t scared to push you there.

His fingers tease at you, stroking softly, but you whine as he presses harder on your clit and begins rubbing it with soft strokes. Your instinct is to writhe, to shake, but you feel too dizzy with pleasure for any of that.

“This is good, right?” you’re asked, like he doesn’t know. “It makes you feel better.”

“Suguru,” you plead, but it falls on deaf ears.

He leads you towards your orgasm with commands, stay still even though you aren’t moving. Don’t fight, when you haven’t the strength to try. He tells you to kiss him, and you lean your head back to meet his lips. You feel his moan in your mouth, and he coaxes your tongue to touch his. The hand not working you holds your jaw so you’re stuck to him.

You come like that, with his fingers on your cunt. The feeling is hot and muffled. Suguru kisses you the entire time, whispering words in between. He tells you he’s being gentle for you, that it’s nothing you’ve haven’t taken before, probably a hundred times. He’s not wrong, but you still feel worse than ever when he finally opens you up and slips a finger inside.

#my writing #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #suguru geto smut #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto #jjk smut #jjk x reader #smut #if you saw this before no you didn’t!#yandere suguru #yandere geto #yandere cw

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mo0nfairy · 2 years ago

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I gotta see a part of yandere Leon where reader remembers him as they get through los Iluminados maybe some yandere in action lol (at least only if you want to!)

part 1. part 3. part 4.

tw :: obsessive!leon, yandere!leon, mention of drugs, framing, handcuffs, stalking, trauma, guns, wounds, heights, being locked up.

⸺ ooooooo !!! i've been meaning to make a part 2 of my last ask, but had zero idea where to go from where i ended. i also had played a bit of RE2 before the remake came out recently, so a piece of my brain has been kept up in raccoon city for a little while. i would love to express my thoughts and mesh these two games together !!

let's start with where we left off in los iluminados.

upon having your handcuffs taken off by the stranger who is far too close for comfort, you pace backwards, far away as you can get from this insanity of a man. his attitude abruptly shifts into something softer, a major contrast to the emotional breakdown he had just seconds prior. he realizes you're afraid — afraid of him. and as much as the mere thought destroys him to the point of breaking down again, he shoves a sob back down his throat and keeps his distance, despite how desperately he wishes to close it.

6 years. 6 years. he has been waiting over 2,190 miserable days for this single moment. all the sleepless nights spent searching the world for you; all the hopeless nights spent clinging to pillows, praying by some miracle it will somehow become you. every second of these past 6 years has been spent dreaming of this single moment. and even though your reunion wasn't the teary-eyed, passionate kiss in the rain he had hoped for, you are still here with him nonetheless.

and like hell will he let you slip from his grasp again.

with as much time as his needy self would grant him being physically away from you, he is soon at your side. leon then wraps you in his jacket and you swear you hear a harsh gasp escape from him when his finger accidentally makes contact with the skin of your neck. despite your negligence and more-than-obvious discomfort, you do appreciate the new warm embrace after a week of cold rain and damp clothes. it smells exactly like him, as well.

and with that, he's got a gentle hand hovering over your lower back as he guides you through the depths of this hellhole. and piece by piece, memories that had been buried in your brain begin to disinter themselves.

for example, you got a staring problem bro?? for the entirety of the time you spend with leon in los iluminados, there is literally never a single moment where this mans eyes are not on you. half of the time it is to ensure you are unharmed, but the other half consists of him staring in complete and utter awe. it's kind of hard to focus on surviving when leon is constantly staring into your soul. but it has just been so fucking long since he has been able to see you in all of your glory, so please excuse him for any inappropriate behavior on his end.

also, you knew you have lived in raccoon city for a short period of time before the events of RE2 happened, but like everything else that relates to that damned place, you couldn't remember a thing.

except now. leon's gaze uncovers a memory you have of yourself being held in one of the RPD holding cells. the atrocious scent, the uncomfortable bench, the paint peeling from the walls. you try and scrutinize what on earth you could have been arrested for, but your attempts are merely futile. but unbeknownst to you, your arrest was nothing but bullshit. and to say leon has had a crush on you from the second you moved into RC would be nothing short of the truth. so, by pulling some strings, the rookie had managed to lock you up for what he calls 'bonding time'. he'll place a chair backwards in front of your cell, prop his arms on the backrest and admire you with your full attention finally on him (instead of just stalking you around town).

two things you now remember about this man: he was so adorably baby-faced back then and my god, was he awkward. he still cannot talk for shit and i mean this with my whole heart. his sweet, innocent eyes gaze at you while he tries to play it cool, pulling cards like "yeah, i workout" and "you come here often?". all as if he hadn't personally arrested you for possession of illegal substances he planted himself. (nothing will happen to you, obvi. he just desperately needed a second alone with you to show off how charismatic he can be. or try to be, at least).

and for the short second of seeing him after 6 years, his eyes were just devoid of any life. you had assumed the trauma inflicted from that night had caused such a contrast in his physical appearance, and you would be right to assume that. but the soulless eyes, monotone voice, and lackluster personality was entirely due to your disappearance. days upon days of the lonely, eternal torment destroyed his sanity. however, that illustrious boy you can barely remember seems to have returned with your presence.

another thing you can't believe you had forgotten was how intense his stare is. the way he stares is illegible and sometimes overwhelming. he shivers in his stance, whimpers at your every move, and his mind runs rampant with all sorts of obsessive declarations of love. although it may seem creepy to others and especially yourself, do not fret. he has no ill intent towards you, god he could never! this puppy-dog of a man is simply marveling at your sheer existence.

you are able to retrieve another lost memory when you have to jump from a window and into his arms (for those who say he won't be able to catch you, stfu. have ya'll seen how beefy his arms are??? anyways....). the secret agent you have grown to like during your stay in los iluminados jumps down marvelously (most def showing off his james-bond-esque agilities to you). he now watches from below as you stare at the distance beneath you in trepidation. this distrust you have — he is going to travel to the ends of the universe to fix it. no matter what.

you begin to ponder, he has savagely brutalized all threats in your path and held your hand as if he were holding the world all in the same breath. you should trust him, especially after witnessing the pure display of loyalty he has for you.

"don't be afraid, y/n. i'll catch you, i promise!" there is 10000% a way to walk through the house and down the stairs to get to him, but ofc he's not gonna tell you. why would he willingly throw away the opportunity to be your knight in shining armor?

"you will?" your voice is full of apprehension. his stare on you feels like the same bullets he's forced upon your attackers.

"always."

with that, you rip the bandaid off and jump from the ledge. and leon was most certainly not lying. you land safely in his embrace and he wraps his arms tightly around your form. and to finally have you so close, after so, so long of devastatingly praying he could feel you once more.......... if he had a tail, it would for sure be wagging so fast it would morph into a blur. and the way he holds you is different, as if his gentle nature is reserved for you and you only (which it is. this is literally him in a nutshell).

and when you had instinctively buried your face into his neck upon landing, clinging to him out of fear of hitting the ground, he literally melts. i'm serious, he literally just 🫠🫠🫠🫠. the faint hum of laughter and adoration that escapes his throat breaks you out of your state of shock. you made it safely to the ground without breaking every bone in your body, hooray! (as if there is a single reality in existence where leon would ever allow that to happen, but i digress).

you meet his gaze and there is that all-too familiar stare he gives you. leon's arms holding onto you like a lifeline uncovers a memory you have of yourself being held like this all those years ago. you can't recall exactly where in raccoon city you were, but you can remember how humiliated you were when you tripped over a crack in the pavement and ate shit. there was the fairest of scrapes against your shin, but the mortification hurt far more than any wound. while you dust yourself off and attempt to ignore the burning stares of pedestrians, a shout of your name sparks your attention.

the RPD gear and besotted eyes you're met with could be no other than that baby-faced rookie. you ponder of what he was doing on this side of town. was it a simple coincidence you had run into each other? or perhaps, had he followed you? just when you think you can't feel more embarrassed, leon gets down on one knee and dramatically inspects your wound. and my god, he acts like you were shot or something. he visibly shudders from the sight of your leg; people begin to gather around the commotion. with pure ease, he then scoops you into his arms to bring you to safety. you can feel his heart pound like a machine gun beneath the palm of your hand.

despite the humiliation deprived from this event, you fortunately are free from anything mortifying in los iluminados. however, leon doesn't seem to understand when to take a hint.

"uh... you can put me down now." you come out of your memory to thrash in his grasp and avoid his intense gaze, but your prince charming seems to still be caught in his y/n-filled daze.

after a few long seconds, your comment seems to finally reach his brain. "huh?" his response is faint and you almost don't hear it.

you repeat yourself and begrudgingly, leon then slowly puts you back onto your feet, savoring the last few seconds spent with you in his arms. exactly where you belong. you can only fear how much more suffocating affection you'll have to endure before you can finally remember what happened that night.

i think someone legit needs to slap me across the face and bring me back into reality cause holy shit...... i went WAYY too far with this. my brain is a mess thank u for reading.

i have more thoughts about this........ just incase u were curious........ ;)

#resident evil 4 #re4 #re4 remake #resident evil #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagine #yandere leon kennedy #yandere resident evil #yandere #gn reader #gender neutral reader #venus’ brain #moonfairy

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urdepressedslut · 1 year ago

Text

Tears of an Angel

♡ Pairing: Bucky Barnes/The Winter Soldier x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: You’ve been trapped at HYDRA for god knows how long, until the cell next to yours gets someone new. Who is this man, and why is he comforting you? He doesn’t even know you.

♡ Warnings: hydra, bucky’s trauma, heavy angst, hints to sexual assault/abuse, torture, literally this is so sad i’m sorry

main masterlist ✧ part two

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | 18+

You didn’t know why it had hurt that much. He wasn’t anyone special to you to begin with. He was merely a stranger fighting for his life— just like you.

It was a silly gesture that you had let your withered mind believe. You weren’t sure if you held such distaste for him hurting you— or for yourself for allowing it to hurt that badly.

You watched the man shout with anger, dripping into fear— lastly he cried of exhaustion. You watched him shuffle throughout his little room, begging with no one in particular— to set him free. The decent sized hole in the wall separating you two— gave you a front row seat to the man’s episode. The outbursts shouldn’t of interested you, but the glimmer of silver from his arm had caught your attention. This man being different than all the others you’d seen.

He did this frequently, every episode shorter than the last. His voice would grow more hoarse, his shuffling would quiet down, his energy vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. Adrenaline would do nothing for him now.

It had been almost a full month of examining the man from your spot in your own cell. Never did you find energy in yourself to say something— comfort him. What was the point, right?

Although the more time that passed, the harder it was to not say something. The man’s faith was thinning right before your eyes. You felt awful for this man’s suffering, all which had been seen by you. You thought you could sit aside, watch him give up— then he’d leave. It’s what you did with all the others, all of them hurting as bad as the last. But this man was a fighter, he was determined— fighting towards something. Maybe someone.

It was only making things worse, the ending would hurt greater than all the others. He was different, he was strong. Knowing that, you knew they would never let him leave. He was their property now.

That’s just how things worked here. Your strength was taken advantage of.

Today he was staring mindlessly at the wall, his eyes dull and lifeless. You didn’t know why you wanted to say something suddenly, but the urge to ask if he was okay— burned at the front of your mind. It was a dumb question— of course he wasn’t.

His hair was longer, having grown out in his time trapped here.

You were about to say something, beginning to clear your throat when your cell door was open suddenly. You were shocked, the gist unexpected— you were starting to think you were forgotten in here. No one having checked your room for quite some time.

But as the guards hoisted you up— easily since you had no fight left in you. They guided you out of the room, down the hall to an eerily familiar room. One that had your stomach knotting up, dreading the pain you were about to receive.

You were so caught up in the moment, you had missed the man’s head glance over to you— through the hole in the wall.

The door swung open, the guards carelessly tossing you inside— causing you to land hard on your hands and knees.

You let out a cry— half pain, half frustration. You were unsure how you we able to endure such amounts of pain. You begged for the darkness to consume you. Letting you limbs fill with ice, your whole body sinking into a cold deep oblivion. An escape.

But it was over— for now.

You pathetically crawled to your spot against the wall, the movement causing pain to shoot up through your body.

You stared blankly at the wall, wishing you could forget the horrid events that had just happened.

Today was bad. Bad not coming close to describing the true agony your endured, the torture that you went through the felt like forever.

Your lower region throbbed painfully, and you wished that you could be numb. Wishing so desperately to not feel anything.

You felt violated— the urge to rip off your own skin. The thought of your own flesh had you revolted, wanting to throw up. You didn’t want to feel your own skin, you couldn’t look at it— you wanted it to all stop. You stayed eerily still, fearing that your deep breaths— the expanding of your chest would cause you pain.

“Hey.” A soft horse voice called.

You sluggishly moved your head towards the voice, your eyes meeting with concerned blue ones.

You stayed silent— furrowing your brows like you wanted to say something, but found your lips sealed. Truthfully, you were afraid to speak. You feared the guards would hear and punish you some more— you just couldn’t deal with even the thought.

“Are you okay?” He tried again.

You scoffed, wanting to bitterly laugh at his question— but ended up crying instead. Your body shook painfully, your hands clutching your lower abdomen. You quietly sobbed, your tears soaking your thighs as you hunched pitifully.

Your mind was chaos, you felt overwhelmed. Your body was alert, ready for the guards to enter at any moment— while your mind was exhausted.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay— I’m here.” He whispered through the gap.

You slowed your cries, the comfort his words brought you felt foreign. He didn’t even know you, you didn’t even know him— yet he was trying to comfort you. Maybe it was because you were in such a vile place, that had you grabbing a hold of the sliver of comfort.

You hugged yourself, glancing back up to his eyes now— surprised to find them filled with worry. His gaze scanning over your form, as if he was searching for the reason of you distress.

“I’m Bucky.” He introduced, now sitting against the wall, keeping his eyes trained on you.

You could finally put a name to the face.

You swallowed, trying to remind yourself that a name didn’t mean anything. You could know someone’s name and not be close with them, the walls could still stay up. Right?

“(Y/n).” You told him, your voice so hoarse— a sound barely came out. Your screams from the torture shredding your vocal cords.

Bucky smiled, although it didn’t reach his eyes.

“That’s a pretty name.” He thought out loud, and if you had any room for butterflies— you would’ve been blushing from nerves. All your body could manage was fear— pain.

Bucky watched as your body shook with a particular painful looking wave. His eyes widening in concern when your hands clutched your lower abdomen. Your face scrunched up painfully, squeezing your eyes shut— wishing for this sensation to pass.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re gonna be okay— I know it hurts now but just keep breathing okay? You can—” He paused, slipping his right hand through the gap in the wall. “You can hold my hand if you wa— need to.”

You slowly unscrunched your face, taking deep breaths like he had said— the fresh cool air soothing your lungs. Although it caused slight movement, the deep breaths were calming you.

You stared at his hand— hesitant. A part of you knew you shouldn’t— the fact was you shouldn’t even be talking to him. But the other part of you was desperate for human touch. It had been years since you last felt someone— someone’s gentle touch.

Your hunger won, that’s how you found yourself slowly scooting from your spot on the wall, towards the gap— towards his hand. The movement causes the throbbing to pick back up, a whimper of pain escape. You were close enough and grabbed onto his hand tight, squeezing it in hopes he could make the pain go away.

“I’ve got you— just keep breathing. I’m right here.” He cooed, his voice smooth and calming.

You still didn’t know why he was being so kind, but you decided not to question it any longer. You were grateful, to find comfort in such a place.

You quietly sobbed, holding onto his hand— his thumb occasionally rubbing back and fourth on the back of your hand.

“We’re gonna get out of here, I just know we will.” He whispered, and you had a feeling he was trying to convince himself.

You noticed he was peppier today, having more fight in his voice. You weren’t sure if he was only faking it for you, either way— you appreciated the motivation. He was relaxing to be around, specifically today. You wouldn’t question the leave you could find in a place like this. Hell.

“Thank you, Bucky.” You whimpered, sweat starting to bead on your forehead. Your lower abdomen starting to burn uncomfortably.

He gave your hand a tight squeeze, rubbing his thumb up and down once more.

“No need. We’ve got each other now— we will be okay.”

Oh how desperately you wanted to believe his words. Well— you did.

Months had passed, you both clung onto each other everyday— that was until he was taken one day and he never returned. You knew it was completely out of his control— but you felt hurt. You couldn’t stop yourself from feeling betrayed.

You didn’t know why it had hurt that much. He wasn’t anyone special to you to begin with. He was merely a stranger fighting for his life— just like you.

He had held your hand, talked you through some bad moments— he showed you that kindness still existed.

It was a silly gesture that you had let your withered mind believe. You weren’t sure if you held such distaste for him hurting you— or for yourself for allowing it to hurt that badly.

So for now, you’d sit against the grimy wall— counting down the days until someone knew took up the other cell. Then the cycle would repeat and you’d wish for the darkness to consume you.

If you want to be added

TAGLIST: @billy-reads @potatothots @goldylions

#bucky barnes #the winter soldier #marvel cinematic universe #sebastian stan #reader insert #buckybarnes #heavy angst #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x you #protective bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x y/n #james buchanan barnes #beefy bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #the winter soldier x you #the winter soldier fanfiction

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