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meetmyothersouls · 2 years ago

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ok ok so lee seeing the reader around town one day & starts following her. He ends up saving her from another eater? Thank you, I need more lee content!

Been thinking about this all day and I've finally got enough to write it! I hope you enjoy!

First Time for Everything

A Bones & All inspired fanfic

Warnings: stealing money, being attacked, cannibalism (relax it's a bones and all inspired fic), blood, gore, not proofread

July 1989

You’d never stolen anything before. Not even when your friends would go into a Walmart and shoved nail polish and thongs into their purses. They always called you a goody-two-shoes or a scaredy-cat. You wonder what they’d think now as you carry a K-mart bag full of cash from the register you were working at not even 30 minutes ago.

Of course, being newly homeless generated a whole new incentive to steal the money. And even though it was so out of the norm for you, it was so easy. You waited until your line was clear, pulled open a bag, popped the till and calmly grabbed every stack of bills in the register, pocketing what wouldn’t fit. Then, you flipped off your register light and walked out. It wasn’t until you made it to the parking lot that you began to run. And now, the adrenaline high you are coming down from is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. They’ll never suspect you. Not with you being the golden employee that you are. Were. You can’t go back there now.

It’s getting dark, that along with the pointy tips of crumpled up money poking your thigh from the inside of your pockets snaps you out of your thoughts. This morning, you were worried about where you’d stay. It wasn’t the first time you got kicked out of a hotel room, and it probably won’t be the last, but at least now you can afford a new room for the night. If you can find one.

It's hot, one of the hottest nights so far this July. You pull off the thick K-mart polo and throw it into woods, leaving you in your black cami and a pair of khakis. A chorus of cicadas singing from the trees in that line the street almost drowns out the sound of a flirty whistle from behind you. You walk a little faster, not daring to turn your head.

"Hey, little lady," a man's gravelly voice calls out. "Why don't you keep the show going and take the rest off." The man laughs, but it's cut short by a painful sounding cough.

You pick up speed, your Converse slapping the pavement as you quickly turn into an alley, hoping to lose him by your abrupt change in direction, but a thick hand grabs your wrist.

"Let me go!" You yell, attempting to yank your wrist from his sweaty grip.

The man seems to enjoy the struggle, he tightens his fingers around your wrist as he pushes you into a warm brick wall. A tall streetlamp shines an eerie orange light into the alley, barely illuminating the man's features. He's got dark hair, stringy with sweat and grease. One of his eyes is missing and the other is open wide. He looks hungry. Ravenous. And the laugh that rumbles in his throat is truly sinister.

"Keep goin', darlin'. I love a good fight."

Then his tongue is on your neck, tasting your skin. You sob and gag as you inhale the scent of his breath. Sour with alcohol and something metallic.

"Come on, honey. Don't fight me, I just wanna taste-"

"Hey!" A new man's voice yells. "Hey, get off her!"

The man's grip on your wrist loosens enough for you to pull away from him. You take your chance and make a run for it. You dropped your bag of money when Man Number One shoved you against the wall, but you can't risk turning back around. You just have to make it ou-

You're stopped short by a hand in your hair, pulling your head back, bending you almost in half. You scream as Man Number One drags you. He's pulling you by your hair, your heels dig into the ground in front of you, desperately attempting to gain some traction. Your only view is upside down and distorted through the tears building up in your eyes. But, in the dim orange light you see the other man. He's peeling himself off of the ground and his nose is dripping blood onto a forest green crop top. His jeans are shredded, exposing a large amount of his legs, you're not sure if it's because he just fell or if the jeans are just naturally like that or why you're even wondering about the nature of his jeans. He's got a brick in his hand that he's attempting to hide, but even upside down you can see it. You see him look down at you and for some reason he winks. Then you realize, Man Number One can't see him.

Crop Top walks creeps up onto Man Number Two, like a lion stalking his prey. Then, without warning, he slams the brick into the side of his skull with a wet crunch. Instantly, you're dropped to the ground and as much as the landing hurt, the relief feels twice as good. Your scalp throbs and you're sure you're missing a chunk of hair. A set of light footsteps run toward you, and immediate dread sets in again, but it's Crop Top. He grabs you, throwing you over his shoulder. You're not sure if you should be scared or relieved as he places you behind a dark green dumpster.

Crop Top kneels down, looking over his shoulder once to make sure Man Number One is still down.

"Is he-"

"Not yet. Stay here. Don't move until I come get you," Crop Top says. He drops a plastic bag next to you. The money. You're immediately shocked he didn't take it for himself. That's what most people would do. His knees pop a little as he stands back up. He starts to walk off but stops. "And don't watch."

Don't watch? Isn't that like an automatic invitation to watch? You think to yourself. You lean your head back on the brick and close your eyes. You could run right now. You could take your money and get a room for the night and leave this odd encounter right here in this alley, but you don't. Instead, you poke your head out, peeking from the side of the dumpster.

Immediately you wish you hadn't. Crop Top somehow dragged Man Number One and sat him up against the brick wall, maybe 15 feet from where you're sitting. How he did it, you're not sure. Crop Top probably weights 120 pounds soaking wet, but he's managed to maneuver him just right so that he can...

You pop your head back behind the dumpster, unsure of what you just saw. There's no way...

You poke your head out, peeking again. There's a squelching sound, followed by a spatter of blood coming from Man Number One's neck as Crop Top bites into it.

Okay, yeah. He's definitely eating him. This should definitely be a sign to run, right? But you aren't moving. Everything in you is screaming to run. Run the fuck away because this dude is going to eat you next. But you don't. You sit there alternating from watching and hiding. It's like one of those car accidents you can't help but watch, hoping you'll see a dead body, or some fucked up shit like that. You shouldn't want to look, but you do.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, you hear footsteps approaching. You sit up straighter against the brick. His stops in front of you. His white high tops covered in blood and gore. Why would he pick white shoes to wear if he's going around munching on dudes.

"You looked, didn't you?" Crop Top asks.

"I uh..." you risk a look at his face. It's covered in blood. His upper lip, his mouth and his chin are coated in it. You swallow hard. "What are you?"

Crop Top crouches down again, eye level with you. "A person like you," he smiles. "Name's Lee." He holds out a bloody hand. You look down at it then back at him. "Oh," Lee says, wiping his hand off on his shirt, then offers it again. Still just as bloody as before.

"Are you gonna eat me too?" The question falls out of your mouth, you can't stop it. Word vomit.

Lee scrunches up his face, pursing his lips as he tilts his head to the side, contemplating your question. "Mmmm, probably not. Unless you've done something really shitty..." Lee eyes your bag of money with an arched eyebrow and you shift a little.

"My name's Y/N."

"You work at K-mart, Y/N?"

"No," you answer too quickly.

"I've seen you there. A lot."

"I don't work there anymore," you say. "You've been watching me?"

"Every day for like two weeks or some shit," Lee says, like it's no big deal. Though up against eating a whole human, it's probably not. "That your first-time stealing from money from your job?"

You open your mouth, the urge to defend yourself creeping up your throat, but you cut it short. You just watched this man eat someone.

"It's my first time," you admit.

"No shit? Well, Y/N, there's a first time for everything." At this point you notice the grey grocery bag he's carrying. It's full and tied up, dripping slightly with thick red liquid. "Bones and shit," Lee says, and tosses the bag into the dumpster. It lands with a heavy, wet thud. "You got anywhere to be tonight, y/n?"

"Not really, no."

"Not really?"

"I'm homeless," you admit.

"Perfect, let's go."

This time Lee grabs your hand and pulls you up. You grab your bag of money and walk with him looking behind you every so often to make sure no one is following.

"Where are we going?" You ask.

"For a ride," Lee says smiling as he jangles a pair of car keys in front of your face. "Nabbed these off of fuck face back there before he tried to eat you."

"He tried to-"

"Oh, he was going to eat you real good. You're lucky I've been following you."

"How-"

"Shh save your questions, I'll answer all of them when we find his car."

"We're gonna steal his car too?" You ask. The amount of crime you've been involved in today is beginning to overwhelm you.

"You've never stolen a car?"

You shake your head.

Lee smiles. "I think we're gonna have a lot of first times, Y/N."

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#TIMOTHEE CHALAMET #timothee x reader #TIMOTHEE CHALAMET FICS #timothee chalamet imagine #Timothee chalamet blurb #Timothee chalamet x yn #timothee chalamet x you #timothee chalamet headcannon #timothée chamalet #bones and all #Lee x you #writing #smut #dark!timothee

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alex-dontknow · 2 years ago

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An Unplanned Reunion

Characters used: Agoti, Tabi, Daddy Dearest, Mentioned: Aldryx Andromeda, Solazar, Girlfriend and Boyfriend

Type: Hurt / Comfort

Necessary warnings: emetophobia, graphic depictions of violence

This certainly was not the reunion Agoti had in mind.

—

The air was thick and humid with smoke and intense heat, strangling Tabi's lungs from the inside as he forced himself to keep running away from the dilapidating restaurant. His body felt like it was going to split apart, burns, bruises and cuts simultaneously flaring all over his limbs and torso. The agony in his snapped horn only intensified as he fled the burning site, clutching his side as he felt blood seep through a jagged wound.

He stumbled into an alleyway, too exhausted to keep going. In the near distance, he could hear the sirens and shouts of various emergency vehicles, the flashing lights barely breaching the darkness of the alley. Tabi leaned against the wall behind him, the cold brick pressing against his exposed skin through the rips of his clothing. He coughed violently into his hands, breathing heavily as he tasted blood on his tongue, some of which stained his gloves in small splotches when he pulled them away.

Why did everything have to go so wrong?

As the sirens drowned out all other noise, the gravity of what he'd done finally sunk in. So many people were in that restaurant. Sure, he had rented out all the tables in the room, but that only covered a small portion of the building. And he still failed to kill her. If only that blue haired brat hadn't interfered, he could've gotten it all over and done with. Maybe he wouldn't have even needed to resort to the bomb in the first place!

Tabi remembered the screams of terror as the bomb exploded. The rush of frantic footsteps towards the exit. He faintly recalled the wails of a small child.

... All those people...

A pit of dread deepened in his stomach.

... So many of them were injured when he ran out...

He felt bile rise in the back of his throat.

... Did he see a body bag as he fled...?

Tabi swerved and bolted to a nearby dumpster, promptly throwing up the contents of his stomach inside. His legs were trembling and his mouth was on fire. Sweat beaded his invisible skin and tears stung his eyes. His head filled with an uncontrollable cloud of grief and despair, of frustration and sorrow. He couldn't breathe. Tabi slumped to the ground and bundled himself against the wall, hugging himself tightly and sobbing heavily. He rocked himself to try to calm down even a little, but he was too overwhelmed. He cursed himself for being so foolish, so reckless, so wrapped up in his desire for revenge.

He killed them.

He killed those people and she still managed to escape.

He was a fool.

A reckless, half-witted, blinded-by-hatred fool—

"Found you."

Tabi froze. He didn't even need to look up from his spot to know who the voice belonged to. The very man that tore everything he loved away from him, along with his very humanity. Once he faced this man with fury and spite.

Now he faced him with utter terror.

A gnarled hand grabbed Tabi by the still-intact horn and yanked him to his feet, making him cry out and pain shoot through his skull. He didn't have enough time to react as another hand balled in a fist collided with his stomach, winding him as white spots filled his vision. He could hardly hear the voice above, dripping with venom and wrath.

"You don't get mercy from me, little lamb."

A hand suddenly closed around his throat before he could catch his breath, squeezing tightly. Tabi choked, clawing at the hand as several alarms blared in his mind at the thought of the inevitable.

I don't want to die...

Tabi squeezed his eyes shut and braced for his impending doom...

But it never came. He was suddenly tossed to the concrete, sprawled on the ground as he coughed and sputtered and gasped for air. His heart pounded in his ears. The demon towered over him, and he didn't have to turn around to see the seething glare piercing the back of his head.

"You don't deserve the luxury of death, you wretched creature," Dearest hissed, raising a heeled boot to stamp down onto the man's ankle. Electricity shot up Tabi's leg and he shrieked, feeling an audible crack in his bone. He heard wicked laughter above him as he felt his body become restricted and bound, coiling around his limbs and lifting him into the air. Chains, crimson glowing chains wrapped around him in a prison of steel, digging into his fractured ankle and causing more pain to wrack his nerves.

Through a haze of tears and dust, Tabi could make out the unforgettable figure of Dearest standing over him, his glowing red eyes illuminating the heinous grin on his face. The demon slowly stepped towards him, glaring darkly into Tabi's petrified eyes. He raised a single hand as Tabi could fully witness the expression of pure, unbridled contempt and rage channeled through a single grin, hissing with a seething tone:

"Did you not learn from the last time I punished you?"

The demon snapped his fingers. For an instance, it appeared it was in vain. Then Tabi heard the cracks and whipped his head down, the concrete beneath him splintering and crumbling. He screamed and thrashed about to no avail, the chains dug deeper into his skin and the hole in the ground widened to reveal all but a deep, endless void without an end.

"See what happens when you endanger my daughter."

He barely heard his tormentor's victorious cackle before the chains suddenly loosened and he dropped into the void.

Nobody heard the man's screams as he fell.

———

With a frustrated yell, Agoti slammed his fist into the stone beneath him, the cracks once again reforming the instant they appeared. How long had he been trying to dig through the platform? It was a near-suicidal mission, but so long as he didn't have to spend another second in this hapless prison, it would be worth it. Every time he tried to jump off, he would land on the platform again, right at the very beginning. He'd lost count of the days, weeks, perhaps even months he'd been trapped here, alone and angry at the very demons that imprisoned him.

It felt like with each passing moment, his sanity chipped away a little further. Any longer in this hellhole and he'd go mad. Or had he already?

Maybe that question was answered when he heard echoed screams about the place, gradually becoming louder and louder until something crashed into the platform with such force that it rocked beneath his feet. Agoti looked up at whatever landed, slowly rising to his feet to get a better look. Had he truly imagined it?

Instead of something, it was rather someone. The tensed body of what almost seemed human laid there on the stone ground, their ankle bent at an awkward angle that made Agoti wince at the sight. He saw no flesh beneath the holes and tears in their clothing, a floating goat skull where a head should've sat with large horns curling around a decrepit blue hat. They had equally bony hands that clenched into fists, and as it opened its stark-black eyes, yellow irises abruptly met Agoti's eyes.

The digidevil froze, the stranger unnerving and speaking all sorts of possible threat, which then became screams of danger when he saw the serrated point of a dagger poking out of the pocket of their hoodie.

The stranger had no chance to get up before Agoti launched himself at them, wrestling them to the ground and pinning their wrists above their head. If they screamed, Agoti didn't hear it over his own determined yells.

Did they send someone to finish him off?!

Agoti growled through gritted teeth as he looped his tail around the stranger's wrists to hold him down, reaching to unhook one of his chains. Like Hell they were going to let him die down here! He swiftly wrapped the chain around the stranger's neck and pulled. They made a terrified choking noise, and Agoti couldn't help but stare at their frightened expression as they grasped at the metal around their neck.

"You think I'm going to let you kill me for them?!" Agoti snarled at the person below, rage surging through his circuits. He would never give them the satisfaction. "Not before I kill you before you even get the chance!" He shouted as he tightened the chain again, but not before they forced out a strangled scream of his name.

"AGOTI!!"

Agoti stopped. He dropped the chain and uncoiled his tail from the person's wrists. He felt his circuits run cold at the mention of his name, at that oh-so familiar voice. There was no way.

"... Tabi...?"

There was no way on Earth that the person he just tried to kill was his best friend. It looked nothing like him! Tabi didn't have a skull, nor was his body invisible. Hell, did he even have yellow eyes?!

Even so, he quickly pushed himself off the person as they shakily sat up, glowing golden eyes staring into his pupilless white ones in a fear Agoti could recognize in himself. There was only one way to find out if that thing really was Tabi. Agoti spoke softly, his voice wavering, "Is that really you, Tabs?"

The person seemed to shrink into himself, wrapping his arms around his torso and turning away, trying to pull away from Agoti but letting out a pained yelp as his bent leg dragged across the ground. By the way the sock was displaced, Agoti reckoned it was swollen and likely broken. The digidevil inched closer, but the goat-headed figure only cried out in protest, "Don't look at me!"

Agoti stopped moving, now resting on his knees, but still persisted with the question. Bewildered, he asked again, "Tell me, is that really you?" Still, the person didn't respond to him. Sighing, Agoti tried to think of a way to get an answer. He briefly looked away and dragged a hand down his face before fishing in his pockets for his phone. He tore off the case and carefully tossed it towards the person. "Pick it up."

The figure reluctantly did so.

"Look, that's us and Aldryx together!" Agoti pointed towards a small Polaroid photograph slotted into the back of the case, displaying three people arm in arm with each other: Agoti, his brother Aldryx, and Tabi— at least how the digidevil recalled him looking. It was taken a year ago, the date scribbled on the white card beneath the photo: January 6th. "It was Aldryx's birthday, so we'd planned an entire day for him at the arcade. You won a cat plush from the claw machine, but he insisted you have it because you loved the exact breed the plush was." Agoti couldn't help but smile as he recalled the fond memory.

The person looked at the photograph with wide eyes, his hands beginning to shake as Agoti asked, "Do you remember?" to which he slowly nodded as they dropped the phone case and looked up at Agoti.

"Well," Agoti swung back on his feet, huffing slightly, "this is not the reunion I had in mind." The digidevil almost couldn't believe it. However, the fact that his best friend was down here meant—

"They got you too?"

Tabi turned away again, trying to cover his skull with his hands as he pleaded, "Please, go away..."

Agoti scanned Tabi's new features, from the grazed bone of his hands to the snapped horn. He looked nothing like how he did a year ago. Agoti felt anger bubble up inside him, but for entirely different reasons.

"What did they do to you?" he asked at a low volume and in an accusatory tone, sliding closer to his best friend and outstretching his hand. To his dismay, Tabi immediately flinched away, shaking even more.

"How can you even sit here with me...?" Tabi whispered, looking up at Agoti again. "I look nothing like your best friend. You can't even call me that anymore, look at me!" He suddenly shouted and opened his arms, allowing the digidevil to stare in shock at the inhuman skull and blood coating his invisible limbs. His eyes widened at the wound on his side. "I'm a monster! A freak! I don't look human to you at all, do I?! Nothing like your best friend!" His voice started to break as tears filled his eyes, barely stifling a sob as he covered his face again.

Agoti's heart was aching. This really wasn't how he wanted to reunite with his best friend again, and in the same prison of all places... but he didn't care about the words Tabi spat out. All he knew was that his best friend sat in front of him, after countless hours of solitude in this wretched void, and he needed him to stay.

Agoti placed his hands on Tabi's shoulders, ignoring the latter's flinch and attempt to shrink back into a ball. "I've been trapped here for so long, Tabi," he said, "and I haven't seen you or Aldryx or Dad in months, maybe even years. Now you're finally here with me, I don't care what happened to either of us," he felt his own tears prick his eyes, "all I know is that you're my best friend, no matter how you look to me, and I can't ever lose you again or I'm pretty damn sure I'll lose my mind!" He gave a half-hearted chuckle at the last few words. Tabi didn't respond, looking up at Agoti as the tears began to stream down his cheeks.

Agoti couldn't help but wrap his arms around Tabi and hug him tight, despite the latter freezing with a fearful squeak. "You'd be dumb as Hell to think I'd ever think of you differently, Tabs," he whispered, his own cassette tears streaming down his cheeks. To his delight, Tabi slowly slid his own arms around the digidevil and pressed his face into his chest, several choked sobs muffled by the latter's hoodie. Agoti wrapped his tail around them both so they were as close as possible, embraced in the cold void after so, so many endless days of being alone and apart. They wept together, finally able to release their shared sorrows into trusted arms.

Agoti was the first to speak after a few minutes, voice slightly scratchy, "So what happened while I was gone, eh..?"

Tabi sniffled, arms lightly tightening around the digidevil before he replied, "Th-That demon of a girlfriend... and her equally evil family..." his voice shaking in anger as he dug his fingers into the back of Agoti's hoodie. "She was only playing me for a fool! She lied, they all lied to me!"

Agoti's heart sank. Of course the girl had to be as wicked as her parents. It was almost expected of her.

"They took everything from me! My life, my career, my body...!" Tabi's voice trembled even more as Agoti felt his tears soak into his hoodie, "They killed my little котенок!!"

His cat? If Agoti wasn't already livid at the Dearests, now he was even more pissed off. How dare they hurt his friend like that?! They made him unrecognizable. To the point you tried to kill him, he silently reminded himself, feeling guilty.

"I tried to exact my revenge, Agoti, I really tried, but of course it had to fail because she found someone else, that cocky little brat had to stand up for her!" Tabi inhaled shakily, trying to compose himself. "Then her father found me and... sent me here," he added with a sigh.

"Tell ya what, Tabs," Agoti loosened his tail so Tabi could pull away to look at him, "once we get out of this place, you, me, and I know Aldryx and Dad will want to as well, we hunt those bastards down one by one and give them karma!" He grinned determinedly. "Ya know exactly what my brother and dad are capable of, so it'll be no difficulty! I'm sure Dad'll scare them well away from this city before we can even get within ten meters," he added jokingly. Tabi's eyes narrowed at the edges in what Agoti assumed was a smile, and the digidevil wiped away both of their tears. "I promise, Tabs, we'll get outta here. Y'know I don't break my promises, don't ya?"

Tabi nodded and hugged Agoti again, even tighter than before. The digidevil eagerly hugged back, wrapping his tail around them. Agoti's smile only widened when he heard Tabi murmur,

"I missed you so much, Agoti..."

To which he gratefully replied,

"I missed ya too, Tabs."

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strangerficsxx · 4 months ago

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Chapter Six: The Monster

wc: 2.4k after rescuing nancy from the upside down, jennifer offers to help but gets turned down. the following day, the police are at hawkins high school to interrogate students, and jennifer is among them.

[a/n: all characters, plot, etc. are not mine. The only thing I own is my original character. credit to gif owner.]

{ November 10, 1983 }

Continuing to search, Jennifer and Jonathan keep calling out Nancy's name. They hear her voice loud and clear, but can't see her. Finally, Jonathan sees the tree with the odd substance as he removes his bag and creeps towards it to where he's on his knees. Jennifer does the same thing before jumping back when a hand reaches out. Jonathan grabs Nancy's hand, pulling her towards him as Jennifer tries her best to help, yanking harder. She was afraid of hurting the brunette. She keeps pulling until Nancy falls on top of the male as he hugs her and stares as the trunk closes up. Jennifer sighs in relief as she pats Nancy’s back, hugging her also as she looks at Jennifer with fear in her eyes.

——

When they get Nancy back to her house, Jennifer decides to ask if she could stay over to comfort her. She says that it is okay for her to leave as Jennifer does that, exiting the room before saying goodbye.

Jennifer walks down the stairs and out the front door and proceeds to walk down the empty, dark street. She continues when she hears the bush nearby rattle. Jennifer was afraid it was one of those monsters coming to feed off her body or something. Stalking up to the bush, Jennifer feels herself getting scared. When she reaches out to see what it is, a bunny hops out, eating the grass then watches her. The bunny hops out of sight as Jennifer sighs in relief, making her anxiety decrease. Walking, Jennifer slides her hands in her pockets to keep them warm as she manages to find the right street.

"Come on, Jennifer. Get a hold of yourself. Jesus." She curses under her breath.

Jennifer watches as a crimson colored vehicle speeds by, not realizing that it was Steve's BMW. She continues down the dimly lit sidewalk, managing to make it back to her house, pinning herself against the bricks. She approaches her bedroom window, sighing in relief. Sliding the glass open, Jennifer pulls herself through. She stands there, hoping that she didn't make too much noise before closing the window behind her. Jennifer slid her jacket off then her shirt, tossing them in the hamper. she then proceeds takes off the long sleeve shirt she wore under the t-shirt as well as her pants. She puts the last bit of dirty clothes in the hamper before grabbing her sleep clothes, putting them on before sliding in the bed as her eyelids get heavier each second before falling asleep.

——

{ November 11, 1983 }

The next day, Jennifer gets woken up by her mother calling out to her. She rushes out of her bedroom and asks if everything is okay. When Claudia nods, she holds the phone out to Jennifer as she sighs in relief. Taking the phone from her mom, she answers.

"Hello?"

"Hey, we're gonna go back to that place to capture it. Wanna join?"

"Uh, yeah. Sure. Where do you wanna meet?"

"The hunting store around noon-ish, got it?"

"Yeah, see you then Jonathan."

Hanging the phone on the wall, Jennifer looks at the time and sees that it is ten till twelve, so she does what needs to be ready. She proceeds to take a shower, and get the dirt and whatever off her body from the night before, making sure she doesn't smell bad. Walking out in just a towel, Jennifer makes way towards the closet to look for clothes, managing to find an outfit that was freshly washed. Throwing the clothes on, Jennifer finishes getting ready before throwing her damp hair in a ponytail. Not a usual hairstyle for Jennifer, but she did it because she didn't want to deal with styling it.

Jennifer exits her bedroom and enters the kitchen, seeing that her dad is gone, same as her mom and brother. She grabs a granola bar and decides to leave a note in case someone in the house searches for her. Finally, getting out, Jennifer checks her watch, seeing it is almost time she's supposed to meet up with Nancy and Jonathan, so she quickly walks there since the car is gone in the carport. Arriving, Jennifer meets up with Nancy and see Jonathan as they stand leaning against a car.

"Why are we going back out there? Nancy almost got stuck in that... that... dimension."

"Yes, I know, but there are answers in there."

They walk in the hunting store and search for things to use in the hunt for the being they came in contact with the day before. After, Nancy sets the stuff on the counter as Jonathan asks for ammo. Jennifer just stood there and smiled at the cashier as he gives the three of them a look.

"What's this for?" The cashier asks.

"Monster hunting," Nancy tells him.

"Okay,"

They bring the objects outside and put it in the back of the vehicle.

"You know, last week... I was shopping for a top Steve would like. It took me and Barb all weekend. It seemed like life or death, you know? And... and now--"

"You and Jennifer are shopping for bear traps with Jonathan Byers."

"Yeah," The brunettes say in unison.

"What's the weirdest part?"

"Me or the bear trap?"

"You. It's definitely you."

A car horn honks as someone shouts Nancy's name.

"Hey, Nancy." A male calls, catching Jennifer including Jonathan's attention. "Can't wait to see your movie."

The car speeds away.

"What the hell was that?"

"I don't know."

Nancy turns around and walks past her as Jonathan asks where she's going. Ignoring them, she sprints down the sidewalk as Jennifer and Jonathan are hot on Nancy’s trail. She crosses the street and towards the movie theater and sees the sign with title credits for new movies, and sees 'All the right moves,' filled in with red spray paint. 'Starring Nancy The SLUT Wheeler.’

"I can't believe it," A man complains.

"These kids!" A woman exclaims.

"Jesus," Jonathan curses as Nancy continues to stare, sighing.

Looking around, Jennifer watches as a couple stares at Nancy in disgust until she hears a spray can hissing and someone laughing. She follows after it, leading to an alleyway. Nancy stops at the entrance of alleyway as Jennifer and Jonathan stay behind. The brunette marches toward the group, seeing Steve, Tommy, Carol and Nicole

"Aw, hey there, princess."

"Uh-oh! she looks upset."

Nancy walks up to Steve before stopping in her tracks. She moves her hand against his cheek as the three friends of Steve's gasp in shock.

"Damn."

"What is wrong with you?”

"What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you?”

Steve scoffs.

"What are you talking about?"

"I wouldn't lie if I were you. You don't wanna be known as the lying slut now, do you?"

Jennifer and Jonathan stalk closer.

"Speak of the devil," Tommy says when he sees Jonathan.

"I saw you. You completely ignored me when I called your name. What are you doing with this loser anyway." Steve says. "What? You let him in your life to... study?"

"Or for another pervy photo session?"

"We were just-- I--"

"You were just what? Finish that sentence." He becomes more serious and a little intimidating. "Finish the sentence."

Nancy breathes heavily as she tries to muster up something to say, so Steve'll leave her alone. Steve scoffs.

"Go to hell, Nancy."

"Come on, Nancy, let's just leave." Jonathan suggests.

"You know what, Byers? I'm actually kinda impressed." Steve begins. "I always took you for a queer, but I guess you're a little screw-up like your father."

Steve continues picking on Jonathan as Jennifer brings Nancy away, holding her close. They see his eyes glowing with anger.

"Oh, yeah, yeah. Yeah, that house is full of screw-ups." He bullies, pushing him further away. "You know, I guess I shouldn't be surprised. A bunch of screw ups in your family.”

"Jonathan, leave it." Nancy says, sternly.

Jonathan stops, ignoring Nancy's words standing his ground.

"I mean, your mom... I'm not even surprised what happened to your brother."

"Steve, Shut it!" Jennifer yells.

"I'm sorry I have to be the one to tell you, but the Byers, their family, it's a disgrace to the entire--" Steve begins before getting cut off by Jonathan's fist colliding with his face, making him fall into a wall next to them.

He grunts as Jonathan heaves. The adrenaline courses through everyone's veins watching this moment unfold in front of their eyes. Steve lunges forward and tackles Jonathan to the hood of his car, pinning him down. The males struggle at first, but Steve then gets thrown to the ground. Jonathan groans as they call out Steve's name, trying to get him to stop. He gets on top and wrestles.

"Stop! Steve! Knock it off, you guys!"

"Get off of him, seriously!" Carol shouts.

"Kick his ass man!"

Jonathan gains the upper hand, decking Steve in the face causing him to fall to the ground. As Nancy and Jennifer shout for him to stop, Jonathan ignores everyone else as he straddles Steve and begins punching him repeatedly. Sirens wail as officers arrive on the scene.

"Cops!" Tommy shouts.

"Guys--"

"Jonathan, get off him!"

Jonathan punches him once more. He gets in another punch or two as Steve's friends begin to escape.

"He's had enough!"

As one officer tries to get a hold of Jonathan, he throws him against the vehicle beside them as the deputy shouts. The other manages to get Jonathan off of Steve as Tommy helps him off the ground and scurries. Jonathan gets slammed against the hood of the vehicle as handcuffs are placed on his wrists. Jennifer and Nancy stand side-by-side. She lets go of her hand, breathing heavily as Steve and Tommy catch up with the two other girls before one of the cops chases after them. Jennifer stands concerned, folding her arms against her chest before pinching the bridge of her nose. She was afraid of what will happen next, hoping her mom wont get contacted.

——

At the police station, Jennifer watches Nancy retrieve ice from the receptionist as she is seated beside Jonathan. She listens to the question. "Why'd you do that?"

"I don't... I don't know, Jennifer. I'm... Just tired of all the shit I have to deal with on a daily basis. Most of the time, it's Steve."

"I get that, but you didn't have to assault him. And, before you say anything, I'm not taking sides. I believe you both are responsible for your actions."

"I guess you're right."

Jennifer glances at Nancy once again, overhearing her speak to the receptionist.

"Do you think we'll be out of here soon?"

"You and her? Yes. Him, no. He assaulted a police officer."

Walking towards Jonathan, Nancy holds a towel with ice inside before putting it up to his swollen and injured hand. Jennifer rises, so the other female can sit beside him.

"Jennifer, you can take off if you want. I'll stay with Jonathan."

"If that's okay with you, Jonathan."

He doesn't say anything as Jennifer takes that to step away, leaving the room as one of the officers takes her in for questioning.

After they interrogate Jennifer, she is able to leave fairly quickly as she just walks wherever her feet take her. Stumbling upon a path to the woods, she follows it as Jennifer hears the sound of leaves crunching continuously. She follows it. Seeing Dustin and Mike, Jennifer sighs in relief only to find them running from to other males. One holds a knife as the other follows behind. She goes after them out of instinct without realizing it. Coming up to the quarry, Jennifer watches the bullies rein the two kids in as the raven haired kid picks up a rock, Dustin picks up a stick.

"Hey, dickheads!" You shout, all four kids looking your way. "What the hell are you two doing?"

The two school aged boys ignore Jennifer as she watches Wheeler throw a rock, missing the bully completely.

"Nice throw, numbnuts."

Dustin yells as he swings the stick in his hand, but the kid dodges before grabbing him and holding Dustin against him, knife drawn against his cheek.

"Let him go!" Jennifer shouts, walking closer.

"Stay back, or I'll cut him!" The kid shouts.

"What do you want?" Mike asks.

"I wanna know how you did it?"

"How I did what?"

Dustin whimpers as Jennifer carefully steps closer inch by inch.

"I know you did something to me. Some nerdy science shit to make me do that."

"You mean piss your pants?"

Jennifer snickers but immediately covers it with a cough.

"Our friend has super powers, and she squeezed your tiny bladder with her mind."

"Shut up!" He shouts. "I think I should save Toothless here a trip to the dentist. Help him lose the rest of his baby teeth."

"Let him go. Let him go!"

Jennifer stays quiet, unsure of what she should do in the moment, grabbing onto a rock that is a little heavier, but stays back.

"I'll let him go, sure. But first...it's your turn."

"My turn for what?"

"Wet yourself."

Mike, including Jennifer, were confused at the kid's words. The other bully begins to stand down.

"What?"

"Jump... or Toothless here gets an early trip to the dentist."

Jennifer watch as Mike turns his heel, stepping closer to the edge as Dustin shouts. Jennifer ushers after him but it's too late, he jumps off the cliff. The three boys including her rush toward the edge of the rocks, looking down.

"Holy shit," Dustin curses.

Mike is floating like something is holding him from falling to the rocky terrain beneath. Getting lifted up, he is safely placed on the ground as everyone watches in astonishment. Mike glances to the side and sees Eleven. Blood trickles from her nose as the three boys look over as well. Dustin smiles as well as Jennifer. Eleven uses her powers to push one of the bullies back as she breaks the arm of the other who was holding a pocket knife. He screams out in pain, holding his arm.

"Go,"

The boys run away in fear as Dustin begins shouting at them.

"She'll kill you. You hear me? She'll kill you, you sons of bitches!"

"Dustin."

Jennifer watches as Eleven begins to look very pale before falling down. Her body is weak as she rushes to her side as she frantically apologizes to Mike. He soon brings her into a hug as Dustin follows. Kneeling, Jennifer watch the happy moment before Dustin offers her in. She joins in on the hug as well, wanting to keep the kids safe.

Watching as they walk away, Jennifer turns the other direction to go back to the station when she sees the Chief's vehicle rush through with Joyce sitting in the passenger seat. She knew that Jonathan would soon be in a lot of trouble.

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #jennifer henderson #midnight rain #stranger things oc #emily rudd #steve harrington x oc #stranger things original character #stranger things season 1 #stranger things 1 #steve harrington #jennifer x steve

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strangerficsx · 10 months ago

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Chapter Six | The Monster

story: Midnight Rain wc: 2.4k after rescuing nancy from the upside down, jennifer offers to help but gets turned down. the following day, the police are at hawkins high school to interrogate students, and jennifer is among them.

[a/n: all characters, plot, etc. are not mine. The only thing I own is my original character. credit to gif owner.]

{ November 10, 1983 }

——

"Come on, Jennifer. Get a hold of yourself. Jesus." She curses under her breath.

——

{ November 11, 1983 }

"Hello?"

"Hey, we're gonna go back to that place to capture it. Wanna join?"

"Uh, yeah. Sure. Where do you wanna meet?"

"The hunting store around noon-ish, got it?"

"Yeah, see you then Jonathan."

"Why are we going back out there? Nancy almost got stuck in that... that... dimension."

"Yes, I know, but there are answers in there."

"What's this for?" The cashier asks.

"Monster hunting," Nancy tells him.

"Okay,"

They bring the objects outside and put it in the back of the vehicle.

"You know, last week... I was shopping for a top Steve would like. It took me and Barb all weekend. It seemed like life or death, you know? And... and now--"

"You and Jennifer are shopping for bear traps with Jonathan Byers."

"Yeah," The brunettes say in unison.

"What's the weirdest part?"

"Me or the bear trap?"

"You. It's definitely you."

A car horn honks as someone shouts Nancy's name.

"Hey, Nancy." A male calls, catching Jennifer including Jonathan's attention. "Can't wait to see your movie."

The car speeds away.

"What the hell was that?"

"I don't know."

"I can't believe it," A man complains.

"These kids!" A woman exclaims.

"Jesus," Jonathan curses as Nancy continues to stare, sighing.

"Aw, hey there, princess."

"Uh-oh! she looks upset."

Nancy walks up to Steve before stopping in her tracks. She moves her hand against his cheek as the three friends of Steve's gasp in shock.

"Damn."

"What is wrong with you?”

"What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you?”

Steve scoffs.

"What are you talking about?"

"I wouldn't lie if I were you. You don't wanna be known as the lying slut now, do you?"

Jennifer and Jonathan stalk closer.

"Speak of the devil," Tommy says when he sees Jonathan.

"I saw you. You completely ignored me when I called your name. What are you doing with this loser anyway." Steve says. "What? You let him in your life to... study?"

"Or for another pervy photo session?"

"We were just-- I--"

"You were just what? Finish that sentence." He becomes more serious and a little intimidating. "Finish the sentence."

Nancy breathes heavily as she tries to muster up something to say, so Steve'll leave her alone. Steve scoffs.

"Go to hell, Nancy."

"Come on, Nancy, let's just leave." Jonathan suggests.

"You know what, Byers? I'm actually kinda impressed." Steve begins. "I always took you for a queer, but I guess you're a little screw-up like your father."

Steve continues picking on Jonathan as Jennifer brings Nancy away, holding her close. They see his eyes glowing with anger.

"Oh, yeah, yeah. Yeah, that house is full of screw-ups." He bullies, pushing him further away. "You know, I guess I shouldn't be surprised. A bunch of screw ups in your family.”

"Jonathan, leave it." Nancy says, sternly.

Jonathan stops, ignoring Nancy's words standing his ground.

"I mean, your mom... I'm not even surprised what happened to your brother."

"Steve, Shut it!" Jennifer yells.

"Stop! Steve! Knock it off, you guys!"

"Get off of him, seriously!" Carol shouts.

"Kick his ass man!"

"Cops!" Tommy shouts.

"Guys--"

"Jonathan, get off him!"

Jonathan punches him once more. He gets in another punch or two as Steve's friends begin to escape.

"He's had enough!"

——

At the police station, Jennifer watches Nancy retrieve ice from the receptionist as she is seated beside Jonathan. She listens to the question. "Why'd you do that?"

"I don't... I don't know, Jennifer. I'm... Just tired of all the shit I have to deal with on a daily basis. Most of the time, it's Steve."

"I get that, but you didn't have to assault him. And, before you say anything, I'm not taking sides. I believe you both are responsible for your actions."

"I guess you're right."

Jennifer glances at Nancy once again, overhearing her speak to the receptionist.

"Do you think we'll be out of here soon?"

"You and her? Yes. Him, no. He assaulted a police officer."

Walking towards Jonathan, Nancy holds a towel with ice inside before putting it up to his swollen and injured hand. Jennifer rises, so the other female can sit beside him.

"Jennifer, you can take off if you want. I'll stay with Jonathan."

"If that's okay with you, Jonathan."

He doesn't say anything as Jennifer takes that to step away, leaving the room as one of the officers takes her in for questioning.

"Hey, dickheads!" You shout, all four kids looking your way. "What the hell are you two doing?"

The two school aged boys ignore Jennifer as she watches Wheeler throw a rock, missing the bully completely.

"Nice throw, numbnuts."

Dustin yells as he swings the stick in his hand, but the kid dodges before grabbing him and holding Dustin against him, knife drawn against his cheek.

"Let him go!" Jennifer shouts, walking closer.

"Stay back, or I'll cut him!" The kid shouts.

"What do you want?" Mike asks.

"I wanna know how you did it?"

"How I did what?"

Dustin whimpers as Jennifer carefully steps closer inch by inch.

"I know you did something to me. Some nerdy science shit to make me do that."

"You mean piss your pants?"

Jennifer snickers but immediately covers it with a cough.

"Our friend has super powers, and she squeezed your tiny bladder with her mind."

"Shut up!" He shouts. "I think I should save Toothless here a trip to the dentist. Help him lose the rest of his baby teeth."

"Let him go. Let him go!"

Jennifer stays quiet, unsure of what she should do in the moment, grabbing onto a rock that is a little heavier, but stays back.

"I'll let him go, sure. But first...it's your turn."

"My turn for what?"

"Wet yourself."

Mike, including Jennifer, were confused at the kid's words. The other bully begins to stand down.

"What?"

"Jump... or Toothless here gets an early trip to the dentist."

"Holy shit," Dustin curses.

"Go,"

The boys run away in fear as Dustin begins shouting at them.

"She'll kill you. You hear me? She'll kill you, you sons of bitches!"

"Dustin."

#the monster #stranger things #steve harrington #stranger things season one #stranger things season 1 #stranger things fic #emily rudd #jennifer henderson #steve harrington x oc

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theyanderespecialist · 2 years ago

Text

Chosen Bride 1 (Scenario: Framed) Yandere Scarlet King X Female D Class Reader (SCP/SCP Foundation)

[Hello My Sexy Muffins, I am here with a new chapter this was requested for an x listener and I thought I would put it here as well. Please do enjoy this.]

(Disclaimer This is fiction and is just for fun and is not to be taken seriously. I hope that you all enjoy this chapter but remember SCPS ARE NOT REAL And Yanderes are Fine To Simp For In fiction. As long as you remember to separate fiction from reality, yanderes are not okay to simp for in real life!)

(No One's POV)

You walked to the market, you were going to get some fresh fruit and veggies to work on having a better diet. You smiled to yourself and then look at the man walking next to you. He made your skin crawl and the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. This man was just one big bad warning. A Hood up in some type of Robe. Kept glancing and staring at you. You walked a bit faster and so did he. You went even faster and once more he did the same. Now you are in a full-blown sprint. Trying to get out of the long alleyway. Only to Grab and slammed into the brick wall.

Blood now dripping from your face where it go scraped and a hand covers your mouth. There was a rag. You try to hold your breath for as long as you can and try to squirm but it was no use. You were held until you were forced to breathe. Slowly everything went black.

The man dragged your body back to the end of the alley he followed you in. Have two other men in robes pick you up and throw you into the Van. They drive off as if nothing happen, as if they did not just kidnap you. How did this come to be and who are these men? Well, it all started with them 1 year ago.

-1 Year Ago-

The group of thirty followers stands around. Using the anomalis stone to communicate with their God. The Scarlet king. He had given them an important message. The message was to find a woman that the scarlet king had described to them. So far each girl they found was not the one. So They killed each girl they brought. They needed more details. The Scarlet king knew his followers were idiots.

So he told them your name.

After that, it was easy enough to find you. They began to follow the orders. To watch you for a year and then when he gave the command to bring you to him. They did not know what their God wanted with you. They did not complain though anything to please The Scarlet king.

-Present Day-

They strapped you down to the table and woke you up. Drawing the ritual blood onto your naked body. You scream and try to yank away but the binds were too tight. That is when the room went black and so did your memory. Only ten hours later did you come to. Soaked in blood and standing in the middle of a massacre. Unaware of what happened and a dozen police officers pointing guns at you.

It would have been better if they shot you because where you would end up would be a fate far worse than death.

[There we go part one is done, I hope that you all enjoyed this and stay sexy all of my muffins!]

#yandere #yandere scp #yandere scp foundation #yandere scp 001 #yandere scarlet king #scarlet king #scp scarlet king #scp 001 #scp foundation #scp #chosen bride 1 #scarlet king x d class female reader #d class reader #female d class reader

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mldrgrl · 2 years ago

Text

Property of Stella Gibson

by: mldrgrl Rating: PG-13 Pairing: Stella Gibson/Hank Moody Summary: Becca has a new man in her life and Hank will just have to accept it.

Hank dialed Stella’s cell phone for the third time in under ten minutes and his frown deepened when it once again went straight to voicemail. He’d already left two messages and he took a drink of his Coke as he waited through the greeting to leave another.

“This is torture, Sherlock, sheer and utter torture. First of all, it’s Brooklyn. Second of all, the free food and drink options are limited to soft drinks and gluten free crackers with some kind of vegan bean dip. Third of all, I’m standing in front of a photograph of two people sharing an umbrella and it’s actually such a good fucking photograph that I’m infuriated. This kid is so talented it makes me want to kick his ass even more, so all I’m saying is that you better show up soon because in my hangry state of mind I’m bound to do something that would probably have me arrested in at least 49 states. I’m just assuming killing your daughter’s boyfriend is legal in Texas for some reason. Where are you? Call me back.”

Hank hung up the phone and narrowed his eyes at the photograph he was looking at. He took another drink of his Coke and considered the ramifications were he to throw the drink at the display. Becca would probably never speak to him again. Someone in the gallery was also bound to catch it on film with his luck and he’d be going viral on whatever the social media platform du jour was as Crazy Boomer Has Meltdown. He’d be canceled immediately. He missed the good old days when he could be a professional fuck-up and not worry about being held accountable for his actions.

His chest hurt and he pushed a fist against his sternum and belched under his breath. He needed air. He needed his wife. There was a trash can next to the door and he tossed his drink on the way out. He stood on the sidewalk with his hands jammed into his jeans pockets and looked up at squat little brick buildings he was surrounded by that had once been factories, but had been repurposed as lofts and bars and galleries and thrift shops. He closed his eyes against the cacophony of music and voices and sirens. He remembered that his father used to complain about the noise when he’d come to visit, but Hank had never been bothered by it before. He hoped he was just in a mood and not permanently transforming into a cranky, old man.

Hank startled when a small hand slipped into the back right pocket of his jeans, but even before he opened his eyes, he could smell the hint of jasmine perfume and feel silky curls brush his arm and he relaxed.

“I realize that patience was never one of your strong suits,” Stella said. “But, three messages in eight minutes is a bit excessive, don’t you think?”

“You didn’t pick up.”

“I was trapped on the L without service. They all just came through when I came up from the tunnel.”

He turned to her, wrapped her up in his arms and buried his face in her hair so he could nuzzle the side of her head and breathe her in. She still had one hand in his pocket, but her other came up by his hip and her briefcase bumped against his thigh.

“Can we get out of here, Sherlock?”

“Afraid not, love. We promised Becca. Is she inside?”

“Maybe. I haven’t seen her yet.” He let her go slowly and she pulled back to look up at him, running her hand lightly across his backside. He kissed her once on the lips and wiggled the briefcase out of her fingers.

“You’ll survive.”

“I don’t see why we need to show up for this, though.”

“Because, he’s Becca’s lov-”

Hank groaned. “Do not, do not say lover, I may throw up in my mouth.”

“She’s an adult woman in an adult relationship with a man-”

“And don’t say man.” He put up his hand, trying to block Stella’s face from his view. She grabbed it and yanked it down, stepping up close to him so their chests bumped together.

“Stop being so childish about this.”

“You just said it yourself, she’s an adult. She doesn’t need my approval.”

“No, but she would probably like your support.” Stella took her briefcase back from Hank and then put her arm through his to guide him back to the door of the gallery. “Admit it, Becca’s been happier than we’ve seen her for some time. She likes this guy.”

“So,” he muttered, petulantly. “I don’t like him.”

“You refuse to get to know him.”

“I don’t like how they met.”

“You don’t like how they met?” She stopped and turned him towards her. “You’d rather he picked her up in a hotel bar and and she slipped him her room key so he could come up for a quick fuck?”

“Oh my god.” He gagged slightly and threw a hand over his eyes.

“Because I do think asking to photograph one’s dog whilst in the park is a far more appropriate way of meeting one’s partner.”

“Yeah, well…” Hank wanted to respond in some fashion, but he couldn’t really find an argument to make.

“If you’re going to point out that it worked for us, I’ll remind you that neither you or I are Becca or Tony.”

“Thank god for that, I guess.”

“I think you would like him if you gave it a little effort. Just try to think of him as something other than your daughter’s lover.”

Hank tried not to gag again as Stella pulled him through the door. There weren’t many people inside the gallery, just a handful of what had to be close friends or maybe even family. Stella stopped at the coat check to leave her briefcase and then she picked up a slip of paper on the table near the refreshments.

“This says that the proceeds from any sales tonight are going to a non-profit that supports healing from trauma through the arts,” Stella said.

“Mr. Perfect.”

Stella browsed the row of photographs on the first wall, pulling Hank along with her. She seemed to take an interest in one photo in particular of a crowd in Grand Central Station. He’d seen it when he was inside previously, but hadn’t paid too much attention to it. Now that Stella had stopped for it, he could see that the focus was on a couple near the ticket booth, possibly reuniting or possibly saying their goodbyes. It tugged at his emotions a bit. He remembered how melancholy he was on days when he or Stella would have to leave for the airport and he remembered how excited he was to see her again.

“Fuck,” Hank muttered.

“What?” Stella asked.

“Artists.”

The more they browsed, the less turmoil Hank felt. He’d met Tony twice, briefly, and didn’t spend much time attempting to get to know him in any way, but he felt like he was learning about him through the photographs he took. They were all evocative of something sensitive and almost pure.

The last picture in the first row of photographs was of a woman’s arm and a half-covered tattoo. There was a name hidden under her fingers and Hank tilted his head to try to make it out, but it stayed in the shadows of the photo.

“You know I’m thinking about getting another tattoo,” he said.

“Hm?” Stella answered, her head tipped in the same way as his.

“Yeah it’s going to be on my left ass cheek in the shape of a stamp and it’s going to say Property of Stella Gibson.”

She smiled and laced her fingers through his.

“Dad?”

Hank and Stella broke apart to turn around. Becca and Antonio, ‘my friends call me Tony’, were standing behind them. Tony looked nervous, tightly gripping Becca’s hand.

“Daughter.” Hank put his arm around Becca and pulled her into his side for a hug. He nodded at Tony. “Daughter’s…friend.”

Stella held her arms out for Becca and elbowed Hank before she embraced the girl, placing a kiss to both of her cheeks. “Darling,” she said.

Becca stepped back and took Tony’s hand again. “So, what do you think?” she asked.

“You’re good,” Hank said, trying not to grimace. Surprising even himself, he offered his hand to Tony for a handshake. Tony glanced at Becca first and then took Hank’s hand hesitantly, but gave it a firm shake. “Might have to buy that Grand Central one back there.”

“Oh, if you like it, Mr. Moody, I could print one for you, you don’t have to-”

“Hank. And I do like it. And I will buy it.”

“Well…thank you…Hank.”

“It’s for a good cause, right?”

“One I’d be interested in hearing about,” Stella said, holding the slip of paper up between two fingers. “Do you have any literature on this non-profit?”

“I do, actually, I can go and just…”

“I’ll come along.” Stella glanced back at Hank as she escorted Tony away.

Becca seemed to wait until they were out of earshot to eye her father suspiciously. “Are you buying that photo because you like it or are you just trying to prove you’re not an asshole?”

“Oh, I know I’m an asshole, no need to pretend otherwise. I do actually like it. I like all of them. As long as I don’t come across any nudes that I have to convince myself aren’t of you, I’m good.”

“You should skip the back well then.”

Hank felt the blood drain from his face and his stomach flipped. Becca grinned.

“God, dad, Tony’s not like that.”

“Okay.” Hank nodded and pressed his palm to the erratic thumping against his chest while he gripped Becca’s shoulder to steady himself. “Okay.”

“I didn’t think you would actually show up.”

“I said I would.”

“Yeah, but…”

“But, historically I haven’t handled your relationships very well.”

“I’m not a kid. I’m well past needing your permission, you know?”

He almost laughed at how alike they could be. “I know,” he answered, drawing her a little closer so he could cup her cheeks. “But, maybe you might want my support?”

Her eyes went wide before she nodded. He nodded back. He would try to accept someone else in her life, but she was always going to be six-years old to him, explaining to him in all seriousness that she was going to live with him and mommy forever and that they were best friends for always.

“I really like him,” Becca whispered. “He’s kind and he’s patient and he’s gentle and even though we’ve been together for over a month, he’s not even pressuring me to have sex yet, which I-”

Hank sucked in a breath and let Becca go. “Too far.” He waved his hands in front of him and shook his head. “I don’t want to know.”

“Fine.”

“Are you happy?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

They both nodded Hank leaned over to kiss the part in Becca’s hair. He was relieved to see Stella headed back with Tony as the arrival of the two would put a damper on any awkwardness. Becca slipped easily into Tony’s arms and Stella looped her arm through Hank’s again.

Later that night, after they’d taken a Lyft home and after Hank had tested various spots on their walls for their new photo to hang, he found Stella doing her nightly routine in the bathroom and he pressed up behind her as she brushed her teeth over the sink. She was wearing the t-shirt he’d abandoned after they got home and he lightly massaged her breasts as he rutted against her backside in his unbuttoned jeans.

Stella spit a mouthful of toothpaste into the sink and then cleaned her toothbrush, pushing her hips back into Hank’s enticingly. “I’m proud of you,” she said, looking at him in the mirror as she wiped her hands dry.

“You are?”

She nodded and then turned around and put her arms around his neck. He leaned her back into the counter and tipped his head at her.

“Why?” he asked.

“You’re trying not to get in your own way, for once.”

“Hm.” He narrowed his eyes a little. “Please remember that ‘trying’ is the operative word.”

“You’re the one that invited them over to dinner this weekend, so make sure you maintain the effort.”

“I’ll try,” he said, pointedly.

Stella smiled and then she pushed him away from her and gave him a sharp slap to his left ass cheek. He yelped and rubbed his backside.

“What was that for?”

“Because I own your ass and I want it in bed. Now.”

“You could’ve just asked nicely, Sherlock.”

“True, but where’s the fun in that?”

He caught her around the waist and pulled her back into him as she tried to get out of the bathroom ahead of him. “Have I ever told you how happy I am that I walked into that hotel bar and you slipped me your room key for a quick fuck?”

Stella’s wedding ring twinkled in the lamplight as she reached up and took a backwards grip on his neck. “Show me,” she answered.

The End

#i wrote this #hanella #hank moody #stella gibson #don't know where they'd been hiding #but they came out to play today

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kookscrescent · 4 years ago

Text

A Needy, Desperate Fuck Up (m) │ pjm

❒ pairing: jimin x female reader ❒ summary: jimin’s desperation leads to a fuck up. ❒ prompt: "Fuck fuck fuck fuck, that's not fucking good!" and "Fuck! I'm not on the pill!" ❒ rating: nc-17, 18+ ❒ genre: smut, pwp ❒ warnings: unprotected sex, oral sex (female receiving), dirty talk, cursing, accidental creampie, rough sex, multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, choking, crying, Jimin is neeedyyyy for that puzz puzz ❒ word count: 3.1k │ unedited ❒ release date: may 8th 2021 ❒ disclaimer: This is all fiction! Nothing mentioned/written are facts and/or real! So please just keep that in mind when reading and enjoy! Thank you ♡

The door to your bedroom barely has a chance to close properly before Jimin has you pressed flat against the wall. The coldness of the exposed brick wall has goosebumps rising on your rapidly heating skin, and you shudder at the contact.

But you don’t care. All you can think about is the way Jimin feels pressed against your body – the hard panels of his toned chest and abdominal muscles, not to mention his hard length growing against your leg.

You can’t help but moan at the feeling. It’s been way too long since you and Jimin have had sex! He’s been extremely busy with recording for the new album, and his schedule is almost jammed packed every day, and on the rare occasion that he has a few hours of free time, you would much rather have him spend it on catching up on some rest.

But something had come over him the minute he opened your front door and stepped inside. Like you normally would, you’d yelled out a hello to him, letting him know you were in the kitchen, with your hands buried in the dirty dish water as you were cleaning the few dishes you had neglected since the day before. You hadn’t heard him call back a hello to you like he normally would, but you thought he might just be tired and didn’t really think anything of it. However, you did hear him entering the kitchen and stopping just behind you. About to ask him if he was hungry and if he wanted you to make him something, you’d dried your hands on the nearest rag, but you didn’t even manage to get a proper look at him before his hands were in your hair and his lips were claiming yours in a hard kiss.

It took your breath away. Literally. The rag fell to the floor without a sound and without pulling away to question his sudden behavior you grabbed his face in your hands, trying to bring him closer. He took the hint and stepped forward, pushing his chest and pelvis against your body. he was hot and cold at the same time. His clothes cold from the slight breeze outside, but his hands and lips warm and hot against your skin.

Things escalated pretty quickly from that point and you honestly can’t really remember the journey from the kitchen to your bedroom. Every breath you each take is rushed and breathy, and all you seem to recall is hands frantically trying to remove pieces of clothing and said clothing landing haphazardly on the floor in a line behind you. Hard and wet kisses to your lips and neck, and your hands desperately trying to undo the string on Jimin’s joggers.

At this point you’ve both managed to get each other undressed, both of you now lying naked on the bed, Jimin hovering above you, your legs caging him in and his hard cock resting between your soaked folds as he slowly grinds himself against you. Your mouths are a hot mess, lips slipping and sliding over each other and your tongues erotically dancing.

It’s like all hell have broken loose and the both of you have just lost it. You have no idea what has spurred on his sudden desperate need to claim you, but you can’t say that you mind one bit. You’re equally as desperate to have him, not having felt him inside of you for almost three weeks!

Throwing your head back, you groan as the tip of his cock nudge your clit. “Shit, that feels so good!”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah!” You find his eyes, hoping to god he won’t stop moving against you.

He leans down for another kiss. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed your sweet pussy!” He rumbles, lifting to his hands so he can watch his cock effortlessly slid between your folds, your slick coating every thick inch of him. “Fuck, I need to taste you baby.”

With a jerk he moves down your body, your legs automatically parting wider to make room for him. Once settles between your legs, Jimin looks up at you from under lust clouded eyes, his pupils so dark and intense that you become slightly nervous. Pressing a kiss to the juncture of your thigh, he gently and ever so slowly runs the tip of his pointer finger down your slit, collecting your juices before sucking his finger clean.

He groans and you almost dissipate on the spot. His finger returns to your heat as another kiss is pressed to the juncture of your thigh. He repeats his previous action – running his finger down your slit, collecting your arousal, but he stops at your entrance, teasingly circling your hole. He pushes in just an inch before retreating and you mumble a frustrated please. You lock eyes, just as a second finger joins the first and he pushes in all the way to his knuckles.

Your head hits the pillows in a sigh of relief. He pushes in and out of you in a slow and tantalizing rhythm. It has your head swimming, and you need more.

“Please Jimin, please! Don’t tease me.”

“Don’t tease you baby?” he repeats and following with a kiss right above your clit. “Why not?”

Arrogant shit, you think!

“It’s been so long…” you mumble, your voice muffled by the pillows when he begins to pick up the pace. “Make me cum!”

“Hmmm,” he places another kiss above your clit, so close to touching but never enough to give you the relief you want. He begins scissoring his fingers inside of you, and the familiar fire starts in your stomach. “Want me to make you cum with my mouth babygirl?”

You nod frantically! “Yes yes yes ye- ahhhh!” You’re abruptly cut off by the feeling of Jimin’s tongue finally making contact with your clit. He gently licks it – long fat swipes with his warm tongue.

The sounds coming out of you is only spurring him on. Two fingers turn to three and he sucks your clit so violently it has your hips rising from the bed. He easily folds one arm across your lower abdomen, holding you down as he continues to suck.

The fire picks up, and your cries grows louder and louder with each suck of his mouth and each thrust of his fingers. You can’t remember a time where you’ve ever wanted, no needed, to cum so desperately. You can almost taste the release on your tongue. So close.

You can feel how eager Jimin is to make you explode on his tongue as well. He pushes the entirety of his face into your soaked pussy. His tongue working you so feverishly, his nose bumping your sensitive clit.

You grasp at his hair, pushing his face deeper into you and he groans in respond. The vibration sending a wave of tingles through your clit and all the way down to your toes, making them curl. You feel like your brain is no longer connected to the rest of your body, your legs and hips having a life of their own – bucking wildly against his face, trying to reach your high.

Slipping his fingers out of you, he reaches up to press your hips to the bed with both of his hands, making you completely immobilized.

You’re about to whine at the loss of his fingers inside of you, but Jimin is quick to replace them with his fat tongue instead.

“Ah…ah Jimin- oh god!” You moan.

He continues his feast. Slurping and sucking every inch of your wet pussy. You’re so close, so fucking close to cumming, every nerve in your body is on high alert, ready to explode in a fit of euphoria.

Jimin moans between your legs. Loving the way your sweet juices cover his face and tongue. If he’s not careful, the mere taste of you on his tongue combined with the way you sound when you’re losing control, he could probably cum.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop!” You plead, digging your fingers deeper into his scalp, yanking at his hair.

He doesn’t stop. Jimin keeps going, your moaning pleas urging him to go even faster, and he throws his fingers back into the equation. Plunging two fingers into your tight hole and working them at the same fast rhythm as his tongue on your clit.

When your grip on his hair becomes almost too painfully tight, he knows your cumming.

“Shit shit shit shit shit! Ohhhhhhh…!!”

He keeps lapping up every inch of you until he’s sure you’ve ridden out every small inch of your orgasm. Only when your hands fall limply to the bad, does he ease up.

You’re panting, trying to catch your breath as Jimin kisses his way back up your body. He seems just as out of breath as you are, but you can tell that he’s no way near finished with you.

And you would be sourly disappointed if he were.

“God you’re so hot!” Jimin breaths, lips hovering above yours, barely touching. He thumbs your lower lip, drawing it down before flicking his tongue across it. Locking his eyes on yours, he holds your gaze as he works his hips between your legs.

Supporting himself on one elbow, he lets the other arm travel behind your body to roughly grab onto your ass cheek, squeezing it tightly as he grinds his pelvis against you, letting his pelvis rub against your still sensitive clit as his cock is nestled deep inside of you.

Lifting, you reach for his mouth, your breast pressing against his sweaty chest. You whimper into his mouth as he slowly begins drawing back his hips and pushing his cock back inside with a hard thrust. He repeats this several times. Each time pushing a little deeper and thrusting a little harder.

Nibbling at your bottom lip, he whispers, “I’m gonna make you cum so hard on my cock.”

“Please!”

“Would you like that?”

“Yes! God yes!”

He forces one of your legs over his shoulder as he moves to sit on his knees, trapping your remaining leg between his. This automatically causes you to roll to your side, changing the position and making him go deeper.

Fisting the sheets, you hold on for dear life as Jimin begins fucking into you at an almost violent pace. He kisses your shin as he uses your leg as leverage to push himself faster and deeper inside of you.

It’s a bruising pace – hard, fast and rough.

“I-I… Jimin!” You hoarsely call out his name as heat washes through your body and the knot in your stomach begins to tighten.

“Shit! Are you gonna cum baby?” His eyes zero in on the way your pussy swallows his cock so desperately, your wall tightening and sucking him in. “Fuck you’re getting so tight!” He whines almost painfully.

You cry out, your orgasm crashing through you like a volcano erupting. Your entire body is convulsing and tingling with the sweet feeling of the release you’ve missed so much. And even when you’re spend and don’t think you can take much more, Jimin keeps going. He fucks you through the waves aftershocks till they subside, and you feel a new knot of fire starting to form.

Your pussy spasms around his cock and it feels like he’s splitting you open. “Oh my fucking god!”

“Fuck! How do you keep getting tighter?!” He throws his head to the ceiling with a deep growl, his fingers digging into your flesh and he slows down to let your both catch your breath.

“Kiss me please,” you manage to stammer out the few words, needing to feel him close to you again.

With your leg still over his shoulder, he leans down on his elbows till he’s able to slot his lips over yours in a sweet kiss. You claim his mouth, your hands cupping his cheeks as your tongue licking its way inside. It’s wet and messy, and Jimin switches his rhythm to match the pace of the kiss. Slowly, he grinds his hips against yours as your mouths make love. It’s a complete switch of mood from what it was mere seconds ago. But none the less, the know forming in the pit of your stomach keeps on growing.

Jimin pick up the pace once again. Frantically, desperately snapping his hips against yours – the sound of your skin slapping together and the squelch of your juices as the pumps in and out, filling the room.

“Fuck,” he breaths and finds your neck, licking a fat stripe from your ear to the juncture between your shoulder and neck. He bits down softly and your face contorts in pleasure, hands scratching down his sweaty back.

You don’t know how he’s able to keep going like this, but you’re not about to tell him to slow down or stop. Not when the tingling feeling of another orgasm starts spreading through your body. But before the feeling can take full flight, Jimin stops to sit up on his haunches, and you whine loudly.

“Noooo!”

He laughs, running a hand through his thick wet locks. “Don’t worry babygirl. I’ve got you.”

And he does. He doesn’t waste a beat and immediately pick up where he left. He spreads your legs wide, his eyes focusing on the way he sinks his cock into your sweet heat, the way you drink up every inch of him. The sight nearly makes him cum on the spot and he has to concentrate real hard not to blow his load inside already. He’s not done with you yet!

Having gone so long without being inside of you, he’s not ready for this to be over!

“Jimin- ah ah ahhhhh- hnnng!” Your back arches off the bed as the crown of his cock rubs against your sweet spot. Jimin responds with his hand on your throat, putting just the right amount of pressure. You can feel your eyes tearing up at the intense amount of pleasure running through your body, he’s everywhere! You can feel him everywhere! And you don’t know how much more you’ll be able to take, feeling spend and used after 2 orgasms already.

“Baby please,” you beg him teary eyed. “Need you to cum!”

Jimin shakes his head, his hair falling over his eyes as determination takes over his features. “Gonna make you cum again!” he rasps, throwing his other hand into the mix as well – using his thumb to draw harsh circles on your clit.

Your hips buck against his touch and the fire in your stomach intensifies to the point of pain. “I-I can’t…” you sob, and you desperately try to find something to grab onto, eventually settling on Jimin’s thighs, your nails digging into his skin. You’re sure that will leave a mark in the morning.

“Yes you can!” Jimin growls, teeth biting into his bottom lip and he begins pounding into your so ruthlessly and desperately. He fucks you so hard and fast, that you’re almost positive that the bed will break.

He squeezes your throat a little harder, making the tears stream down your cheeks – wetting the pillow below you.

“Fucking cum! Cum around my cock baby!” he breathes, leaning down to kiss the tears from your cheeks.

The slight change in position, has his cock reaching so deep inside of you. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull, fingers clawing into Jimin’s back – trying to hold on for dear life as he pounds you to your third orgasm for the night.

“Jimi- fuck…ahhhhhh!” you cry hoarsely, as you cum so hard that spots start dancing in front of your eyes and your breath catches in your throat when Jimin tighten his hold on your throat the slights bit – adding fuel to your already too intense pleasure.

“That’s it,” he grunts, continuing his abuse and fucking you through your orgasm, now chasing his own as well.

“Oh my god, please!”

You’re so desperate to feel him fall apart, to feel him lose control as much as you are. Wrapping yourself around him, you pull him as close as possible, your hands grasping his ass, pushing and pulling him towards you and your hips matching him thrust for thrust.

“Yesssss! Fuck ____, just like that. Just like that,” he chants, and you cry out in relief when you feel his muscles tensing up under your fingers and his cock twitching inside of you as he cums in hot spurts.

He continues to swirl his hips slowly as you both come down from your high. He finds your lips, placing small, sweet pecks of love over and over again as you both try to find your breath.

“That was…” you mumble against his lips.

He cracks a smile, “It was.”

Eventually Jimin stops moving completely, just lying on top of you with his arms caging you in and his hands running lovingly through your sweat soaked hair. You really need a shower before you go to bed. But you stay like that for what feels like an eternity. Just kissing and touching each other. You’re pretty sure you won’t be able to move once you have to get out of bed, your legs feeling completely numb. But at this rate, you’re not even sure you want to get out of bed at all – the way Jimin feels on top of you, his weight pressing you down, the way his cock feels inside of you and his warm cum still filling your-

“Did you come inside of me?” you ask him abruptly, your eyes going as big as saucers.

He looks down to where your bodies are connected, confused for a second. “Did I? I guess I did.”

“Jimin!” You begin to panic, your voice going up an octave. “Fuck! I’m not on the pill!”

Jimin’s entire body stiffens upon hearing your words. “What?!” He still asks, not sure he heard you right.

“I’m not on the pill right now!”

“What? Why? You’ve always been on the pill!” He says, sitting up and pulling out of you. You wince at the slight sting he leaves behind from pounding you so thorough and good.

“Yes, but remember last month when I had my doctor’s appointment because I was having really bad cramps? She told me to stop taking them for a while to see how my body would respond! I clearly remember telling you this and that you needed to wear condoms!”

“WHAT?!” he practically screeches in disbelief, watching as his cum slowly leaks out of your abused entrance. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck, that’s not fucking good!”

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whumpwritings · 2 years ago

Text

Chapter 4 - A Reminder

In which the guards express some opinions and we finally get some proper whump (check the warnings!)

Kas & Alec. Masterpost here.

Story Summary: arranged marriage/mail order bride meets pet whump. Dubious caretaking. Some supernatural elements (werewolf caretaker). After a disastrous first arrangement, Kas is desperate to make his second chance (and last hope) work. But the training from his first master runs deeper than he realized.

Word Count: 1038

Warnings: Heavily implied (but not described) noncon. Manhandling, choking, 'it' as a pronoun, verbal abuse and threats

In retrospect, Kasper should have expected trouble. The guards never forgot a slight. He should have been braced for it. Instead, he was shocked awake from where he was trying to doze on his cot by the door banging open.

“Contraband check!” Came the singsong call as hands grabbed him up roughly.

Kas barely had time to blink the sleep from his eyes before he was being body slammed against the unfinished brick wall. An arm came up to press against his throat, hard enough that he went completely still lest it become worse.

Kas blinked up into the red face of Lt. Anders, lead guard for the night duty. He smiled unpleasantly.

Behind him two other guards were tossing the room. They made a show of throwing his few belongings to the floor and flipping the mattress. He had so little, it probably should have been comical. Contraband was a farce in this room, and they all knew it. That changed nothing.

Another guard stood just outside the room, leaning against the wall of the hallway, and watching with a smirk on his ferret-like face. Kas recognized him as the guard from the light show entrance, but he still didn’t know his name.

Kas struggled to get a breath past the forearm pushing against his throat. The pressure behind his eyes built painfully and he wondered if he would burst a blood vessel. Anders peered into Kas’ face, taking his time examining him as he gagged.

“I hear you’ve been getting above yourself, little one. Trapsing around, attending entertainments with your betters.” He leaned a bit more pressure on Kas’ windpipe, making him choke reflexively. Kas desperately wanted to shake his head, deny this, beg for mercy. But he couldn’t move his head at all, pinned as he was against the wall.

Besides, it was true, wasn’t it? Hadn’t he done just that?

“And with a VIP no less,” the guard from the light show casually threw in from his position leaning against the wall. “Tsk tsk.”

Lt. Anders smiled. “When will you give up these pathetic dreams? No one is going to want you. You’re embarrassing yourself. Soon enough the clock will run out on this little experiment the Guild Masters are running and you’ll become the plaything we all know you really are.”

Kas’ eyes watered as he struggled to suck a breath past that pressure on his throat. Air. He needed air.

“Now, little one, I’ll give you one chance. What do you have to say for yourself?” He released Kas abruptly, leaving him to sag down the rough brick wall, scrapping the skin off his back as he went.

“Please,” Kas gasped, “it wasn’t… like that. H-he just…picked me. It w-was a last minute thing. I think he didn’t like the consort he had, so he just grabbed me at random. I-I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Kas looked up at the captain from under his fringe, his eyes wide and pleading. “P-please, sir, you know I can’t say no to them. I’m…I’m supposed to do whatever they want. H-he just…he…”

Anders’ hand shot out and gripped Kas by the hair. Kas yelped as he was forcibly pulled upright. Anders yanked his head back until Kas’ neck wrenched. “A likely story. Tell me, little one, what is the House policy on damaged goods?”

Tears ran down Kas’ face as he sniffled.

“Say it.”

“N-no…no damaged goods on d-display.”

“Hmph,” Anders snorted as he released Kas’ hair. Kas hung his head and tried to glance at the others guards from under his curls. They hadn’t moved, but they were grinning. Enjoying the show.

“It’s a travesty they let something like you on the floor at all, broken like you are. No amount of discount would be worth dealing with you, in my opinion. But maybe the good masters think they can offload you onto some unsuspecting shmuck. It wouldn’t be the first time they’ve managed to pawn off useless goods.”

“Well,” drawled the guard from the light show, “perhaps not entirely useless. There’s got to be some reason to keep it alive…”

His eyes wandered over Kas’ body. Kas tried not to visibly tense under his gaze.

Anders reached out and grabbed Kas by the back of the neck. His hand was heavy, his grip too tight for comfort, but not tight enough to bruise. Yet.

“You know,” he lowered his voice, “all it would take would be for us to arrange a little accident for you. It wouldn’t need to be much. A broken bone or two. A couple of weeks for the bruising to go down. A few weeks in isolation, away from the show floor. Say, how long is your VIP’s trip again? Be a shame if you missed it. I’m sure he’d move on quickly, of course. But all the same…”

Kas’ gaze flicked desperately from one guard to another, looking for any kind of out. All he found were eager expressions and wolfish grins.

“Here’s what I think,” Anders continued in his low, even voice. “I think you ought to demonstrate you haven’t forgotten your place. A show of good faith, as it were. You say it was a fluke he picked you. I can believe that. No one would choose you on purpose after all. So long as it doesn’t go to your head, we don’t need to have a problem.”

Kas tried desperately to nod. Anything.

It was made easier when Anders abruptly released his neck and took a step back. His hands went to his zipper, his eyes heavy with intent.

“Why don’t you get on your knees and show us all that you remember your place? It’s the only thing you’re good for after all. Best we remind you.”

Kas slid to his knees in what felt more like a controlled fall than a real choice. He couldn’t take his eyes off of Anders’ self-satisfied smirk, even as the others crowded in, closing the door behind them.

“Soon enough the clock will run out for you, and this will be all you do. Best you get used to it,” Anders said, looming above him. Kas opened his mouth obediently, his mind already emptying.

He’s right.

***

A/N: Thanks for reading! Let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list :)

(if you change your mind and would like to stop being tagged, you can also just shoot me a message. I don't mean to spam anyone. I will try not to take it personally lol)

Tag List:

@whumpzone @whuarri @no-terms-and-conditions-apply @whumpcreations @maracujatangerine @whumpsday @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @whumpy-butterflies @whumping-snail @mudpuddlenl

#kas and alec #whump #whump stories #whump writing #original fic #original fiction #whump community #whumplr #alec and kas #tw noncon #tw violence #tw it as a pronoun #tw choking

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tacticaldiary · 3 years ago

Text

Pull The Trigger

Pairing: Reader x Dazai Osamu

Genre: Hurt/Comfort; Angst

He doesn’t want to make her do this, it’s the last thing he wants. He knows what it’s like to have blood on his hands and he wants to keep hers pure...unfortunately, that isn’t an option right now.

Masterlist

“Darling, look at me.” His voice is calm and commanding, steady in contrast to the quick thumping of her heart. “Breath...we’ll be okay.”

A dingy basement, a mistake on her part. They had gotten caught by a rival organisation. Y/N and Dazai had been sent out together on a simple scouting mission, to investigate recent activates near the outskirts of the city.

One false tip, Y/N leading the operation. One slip up and here they were, in a damp basement, hands tied behind their back, waiting for their captors to come back and probably interrogate them.

She couldn’t seem to catch her breath.

“I-I am breathing!” She exclaims, clenching her eyes shut when she hears a small huff from Dazai.

“I meant breath properly.” His voice is calming, washing over her and prompting her to listen. She tries to relax and breath, long drawn out breaths.

“There you go, love. Feeling better?” He’s so calm in this situation, but she can’t say she’s really surprised. After 3 years of dating the idiot, she knows too much about how he deals with these things.

“...Yeah.” She leans back onto the wall, letting her head tip back and hit the bricks. They were seated side by side. “As much as one can feel ‘better‘ in this situation...”

“Ah, I wouldn’t worry too much. I’m here, after all.” She hums in response. The rope itches and digs into her wrists and she, experimentally, wriggles her hands.

She feels something give.

“Osamu...” It’s said quietly and when he glances over, she gently waves her hands, now freed.

“Well that makes this much easier! We won’t need to use the crowbar-” He cuts himself off when he hears footsteps approaching.

Not one pair or even two like he’d expected. It sounds like more than 5 or 6 pairs. This wasn’t good. Sighing, he shakes his head, tugging on his own restraints. They do not give.

“Guess they underestimated you...how rude.” As the footsteps grow nearer, he catches her eyes.

“Darling, can I ask you to reach into my pocket?” She doesn’t argue, slipping her hand into his coat until she feels something cool. “Mind keeping that handy?”

Her mouth goes dry when she pulls out a switchblade.

“I can’t...I’ve never-”

“I know, I know.” There’s a serious edge to his voice and his eyes show something akin to regret. “You don’t have enough time to cut me free, and if things go for the worst, well. I’m more than confident in your abilities to fight.” His voice is urgent but his smile is genuine.

She’s never made anyone bleed before. Y/N barely has time to slip the knife in her own pocket before the door creaks open and a bunch of men walk in. She can practically feels the air go cold.

“A bit rude to keep your guests waiting, don’t you think?” Not many people would’ve picked it up, but Dazai’s tone is cold and calculating, that same effortless mask that he uses so often. It’s terrifying to witness it slip back into place firsthand, as the man who’d just coached her to calm her breathing disappears.

“You’re in no position to talk.” The ‘leader‘, or who she assumes to be the boss spits out. She grits her teeth and holds her tongue, knowing Dazai would keep his cool better than he would. The man strides over and kneels down in front of her boyfriends, who’s lazily smiling like he’s not tied up.

The man grabs a fistful of his hair and yanks, bringing them eye to eye.

“It’s your fault half my men are arrested. You and your shitty agency.” A sharp smack echoes through the air as his fist collides with Dazai’s face.

Dazai’s response is silence...before a smile stretches across his face, accompanied by a huff of amusement. “Weak...if the boss can’t throw a punch, there’s no hope for his organisation, don’t you think?” He says thoughtfully.

It earns him another blow to the face, this one hard enough to elicit a small grunt.

She knows what he’s doing and it jars her suddenly. He’s drawing attention to himself, keeping them occupied with his insolence so they don’t turn to her. They probably still think she’s harmless, what with how she’s only gotten lazy glances since they entered the room.

She knows what he’s trying, but she can’t stand it, as the man punches Dazai again.

“He’s right. You need 5 other men to deal with two tied up people? What, you’re afraid? Need support to face us?” She knows she’s made things worse for herself when the attention of everyone in the room turns to her.

She only meets Dazai’s eyes for a second, and there’s a well masked disapproving glint in his eyes and...is that worry she detects? She doesn’t have time to properly dissect it, before the boss stands in front of her, abandoning his post near Dazai.

“The hell did you just say?” He scowls and with a flick of his wrist, dismisses his other men. He speaks again once the three of them are alone. “And who exactly are you, hmm?” sharp kick sends her sprawling to her side with a groan, her hands still held still behind her back. “My men simply grabbed you because you were with him.” He glances back at Dazai.

“You have no inherent value to me-” he pauses for a second, and his next line makes Y/N’s blood go cold.

“You’re expendable, and more likely to blab than that bastard over there...I wonder.” Before she can sit up and respond, Dazai is thrown to the ground in front of her, on his stomach. She watches with dread as the man takes out a pocket knife and kneels next to him.

Dazai, to his credit, does not seem fazed at all. “You really need to learn how to treat your guests better..” The knife’s blade is cold against his neck.

Y/N feels a little sick. They hadn’t planned for this...she should’ve kept her mouth shut, she should’ve-

“Why were you lurking near our base? What information do you have in us. Answer me, or this fucker dies here and now.”

Dazai knows this man will kill him. He doesn’t seem smart enough to bluff or pull off something surprising. He vaguely finds himself wondering if this was how he was going to go...

He catches her terrified gaze and realises with a start that no...not like this. Not for himself, but for her. He wouldn’t leave her with the last memory of him getting his throat spilt open. Not her.

“Let him go. Now.” Her voice is shaky and not at all commanding.

Ah. Dazai knows she’s not the best person to deal with situations like this. Her speciality was stealth and quite strategy, not hands on in the field. She often worked alongside Ranpo and himself on occasions. It’s hat made them work so smoothly. She seemed to ajust to his thinking instantaneously, catching onto his schemes and reasons quicker than anybody. It’s what made her really catch his eyes. Someone who could keep up with him.

It’s fair to say she isn’t coping well.

“You don’t have the upper hand. Start talking.” The knife digs deeper and he doesn’t wince when he feels stinging.

The small amount of blood that stains the knife as it nicks his skin seems to be a trigger. The next few seconds are quick and unexpected.

One minute, the guy is over Dazai, the next, he’s on the ground, Y/N having sprung up from her position on the floor and pinned him down with a grip on his wrists. The knife goes clattering across the room. It shocks the man, who’s not expecting her to be free, but in the end the advantage goes to him.

He’s bigger and bulkier.

He throws her off and grabs her by the hair and yanks. Dazai feels utterly useless as he watches them scuffle back on forth. Ropes aren’t something he can lockpick and these assholes seem to have known to be cautious with their knots. He cannot unpick it. He’s helpless to watch, eyes steely and mouth set in a firm line as the man pins her down.

The grin on his face is manic, as he jeer at her, the love of his life, the only person he’ll ever want and Dazai wills his body to move, to work.

Suddenly there’s silence. A body slumps to the floor and Dazai’s heart sinks as he realises what’s happened.

Y/N sits up, breathing harshly. the pocket knife in her hand is gone, imbedded into the chest of the man. She’s trembling as she watches the life drain out of him, cussing and swearing.

“Y/N?” His voice snaps her out of it and she quickly shuffles over to him, untying the knots and helping him sit up. Dazai’s hands are on her on an instant, looking her over for injures. He relaxes when he finds her relatively unharmed.

“Love, I-”

He doesn’t get to complete the thought, as she quickly scrambles away and heaves onto the floor, acrid bile and today’s lunch coming up. Dazai’s at her side, muttering words of praise and reassurance, rubbing her back.

“I-...I just, Osamu I didn’t-” She trembling, voice cracking and shaky. “I killed someone, I- oh god-” She looks at the man...corpse on the floor and feels another wave of nausea.

Dazai grabs her chin, gently guiding her gaze away from there and towards him.

“It had to be done. There was no other way.”

“But-”

“No. Listen to me, love.” She can tell he’s serious, his tone firm and determined to make her understand. “It was either him or us. You did what you needed to to protect us, alright?” He waits until she nods to lower his hand from her face and embrace her.

He can feel her trembling like a leaf and he swears to never put her in such a situation again if he can help it.

“I can’t...there’s blood...” He pulls away a little, finding her staring at her bloodstained hands. He feels a wave of anger and frustration, not towards her of course, but towards knowing what she’d have to face and live with.

“I didn’t wish to put you in this situation ever.” His hand cups her face and she leans into the touch, a hand coming up to clutch the front of his clothes.

The shake of her head prompts him to raise an eyebrow. Her next words warm his heart, despite the situation.

“I’m glad you’re safe. I wanted you to be safe.”

Dazai Osamu has killed countless. He’s arranged deaths and felt life slip away beneath his fingertips. There’s always been part of him that relishes it. He understands the he’s...different. Unfazed. Colder than most.

This beautiful person in front of him is like a warm ray of sunshine, a breath of fresh air. He never wanted her to feel the same empty feeling of guilt that accompanies most when killing, not her.

It’s all her can do but nod and hold her. Mumbled assurances in her ear. Getting out of here should be simple now, so he chooses to focus on her.

He regrets the knowledge that her hands are no longer pure.

(18/09/2021)

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demonsandmischief · 4 years ago

Text

You Saved My Life

Marvel - Captain America Imagine

Steve Rogers x Female Reader, 1.7k Words

-You Saved My Life-

Imagine you save Captain America's life while he is trying to save yours.

A/N: I dunno when this would take place in the Marvel world. I guess you could say it's my own AU. It's a long one but I like it. I hope you do too.

----

There are a lot of things life prepares you for, but the end of the world is not one of them.

You were covering your best friend's shift at a cafe that she owned. You had a full time job as a teacher, but the school was on a holiday, and you were always willing to help your friend. Normally, she'd have managers do the day to day runnings, but there was a scheduling conflict that lined up perfectly with your free day.

You did love the little place. It was small and home-y, nestled between some larger buildings of the city.

It was after the lunch rush when it happened. You were wiping down menus when a large blast that felt like an earthquake rattled the whole shop. The glass door shattered with the impact.

That's when the screaming started. It was loud and chaotic, as throngs of people ran away from whatever had just exploded.

The customers that were in the cafe rushed out in a panic. They could see something out of the large windows that you couldn't from behind the counter.

You moved closer, hesitantly, not sure what to expect, and you were definitely not prepared.

There were large, robotic creatures wreaking havoc in every direction. You could hear their banshee like screeches that echoed in your ears, but it couldn't be louder than the intense blood rushing as your adrenaline began to flow.

Your protective, teacher instincts kicked in when you saw the young group of kids huddled in the alleyway. They were almost out of view, but you noticed. You always noticed the children. They attracted your energy naturally.

You took notice of the daycare bus still running. It looked like the driver had just abandoned them. Intense anger only fueled the instincts.

You saw the way one of the creatures eyed the group and you scrambled to grab something to defend them.

You didn't have much. You decided on a chair, thankful for your nimble frame that was able to get outside unnoticed.

The kids caught sight of you immediately, but you held a shaky finger to your lips, telling them to be quiet.

You swung the chair with all your might, hitting the thing with a sickening crunch. It faltered for a moment, stumbling forward. You were left with pieces of broken wood, the splintered edges digging into your skin.

"Get inside," you yelled to the group, watching them scramble. At least the robot thing was focused on you, and you prayed that each little boy and each little girl made it home tonight.

You knew you were the only person standing between the cafe and the monster, and you wouldn't go with them to safety for risk of this thing following you into the shop.

Your heart thudded painfully in your chest as your eyes searched for any kind of defense. Instead, you found more creatures and no help.

This thing was ugly up close. It was metallic like a robot, but had blood red eyes, eyes that were staring right at you.

It opened it's mouth to screech into the sky, a snake like tongue curling out. It was cut off by a flash of color in the haze of dirt and debris, but you recognized it immediately. Captain America's shield.

The man himself appeared, standing tall and proud, but you could tell he was winded. You had never been so relieved, as you relaxed a bit, just wanting to melt into the ground with exhaustion.

Steve yanked out his shield, giving it an expert throw, destroying the other visible creatures.

His blue eyes stood out beneath his cowl.

"Ma'am," he nodded. "Are you hurt?" he asked.

"No," you whispered with a shake of your head, wiping your sweaty, bloody hands on your jeans. "But there's kids in there "

He nodded, repeating the information into his com device.

"We'll get them to safety, and you, too. This is no place you want to be. Every civilian has taken shelter in the metro underground. Do you know how to get there from here?"

"Yes, but it's like two blocks," you said. There was no way you could get the kids there without being noticed.

"I'll go with you then, but we need to move quickly. Let's go." He left no room for argument, so you entered the cafe to gather the huddled group.

Their fear struck you, wide eyes and silent sobs. There were probably twenty of them, all different ages. The youngest was probably about six.

"Captain America is going to get you guys somewhere safe," you told them, as reassuring as possible, even though you didn't feel that way.

You led the group as the captain guarded the back. The pace was quick, and eerily quiet. You imagined the tall man had warned the other Avengers to keep the area as clear as possible. You had caught a brief glimmer of Iron Man's metallic suit in the sky.

You had just ushered the kids down the stalled escalator and into safety when you heard a grunt of pain.

You turned to find six more of the robotic creatures surrounding Cap. You could tell he was wearing down as one of them pulled his arms back, rendering him powerless and unable to grab his shield. He kicked the things with all his might, but there were too many of them.

You didn't know what to do. You were exhausted and there was no way you could help. You couldn't even take out one by yourself with a chair.

It wasn't until one of the creatures pulled out a long dagger looking thing, already dripping with someone else's blood that you moved.

Your instincts didn't let you hesitate as you ran to tackle the thing, the knife in turn digging painfully in your upper shoulder, dangerously close to your neck.

You felt the cry leave your dry, cracked lips as you crumbled to the ground, squeezing your eyes shut.

You heard the creature snarl at you before you felt a jolt of hot pain in your ribs. It felt like a boot, but who knows.

Your vision doubled as you saw the metallic shield take out the group once more. You sagged in the rubble as the adrenaline left your body. It felt like buckets of blood were running from your shoulder down the curve of your breast, mixing with the pain in your ribs. You were certain death couldn't be much worse then this.

Steve couldn't believe you saved his life. He was foolish to let his guard down, but you were a distraction. You protected those kids with a fearlessness that reminded him of himself.

He heard over coms that Tony had found the source for these creatures and the fight was coming to a close. He wished he could have been there for his team, but the people came first, especially those kids.

He pressed a hand to your shoulder, cursing when he saw how much blood you were losing. He searched aimlessly for something to stop the blood.

"Your six, Captain," you manage to mutter throught the pain, not failing to notice the final of the robotic things sneaking up on the distracted man.

He kicked a stray car door effortlessly, squashing the creature against the brick building.

"We're going to get you help. You're going to be okay."

That was the last thing you heard before you passed out.

----

There was a pesky beeping that was disturbing your rest. You assumed it was your alarm, until the pain hit you full force, and you remembered the events that took place. Were you dead?

Your eyes opened, and you groaned at the harsh light, blinking rapidly to adjust. Your mouth felt like it was full of sand.

The sterile smell and blinding white walls immediately told you it was a hospital, but what stood out was the dozing man still dirty from battle. His blue suit stood out against the white.

His eyes opened when you stirred, and you noticed the blue eyes that you were beginning to like. His blonde hair was matted from the cowl, and he looked terribly uncomfortable in the small chair.

"How are you feeling?" he asked gently, his deep voice much softer than the commanding tone he used as captain.

You struggled to sit up. The pain in your shoulder not allowed you to use your hand as leverage, and your ribs didn't like the jostle.

"Don't do that," he said, lightly using his hand to keep you from moving. He pushed the button on the side that allowed the bed to lift without you having to change position.

He helped you drink some water before you were finally able to respond.

"How long have I been out?" you ask.

"Just a few hours," Steve responded. "You saved my life, and those kids, too." He shook his head in disbelief.

You felt your face grow hot at his words, not knowing how to respond. "I'm sure you are exhausted. You didn't have to stay."

"I had to make sure you were okay," he admitted. "I'm Steve."

"Y/N." You tried to smile at his cute pleasantries, but winced at the persistent throbbing in your shoulder. "Is it bad?"

"I'm sure a tough girl like you can handle it. The doctor should be in here in a minute to tell you details," he answered.

The doctor told you that your ribs were broken and your stab wound was deep but no longer life threatening after they stopped the blood. It was going to take a while to recover.

You dozed off, and it must have been a long time because when you awoke the second time, the room was covered in flowers. A stack of cards sat on your table, and you rose the bed again to reach for them.

A swell of happy emotions built up inside of you as you read the sweet words of the kids you saved. It was so relieving to know they were okay.

"You're a hero," Steve said from the door, this time in jeans and a blue jacket. He was handsome.

You wiped the fallen tears off of your cheek. "I'm nothing but a teacher."

"You're a hero to me," he smiled slightly, and a warm feeling bloomed in your chest.

----

Here's Pt. 2

#captain america imagine #captain america #steve rogers fluff #captain america x reader #captain America x you #iron man #avengers imagine #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #chris evans #marvel imagine #marvel one shot #marvel

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diamond-coral · 3 years ago

Text

The Heist (part 3/finale)

Steve x Reader

Chapter summary: Captain’s plan worked. Now you’re in for a lot of trouble after trying to break into his apartment. He’ll have you. Just like he wanted.

Warnings: 18+, explicit sex, dark, rape/non-con, forced orgasm, praise and degradation kink, kidnapping, mentions of strip club, mentioned anal, swearing, mild violence, slight Stockholm

“You wanna be treated like a whore?” he seethed. “Fine. I’ll treat you like a whore.”

Steve wrenched you from the wall and let you fly back toward his bed, your feet tripping over themselves as well as the chain attached to the cuff secured around your ankle before you finally tumbled onto the mattress. Your breathing was heavy as you glared back at his cerulean eyes which were narrowed, daring you to try anything.

And you did. Because fuck if you weren’t going down without a fight.

You darted out to the right, arm reaching out to take grip of the lamp on his nightstand. You grabbed hold of it and pivoted your body around as your arm flung out toward his head. Steve simply intercepted the hit with a firm grasp, and you gritted your teeth as the two of you began an aggressive tug of war for the lamp.

“Stop. This. Now,” Steve scolded as if you were a child before giving a sharp tug, the lamp slipping out of your hand.

“No thanks.” You grinned, catching him off guard, before you grabbed both his shoulders as support and kneed him in the groin. Hard.

Steve let out a pained groan. He dropped the lamp, and you caught it by the handle before using all your strength to swing the base against his head like a baseball bat. He stumbled backwards while his hand reached up near his temple. He pulled it back and inspected the blood. You remained frozen, having hoped that the blow would have at least knocked him out. His broad figure compromised your escape route to the door of his bedroom, so running was not an option.

“We need to fix this fuckin’ attitude of yours,” he grumbled, and while you were lost in your predicament of all escape routes being impossible, he snatched the lamp, this time breaking it in half like a toothpick before tossing both ends over his shoulder to the opposite side of the room. “I wanted a kind and docile housewife. Not some ungrateful bitch.”

He practically pounced on you, and you fought, pushing against his brick wall of body, before relenting with the knowledge he was far too strong for you.

“Well you’ve got the wrong person, buddy-pal,” you quipped, but your voice trembled in your compromised position..

“No. I don’t. Because I’ve already seen her, you, at the club. And I don’t know why the hell you gotta give me some attitude when I’m trying to save you from the shitshow of a life you’re livin’. Maybe you’re just scared. Scared of letting someone take care of you when you’ve been fighting for yourself for so long, so you put on the unappreciative bitchy exterior.”

Was this man serious? How delusional did he have to be to think all of that after one encounter?

“Well guess what,” he whispered, face so close to you that his breath fanned over you. “I’ll fucking rip it apart. I’ll break you down. Shatter this pathetic wall you have up until I get back the girl at the club. Might take a couple good fuckings, but I’ll finally get it out of you.” His thumb stroked your cheek, brushing away the tears that had shed at his admissions. “Aww, baby, don’t cry,” he cooed. “This is for the best.”

You let out a small whimper, another round of tears flowing, at the sound of his belt unbuckling and fly coming undone.

You began pounding against his chest and begged him not to.

You wouldn’t go down without a fight.

Easily holding you down, Steve let out a stuttered moan as he entered you slowly. You begging turned into sounds of agony as he stretched you out and filled you like no other had before.

“I wanted our first time time to be special. Slow and loving,” he confessed as he stilled inside of you. He slowly pulled out before slamming his hips back in and muffling your shriek with a large hand. “Gotta say, this is still pretty special though. Might just love those big watery doe eyes lookin’ at me a little more than that cute smile of yours. You just look so pretty, all wrecked and crying for me, doll.” He moved his hand slightly aside to lick a strip of your tear stained cheek, letting out a hum of approval.

You thrashed under him, hands lashing out until one of his own came to wrangle both wrists above your head, so you resorted to bucking your hips in hopes of throwing him off. It was hopeless.

But you wouldn’t go down without a fight.

The hand covering your mouth moved down to hold you hip down in a bruising grip. He just rutted into you harder and faster in response to your outburst.

You couldn’t bring yourself to make a noise. The searing of your walls was slowly melting into pleasure. You feared accidentally letting a moan slip and alerting Steve to your pleasure.

But Steve could tell how you enjoyed it. Although tears flowed freely from your eyes, your pussy squelched, the sound blending in with the clapping of skin each time he drove into you.

“Told you. I’d fuck you. Like a whore,” He managed to get out between thrusts. “And you fuckin’ love it too.” He let out a dark chuckle. “God you’re such a slut.”

You whined as he pulled out when he flipped you over, but he made up for it by beginning to drill into you harder than before. With every brutal thrust, his cock glided against your g-spot before the tip punched against your cervix, and your eyes rolled back into your head.

Steve roped your hair around his palm and yanked your head back. Your back arched painfully to accommodate.

“Tell me you’re a slut. Tell me your my slut. Only mine. Only for me. Not that stupid fuckin’ club. Mine.”

“N-no. No,” you stuttered, barely being able to form words. You wouldn’t let him have his victory. You wouldn’t give it to him and bend to him.

Because you wouldn’t go down without a fight.

He once again yanked your hair, this time using the momentum to bring your body flush against him. His other arm came to wrap around your waist, and he secured your back to him, never once letting up on fucking you. The new angle made your body light on fire, and a moan escaped past your lips.

“Say it. Say you’re my slut and I’ll let you cum.”

You wouldn’t. You still had some dignity left. You’d be strong. You’d-

“Oh fuck, I’m your slut. Please let me cum. Please, please, I need it so bad. I’m your fucking slut! Only yours Steve!” you cry out. Humility and pleasure both burned your body.

“Atta girl,” he grunted, quickening his pace. “Cum now. Cum all over my cock.”

You did just that. Your cunt clenched around his cock while you gushed around him. Pleasure constricted around your entire body like fire.

“Good little whore. All mine,” Steve chanted, but you barely heard him. All you could think about was Steve and his cock. You shattered. Your mind, your body, your will, all shattered to a million pieces.

________________________________________________________________

You sigh, smoothing down the flowy pink skirt that stopped right about your knees. That was all six months ago but it felt like years. Steve made good on his word. Here you were, the good little docile housewife, waiting for him to return home from a mission that had taken him three days, a home cooked meal sitting on the table. Waiting to be devoured by the ravenous man who would return. Just like you.

You didn’t even attempt to escape this time. The first time you had managed to shatter the living room window with a lamp (ironic, huh?) while Steve was in the bathroom. You had made it down the fire escape before he intercepted you in the alley and dragged you quietly back to the apartment with a gun concealed between your bodies. When you got inside, Steve brutally took your virgin asshole. The second time, you tried the same thing, but Steve caught you before you even stepped foot out the window. After replacing the glass with a new bulletproof material from S.H.I.E.L.D., he starved you for five days, only allowing you water. He still made you cook for him though. It was a cruel joke to him, watching you make him a meal while your stomach was about to eat itself. He’d fuck you hard after, and your body felt like it’d break in half.

The third time was three months after that. You’d managed to gain his trust enough to let him take you for a walk in the park, and after a knee to the groin, you took off and hid yourself in a crowd of people. It wouldn’t be a good image for Captain America to be hunting down an innocent girl on the streets of New York. You managed to be away from him for almost 24 hours, but you couldn’t go to the police. After telling them you were a stripper that broke into Captain America’s apartment, you highly doubt they’d believe the rest of your story.

You were in the grocery store with some stolen cash when Bucky Barnes finally caught you. He muttered a couple words about how pretty Bella was and how he’d hate to put a bullet through her pretty head, and you followed him like a dog back to Steve’s building. Steve, as a thank you to Bucky and a punishment for you, let Bucky fuck you for hours till you passed out with his metal hand around your neck.

You smile to yourself, hoping Steve would be happy that you remained compliant and would be there to greet him as he returned home.

The sound of a lock turning snaps you out of your thought, and your head turns to the door as Steve enters.

“Sweetheart!” you say as you throw yourself on him, hands intertwined behind his neck.

“Hi honey,” he greets, smiling down at you, taking in the sight before he leans down to give you a peck on your painted red lips. You almost frown at your eagerness to return it. Almost. But your interest is directed toward Steve as he reaches into a paper shopping bag. “Got you a little something. Know how much you love to paint.”

He pulls out a set of brushes, showing them to you, before handing you the entire bag. You look inside and gasp. So many colors and canvases. This was your life before he had trapped you, and here he was, giving you a piece of it back.

“Steve, I don’t even know how to thank you,” you begin. “I-”

Steve cuts you off with a deep kiss.

“Anything for my girl. Besides I figured you could use some practice.”

“For what?” you ask.

“Well, I bought us a house!” he announces, grinning. “That implant of yours will be wearing off in a couple months, and I’d love for you to paint a mural in the nursery. For our baby.”

#dark!steve x reader #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark!steve

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago

Text

Compromise | dark!Bucky Barnes x reader

summary: after weeks in bucky barnes’ basement, you continue to plot your escape. unfortunately for you, he’s been plotting something, too.

word count: 4.2k

warnings: smut (noncon), oral (m receiving), forced breeding, bargaining, kidnapping/imprisonment, yandere (slightly?), a little bit of lactation kink

The jingling of keys was almost too quiet to hear, but with no other sound in your rusty shack of a prison, it was deafening. Your heart raced with the realization that your captor was returning home, even though you had anticipated it since his daily schedule (and in turn, yours) operated like clockwork.

The door opening and slamming shut. The rustling of chains and sliding of metal— he’s locking the deadbolts again. You tried to count them to see if you could figure how many he had on the door upstairs, but you lost track of which sound was what after three or four. You needed to know that before you attempted your escape, so you could calculate the time you’d need to get out the front door.

But that was sort of a moot point when you couldn’t get to the front door. Your first obstacle was the door in front of you. Your first obstacle was getting out of this basement.

An issue for another day, though, because Bucky was home and he was coming down to see you. It was earlier than usual, as he normally spent time upstairs first and didn’t come down until he had to bring you your dinner. Even just that small disruption to your daily routine made you fear the worst.

The door creaked and groaned under its own weight as it swung open, your captor waiting on the other side, The orange light of the afternoon was only a sliver across the wall, since your only window was no more than a few inches tall and at right at the ground level (which, in your case, was just below the ceiling; if you stood on your bed you could see out, but it was just grass and trees as far as you could see). As he stepped down the concrete stairs and shut the door behind him, that sliver of light illuminated only his crystal-blue eyes.

The two of you stared at each other in silence for a moment; him broad and strong and glowering menacingly by the door, you cowering in the corner.

“You know why you’re here, don’t you?” he asked quietly.

“I’m here so I can have your baby,” you answered as calmly as you could manage. He had made it overwhelmingly clear over the past few weeks, and although he’d never touched you that way in your time here, every day was shrouded with the impending reality of his purpose for you.

“Good job,” he praised flatly. “I’ve been waiting a while, for the right time…”

So have I, you thought to yourself, reflecting on your plan but stopping yourself as if you thought he might somehow read your mind and find a way to stop you.

“Today’s the day,” he informed you plainly. “Get on the bed.”

You pressed yourself back against the cold brick, shaking your head. He sighed, stalking closer to you as his combat boots echoed across the room with each step.

“Don’t make this difficult. It’s inevitable— and if you behave, I’ll make it good for you, too.”

“No, please,” you begged, shrinking into a ball as he neared your corner, “please don’t—”

He grabbed your wrist and yanked you to your feet, ignoring your yelps of pain; with a growl, he shoved you against the wall. “I’ve waited long enough. I’ve given you time to accept it and prepare yourself. Now get. On. The bed.”

Your mind raced as it searched for how to get out of this, but it came up nearly blank. He was a super soldier, with a vibranium arm; fighting was not at all an option. Begging was a waste, because you’d done that so many times before and all it did was get you punished— he never beat or starved you, thankfully, because he said it would interfere with your fertility, but he was quick to take away your few chances for privacy. You shuddered at the memory of those times that he’d chained you up and refused to let you feed or bathe yourself, doing it all for you instead.

His eyes were burning into your skin and you knew he was going to take what he wanted from you. You knew you couldn’t stop him from getting what he’d been waiting for… but you wondered if you could negotiate with him still. Maybe if you appealed to his arousal, you could gamble your dignity but save yourself from getting pregnant. After all, sex with this psycho sounded like a nightmare, but a child with him was unthinkable.

“I… I can still pleasure you,” you offered weakly, your voice and hands trembling with fear as you looked up at him. His brows furrowed slightly as he looked back with an expression of confusion. “You can use my mouth instead. I’ll be so good,” you promised, swallowing nervously as his eyes scanned your face, “I’ll do anything you want, I just don’t want to get pregnant.”

“I don’t know…” he mumbled, and you smiled because he was considering it and that meant you had a shot.

“Please, please Bucky let me suck your cock,” you begged, feeling a little sick as you had to feign this sort of eagerness, “it’ll be so good, pleasepleaseplease—”

“Alright, don’t overexert yourself,” he sighed, like he was doing you a favor. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt… just this once. But it’d better be as good as you’re making it seem, or I’ll just fuck you instead.”

You beamed and fell to your knees. “Oh, thank you, thank you so much— I’m gonna make it good, I promise Bucky, I’ll do whatever you like.”

“Well, you need to get it out first.”

You nodded and reached up to his belt, swallowing nervously as you started to undo the buckle. It wasn’t too bright in the room but you could see the outline of his cock through his jeans— it was hard already, and you could tell it was big. You figured the fabric was making it seem thicker than it really was, because it couldn’t possibly be that thick, right?

You looked up at him through your lashes as you opened the belt all the way, using touch to navigate the button and fly as you maintained eye contact. His face was as unreadable as ever, stoic aside from a tightened jaw. You really hoped he was enjoying this, because your ability to avoid getting pregnant was riding on it.

You unzipped the jeans slowly, slightly afraid that teasing would get you in trouble but smiling up at him as if you had no fear at all. You needed to act like this blowjob was the best thing that ever happened to you. If it kept this psycho from knocking you up, maybe it would be.

As you pulled his jeans down his thighs, you gasped a little at the outline of his cock through his boxer-briefs. “Fuck,” you murmured, “it really is that big.”

Bucky’s stern exterior finally cracked as a small smirk crossed his face. “Think you can handle it?” he asked, a hint of playful challenge in his tone.

“I’ll try my best,” you answered as you rubbed it through the fabric. With a breath to stabilize yourself, you slipped your fingers under the elastic, pulled his underwear down his muscular thighs— slowly, thoughtfully— and set the beast free.

With it staring you in the face like this, the tip red and dotted with a pearl of pre-cum, you wondered how you ever thought this was a good idea.

You took a quick breath in and out to stabilize yourself and try to accept that this was really happening, before delicately wrapping your hand around it. Your fingers didn’t even reach your palm… you were so screwed.

“Waiting for something?” he asked you impatiently.

“It’s better if you build anticipation,” you explained, looking up at him again.

“I know,” he frowned. “What do you think I’ve been waiting all this time for?”

You were trying not to think about where you were, what this was, who he was. Of course he would remind you, just to make it even harder.

You leaned forward and licked the head with a long, slow lap, tasting the warmth and musk of his skin on your tongue. You met his gaze when you did it again, finishing the motion by wrapping your lips around the head. Your tongue swirled over the skin and tasted everywhere you could reach, paying extra attention to his slit, and you finally got the slightest reaction as his mouth fell slack.

Needing some relief for your jaw already, you pulled back and stroked him slowly with a smile. “You taste soooo good,” you purred, internally cringing at your own poor acting. “I bet your come’s gonna taste even better.”

Spreading the wetness from your mouth over the rest of his shaft, you were able to get a bit of a rhythm going with your hand before you swallowed the head again, bobbing up and down and taking him a little deeper each time. You tried to change it up and watch for what might get him going: teasing him with the tip of your tongue, moaning around him, reaching down to grab his balls and rub them— but he was slow to warm up. His first real sign of pleasure was when his fingers pushed your hair out of your face, then traced down your cheek where it was hollowed from sucking.

“You look so good with my cock in your mouth,” he groaned, grabbing your chin and guiding you to take him a little deeper. You moaned again and tried to relax your throat as his tip began to brush over the back of your tongue.

You got into a routine fairly quickly— suck, bob, stroke, gag, repeat. Your free hand fondled his balls a bit, and you would stop to lick and suck them from time to time, but it seemed like you needed to keep trying to get him in your throat if you had any chance at making him come soon.

“Fuck,” he whispered under his breath, putting his hand on the back of your neck and starting to buck his hips up against you. You almost reached up to put your hands on his thighs and slow him down, but stopped yourself; you couldn’t afford to say no to him right now.

“Choke on it,” he growled, holding you down and watching you gag as tears welled in your eyes. Just as you thought you might throw up or pass out, he let you go and you were able to pull back. You coughed a little but started stroking him in the meantime while your throat recovered. You knew he was getting closer to the edge, you just hoped he was getting a lot closer, for your sake.

When you couldn’t take gagging anymore, and when you started to really feel him flexing and throbbing against your tongue, you pulled off of him and stroked his cock eagerly. “Do you wanna come on my face, Bucky? Or do you want me to swallow it?” you moaned, trying to sound sultry in spite of how exhausted and fucked-out you must’ve looked.

“Neither,” he replied, throwing you off-guard again. “I’m gonna come in your mouth, but I don’t want you to swallow it until I tell you to. Is that clear?”

You nodded, even though the idea of having to keep his come in your mouth for any longer than a moment sounded wretched.

He slipped his cock back into your mouth, hitting your throat every time and ignoring when you gagged. His breaths got heavier as you could feel his cock begin to pulse again. “Gonna come,” he warned you with a deep moan, “fuck, you ready?”

You did your best attempt at a nod, looking up at him the whole time. He looked back at you, his teeth bared and eyes wild, and the way he glared at you made you throb between your legs.

His moans were shaky as he came, the taste of him coating your tongue and throat with every thrust. He came a lot, more than you’d expected, and you sucked lightly on the sensitive head before pulling off.

“Fuck,” he sighed, “that was good. You were right.”

You didn’t smile, because you were afraid to let any of it spill. You got the impression that if you got come on his boots, you’d get in serious trouble. He helped you stand up, examining your face for a moment.

“You’re not swallowing yet, right? I wanna see it in your mouth,” he purred. He held your chin gently between his forefinger and thumb and you opened your mouth for him, letting his spend gather on your tongue. “Good girl.”

You stayed still as his hands wandered over your body, settling on the knot that held your robe tied together. He didn’t let you dress in anything more than that, though he thankfully kept the temperature nice enough that you didn’t need a lot more. With one tug, he undid the knot and it fell open; another quick push off your shoulders and you were completely naked in front of him.

He hummed contentedly, running his fingertips over your skin until you shivered, goosebumps forming in the wake of his touch. “I’ve seen you before, but that was strictly business,” he explained, his voice dreamy like he wasn’t focusing that much on his words but rather on what he was seeing in front of him. “Now I can finally appreciate you the way you deserve.”

You were terrified of what this all meant— apparently this is how he relaxes after an orgasm, some sort of cryptic take on pillow talk?— but you stayed still and kept your mouth shut, literally and figuratively.

“Spit it out into my hand,” he instructed. Confused and a little disgusted, you obeyed as he cupped his palm beneath your mouth. You were still trying to process that when his other hand— the metal one— grabbed you by the neck and forced you down, expending almost no effort in order to bend you over the edge of the bed and pin you there.

It all happened so fast that you didn’t even have time to scream before he was wiping his come on your pussy, shoving it in with his fingers.

“No!” you cried when you realized what he’d done, but it was too late to beg because it had already happened. You could feel it dripping out of you, but he never let it get very far before two fingers dragged it back and pushed it in.

“You’re soaked,” he observed with a cruel laugh. “You love sucking cock, huh? Maybe I’ll let you do it again sometime.”

All you could do was sob, hoping he would be done soon and you could get back to preparing your escape plan; he’d already come, so what more could he do to you?

“I don’t know if it’s getting deep enough,” he frowned as he knelt down and examined between your legs. If his hand wasn’t already wrapped around your neck you would’ve considered trying to kick him in the face or something, but you felt so helpless already and didn’t want to anger him further. “Here’s what we’ll do,” he decided, standing up and leaning over you as he started to get on the bed with you. “I’m gonna fuck this come into you, as deep as I can go. How about that?”

You shook your head and continued your sobs as he grabbed you and tossed you on your back, grabbing your legs and placing them on his shoulders.

“Bucky, you can’t!” you begged weakly, reaching up to cover your face with your hands. He didn’t care for that, grabbing your arms and pinning them to either side of you.

“Look at me!” he demanded, and you blinked your eyes open even as you turned your face away slightly to hide that last little bit. “Yes I fucking can. I can fuck you five more times tonight if I want to. I don’t think I’ll be able to come any more after that, but I could still fuck you again just to be sure. So, do you want to spend all night full of my cock? Or just the next half hour?”

Clearly, you’d underestimated the ramifications of his ‘super’ status. You had assumed that finishing once would satiate him, but you saw now that he had a lot more in store for you.

“Make it quick, please,” you whispered, your last piece of negotiation for the night— hopefully. He grinned and you swallowed.

“Oh, I think you ruined any chance of that. I probably wouldn’t’ve lasted too long if we’d stuck to my original plans— what, with all the waiting for the past few weeks,” he chuckled. “But now that you got me off already, it might be awhile before I can come again.”

You closed your eyes and sighed in defeat. He pushed down on the backs of your knees, keeping your legs spread wide and your body all but folded in half.

“I think my fingers warmed you up enough, don’t you? You can take it,” he decided as he started to slide his cock over your folds; like he was going to play with his prey before he devoured it. “Beg me to fuck you.”

“No, no,” you whispered, shutting your eyes tighter.

His voice got closer as the weight on your legs shifted; he was leaning above you, looking right at you, and you were too terrified to open your eyes.

“Beg me to fuck you and get you pregnant.”

“Nonononono,” you sobbed, because maybe it was all a terrible dream and it would end soon.

“Sooner you do it, sooner I start, sooner I finish. And then it’ll all be over and I’ll leave you alone.”

It’ll only just be the beginning, some voice in your head told you, but did it even make any difference?

“Please… fuck me,” you whispered, so quiet that only a man with enhanced hearing could pick up on it— but he would rather pretend not to.

“Speak up, honey, I can’t hear ya,” he grinned, “and look at me with those pretty eyes.”

You blinked your eyes open, staring back at the man above you. “Please, Bucky…” you said, a little louder, “please fuck me… I want you to g-get me pregnant.”

And part of you was almost thankful when he finally slammed his cock into you, because at least he wasn’t going to make you beg any longer. Still, your back arched and your mouth fell into a silent scream as the pain of his forced entry shot through you.

“Fuuuuuuuck,” he growled, already pulling back to thrust deeper, “oh my god, you feel so fucking good.”

It was all too much, and the way he had you positioned made him go so deep in you that you could barely breathe. You knew you’d be sore for days from this, and he had only just started.

He fucked you relentlessly, looking down and watching in awe as his cock slid in and out of your dripping hole. “Taking me so well,” he praised you with a rough voice, “such a good girl for me.”

His attempt at praise felt like the most humiliating thing he could’ve said; you wanted anything but to be good for him— after so many tries to fight back, to stall, to resist, all you’d done was make everything worse for yourself, and now he was calling you his good girl. You felt disgusting as he leaned down and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to reciprocate his aggressive kiss.

He stayed close when he pulled back, watching your expression twist with pain. “Does it still hurt, doll? It should start feeling good soon.”

It had already started to feel good, but you hadn’t admitted that to yourself. Every thrust pushed the fat head of his cock right into some part of you that was so sensitive and it was all very overwhelming.

“It’ll be better if you come,” he explained. “I wanna make it good for you, and it helps our chances of conceiving.”

An hour ago, you would have objected to the use of ‘our’— it’s not ‘our’ plan, it’s not what ‘we’ want, you would’ve said, or at least thought. But you were so distracted that you didn’t even notice it, and in a way, you two did have the same goal: you both wanted this to end, just for different reasons.

“I bet you can come just from this,” he wagered, “but it’ll be easier for you if I touch you here, right?”

One hand moved down and suddenly his thumb was circling your clit. Instantly your hips were bucking up and your walls were clenching down on him. He began to praise you for how sensitive you were, but his words were lost in your mind as you put all your energy into not having an orgasm. You couldn’t come from this— you’d been kidnapped, held captive, molested, manipulated, and now this… you just couldn’t allow that to happen.

“Let go, baby, I know you’re so close,” he encouraged, “it’s okay— it’s good, my good little girl…”

The coil snapped, and at that moment, your last piece of dignity fell and shattered. It must have been that holding it back for so long only made it more intense when you gave in, because you’d never come so hard in your life. Your eyes went from wrenched shut to shot wide open, and your back arched as your nails clawed at the sheets beneath you. You couldn’t be sure what noises you made because your ears were starting to ring, and through all of that he was still fucking you.

“Fuck yes, just like that,” he grinned, “Jesus fucking Christ, you get so tight when you come.”

As the intensity of your orgasm faded, all your fight was gone with it, and you went limp as you resigned to letting him use your body this way. He leaned down and kissed your neck, sucking bitemarks into the delicate skin there— even venturing down to your collarbones. All of that meant he didn’t have to go very far to be able to whisper in your ear about how he was so close, how he was going to get you pregnant any second now, and how he couldn’t wait to see you round and swollen with his child.

“These’ll get bigger too,” he moaned as he reached up to grope your tits. “Our baby will get first serve, of course, but if there’s anything left over, I’ll help you take care of it.”

It could’ve been hours of that, for all you could tell. You came again and again— they started to blend together after a while— as he moaned the most terrifying, filthy things in your ear. You were afraid you’d go numb before he finished, his cock moving so fast and so deep that the friction nearly burned. It didn’t burn, though, because you were unendingly wet, which really just made it worse because you hated that you were, on some level, enjoying it. Every time he whispered praises to you, arousal tingled in your spine and you fluttered around him. It was obvious that his words, his body, and his cock were doing things to you that you hadn’t ever experienced before.

You were crying still, but you weren’t sobbing. No sound or heavy breathing, just tears streaming silently to the wet patch beneath your head.

“You’re so perfect,” he cooed, “and you’re gonna be a great mom. You’ll be a great wife, too… with a little more training.”

He was fucking you even faster, the lewd slapping of skin echoing through the room. You could hear how wet you were, and you could feel that it had begun to coat your inner thighs. His moans got louder, occasionally muffled as he kissed your neck some more.

“God, baby, I dunno if I can last much longer… need to fill you up, doll.”

Your legs were shaking, but the rest of you was still and silent, resigned to your fate.

“Fuck, I love you,” he groaned. “Is that strange to say? I hope it’s not too soon— but it’s true. I love you so fuckin’ much.” His sweetness dissipated instantly as he grabbed your jaw, hovering over your face again. “Say you love me, too,” he instructed. You weakly tried to shake your head. “Say it!”

“I love you too, Bucky,” you whispered, and you heard yourself say it but it didn’t sound like you at all. He smiled softly, looking down at you with gentle affection in his eyes.

“I know, sweet girl,” he hummed before he kissed you again. And as the kiss deepened, the way he moaned against your lips and his hips started to falter made it all too clear he was coming inside you. It went on for what felt like eternity, with him thrusting into you with every flex of his cock, each time slamming as deep as he could go.

He pulled you close, keeping his cock inside as he started to catch his breath and kiss your neck and shoulders slowly. Your kidnapper, after everything he’d done, actually had the audacity to cuddle with you… how bizarre.

“Might be able to go again soon,” he informed you with a sleepy mumble, “but I jus’ wanna hold ya first… I could fall asleep with you in my arms like this…”

You glanced over at the door, sadly seeing he’d locked it behind him— even locked from the inside, you couldn’t open it, due to the outrageously heavy metal bar that only he could lift. Meaning you couldn’t make your escape while he slept. With no hope of freedom in sight, and with your own eyelids getting heavy, you figured it couldn’t do any harm to fall asleep with him. You’d worry about your plan tomorrow— right now, you could just enjoy laying your head on his chest and being wrapped in his embrace.

#dark!bucky barnes smut #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes x you #dark!bucky barnes x y/n #dark!bucky smut

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dekus-afro-pic · 4 years ago

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Spoiled Brat

Pairings: Y/N x Tomura Shigaraki

Warning::: tiny tiny mangs spoiler

“I’m done with your shit, Tenko” You spat, throwing your bag over your shoulder. It was the last straw. You were sick of your partner blowing you off for some video game or to torment high school kids. What’s up with that? Who does shit like that? You didn’t choose this lifestyle to scar teenagers. You chose it to get back at the heroes who were good for nothing.

“Where the fuck are you going?” The 20 year old grabbed at your bag only for you to shrug him off. You ignored his constant call of your name, walking to your own room in the hideout to get the rest of your things.

“Hey. Answer me when I’m talking to you” With a grab to your wrist he spun you around to face him.

“Eat. Shit.” You shook free from his hold and walked out of the door.

Dabi and Compress just stood in shock at the way you talked to Tomura. You guys fought all the time but never did you call him by his childhood name. That caused Shigaraki’s blood to boil.

How dare she talk to me that way? Did she forget who I am? Shigaraki fucking Tomura. Mentored by All for One. I’ll have her killed.

The thoughts came faster than he could scratch. In the back of his mind he knew that he wouldn’t be able to kill you. Not after everything the two of you have been through. Ever since the two of you were kids you’d never had a fight like this.

Blood covered his finger tips as he slammed the door to what was your room. He faced Dabi and Compress with wide eyes.

“Go find her” his voiced rasped. “GO FIND HER NOW”!

You know that he sent the two most skilled members of the league after you. But did you care? Hell no. Your not a “Pick-me” or a push over. Whatever you want you take with no questions asked.

You know all the spots where they don’t bother to look or dare to go. So of course your going to hideout there.

You think back at the words that were exchanged between the two of you. “Did you actually mean what you said?” You whispered to yourself “Well of course I meant it at the time. And I still feel like he’s a spoiled brat. I mean yea his childhood was shit but after he was taken in by All for One he’s had everything handed to him”

“Y/n stop talking to yourself. You sound like Toga” A voice said from beside you.

“I’m not going back Dabi. Go away. You too Compress I know you’re in his pocket”

With a pop of his quirk, Compress appeared in front of you. “That’s no fun if you spoil the trick Y/n”

“Yea whatever”

“Listen” Dabi started, “We won’t force you to go back. We can always say that we couldn’t find you”

“And lose your life in the process? Yea right” you scoff, turning down another alleyway “I’m not that dumb. Compress is going to use his quirk, stick me in his pocket, and the two of u get tv privileges. I’ve seen it before”

You were pushed to the brick wall of the ally by rough hands. A pinky came into your line of vision and you groaned in realization. You glare at the two villains behind him “Y’all set me up. Nice plan Shigi”

“Shut up” he growled from behind Father, “You dare disrespect me as if I won’t dust you like you mean nothing to me?”

“I didn’t disrespect you. I spoke the truth. You lost sight at what you originally planned on doing” you spat back, “You’re going to kill me Shigi? Then do it. Kill me knowing that it was I who stayed by your side since we were kids. It was I who helped you practice your quirk. It’s AFO who’s manipulating you. Using your fucking emotions against you. I bet it was him who told you to kill me. Always need somebody to instruct you on what to do. Grow some damn balls for once.”

For the second time tonight, Dabi and Compress were lost for words.

Gigantic balls.

You and Tomura stayed quiet for a while, the two of you never breaking eye contact. Tearing Father from off his face, He kisses you. Groans from the other two villains are ignored as he slipped his tongue past your lips.

What they failed to realize is that Shigaraki had his whole hand wrapped around your neck. The man pulled away with a smirk on his face at the thought of your dusted body. But once he opened his eyes his smirk fell.

No no no, this can’t be. You’re supposed to be dead. You’re quirk less how could you possibly still be standing there.

“Well I’ll be dammed” Dabi snickered.

“Seems like Madam L/n has a quirk repelling quirk” Compressed smiled.

“Well shit” You laughed, “Looks like your plan failed. Once again”

Shigaraki’s scowl returned as the grip around your throat tightened. “Why can’t you just die”

“Try harder...Bitch” you pushed the man away with newfound strength. “Can’t believe you tried to kill me while kissing me. If that doesn’t scream ‘Toxic’”

“Come on,” Shigaraki replaced Father on his face and grabbed your hand “We’re going back to the hideout”

“Like hell I am” You pull away from his grasp “You need to get your shit together Tomura”

“Compress”

And with that you were enclosed in a blue marble.

“Stupid Magician always trapping me in this damn marble. SCREW YOU MR. ABRA KADABRA. YOU TO YOU BURNT CHICKEN NUGGET. CANT STAND YOU THREE IDIOTS. I HOPE TO-“

“Dearest Y/N please stop rambling. We’re almost there.” Compress groaned.

Now that you think about it...how the hell are you in here in the first place? Why didn’t you repel this quirk? Did you even try? No you did not.

So you relaxed, putting all your concentration towards getting out of that small blue ball. Compress felt the marble shake in his pocket. Just after he stepped foot into the hideout he pulled out the marble and watched you emerge.

“Some timing” you strain. While stretching your limbs, you walked towards your room. But you weren’t alone. You felt him push you through the threshold and slammed the door behind him.

“Give me your hand” He demanded.

You rolled your eyes and placed your hand in his. “Normal people would’ve just stabbed the person that they wanted to kill”

“Stop talking.”

Shigaraki moved backwards towards your bed. Falling on his back when he felt the frame hit his knees, he pulled you on top of him. “Now, tell me why we’re fighting”

“Because you’re an abused emotional man-child” You respond, pushing light blue hair away from his face. “You need help”

“Don’t we all” he scoffs.

Your eyes would’ve rolled to the depths of your skull if they could. You took a handful of his hair and yanked it. “You know what the fuck I mean. You need to stop being the puppet that belongs to AFO and be Tomura. Get revenge for Tenko”

“He’s my mentor, not my puppet master” He bites back, leaving crescent shaped marks on your hips.

“So you’d rather torment highschool kids rather than the heroes that actually failed you”

That statement shut him up. Tomura closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. “You know you’re going to get me in a whole lot of trouble talking that way”

You place a kiss to his forehead and smile, “And I’ll fight by your side every time”

#mha #mha bakugo x reader #mha fanfiction #mha headcanons #mha x reader #mha x y/n #my hero academia #katsuki bakugo x reader smut #kirishima x reader #boku no hero headcanons #boku no hero academia tomura #tomura smut #tomurashigaraki #shigaraki x y/n #shigaraki angst #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki fluff #bnha shigaraki

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polaroid15 · 3 years ago

Text

Parker Luck

Summary: Two weeks after the Vulture-incident, Tony buys a parenting book. Too bad there isn't a chapter on Parker luck.

Read on Ao3 HERE :)

------

Two weeks after the Vulture fiasco, Tony buys a book called ‘Parenting for Dummies’.

He almost immediately regrets the purchase and hides it in a drawer in the lab, not yet brave enough to face it. Then one day he spends three hours squished against Peter’s side, listening to the boy ramble about everything under the sun while they adjust his web shooters. It hits Tony like a brick wall, and when Peter bounces out of the lab after teaching Tony a complicated handshake he knows he’ll never remember, he swears under his breath.

He shouldn’t be surprised, really. He had known it from that very first moment in the kid’s bedroom in Queens.

For once, denial has gotten him nowhere.

After his eyes ache from staring at the door Peter had disappeared from, Tony stands, stretches out a kink in his lower back, and grabs the book from the drawer before he can lose his nerve. Still standing, he traces his thumb over the word Parenting on the cover.

Retreat, his mind begs. Stop. Before it’s too late.

But deep down, he knows he’s already in too deep.

With a heavy sigh and a pressing warmth in his chest, Tony flips the pages to chapter one.

--------

Peter calls it ‘Parker luck’.

Tony calls it the source of his ever-increasing gray hair.

When Peter stumbles into the Tower covered in blood and delirious from a nasty hit to the head, Tony thinks he’ll pass out from the sudden weight of his worry. It only takes some gentle coaxing and seven stitches to make it better, but the unease sits in Tony’s gut long after Peter falls asleep. When the boy wakes up, he apologizes until Tony snaps at him not too.

“It’s the Parker luck, Mr. Stark,” Peter tells him, his head wrapped like a mummy on halloween. “It gets me everytime.”

Parenting for Dummies Chapter Three: Listen. “A nasty concussion doesn’t exactly sound like luck to me, kid.”

“Oh, well it’s not good luck,” Peter clarifies with a weak smile. “In fact it’s really bad luck. Exceptionally bad.”

“You’re killing me here.”

“Did you know that I slipped on a banana peel once? A banana peel. I was on crutches for three weeks in middle school.”

Tony’s worry melts into a hesitant amusement. He sits back on his stiff medbay chair and makes a distant note to invest in a better one. “That is pretty lousy luck, kiddo.”

“And it just keeps getting worse,” Peter says. “Getting bitten by a radioactive spider, crashing Flash’s car, or the fact that I spent homecoming destroying a plane while fighting my date’s dad.”

“I hope this Parker luck of yours isn’t contagious,” Tony jokes, but something in Peter’s eyes darkens. He leans back against the white sheets, chewing on his bottom lip. Tony thinks again of chapter three, of the subtitle that prompts to push at the right times, and takes the liberty. “What is it, kid?”

Peter closes his eyes and gives a watery smile. “Nothing, Mr. Stark. Sorry.”

And because he’s an idiot, Tony believes him. Something tells him he needs to buy Parenting for Dummies 2.

--------

When Peter saves a school bus full of third graders from a thirteen car pileup at the expense of his collar bone, Tony rereads his book, this time with a highlighter in hand.

He wishes there was a section on Parker luck.

This time, he’s less careful about where he reads. Pepper catches him one night, her eyebrows disappearing behind her bangs in her surprise. Her smile is genuine. “Is that what I think it is?” she asks.

“Maybe.”

“Oh God, please don’t tell me you’re pregnant.”

Tony rolls his eyes and dog ears his page before setting it aside. “I am, actually. And sorry to break it to you, but you’re not the father.”

Pepper laughs and sits on the arm of the couch. She runs her hand through his hair and he can’t help but lean into her touch. “This is about Peter,” she says.

His first instinct is to deny it. He feels vulnerable in a way he isn’t used to. “So what if it is?”

“He’s a good kid.”

“I know.”

“He’s making you soft.”

Tony scoffs, but doesn’t deny it. Not with Parenting for Dummies on his lap. “He’s stressing me out, is what he’s doing.”

“He really cares about you, Tony. I see it every time he’s over here.”

His body betrays him by the gentle swoop in his stomach. His mouth twitches in a smile. “I care about him too.”

“You’re a good example to him. He needs someone like you in his life. Especially after what happened to his parents. And his Uncle.”

And then it clicks. Parker luck. Tony’s mouth goes dry.

“I’m trying,” is all he manages to whisper. The book in his lap seems to increase by ten.

Pepper leans over him, pressing her lips into his hair. “I know.”

---------

It’s his and Peter’s fifth mission together.

Today, they’re going up against “the Detonator”, a crazed woman with an affinity for making bombs and setting them off in busy neighbourhoods. She’s armed with a team of rocket-launcher-wielding henchmen, and it’s taking every effort to keep the city in one piece.

Most of the block has been evacuated, thanks to Peter. Tony remembers chapter seven and shoots the boy some praise over their coms. Steve, who’s joined them for the day’s fight, agrees with clipped enthusiasm.

“Thanks guys!” Peter says in his usual animation. “These rocket launchers are no joke. Have you ever seen the movie-”

But whatever it is, it’s lost in the deafening sound of an explosion. He hears Peter swear over the com and Tony’s blood runs cold. Three blocks down, an orange fireball balloons into the air. Steve is already running, his shield tucked into his chest.

Tony shoots off into the sky.

---------

Peter thought they had everything under control.

Until rocket launcher man number 3 decided to explode the bank off 47th street, that is.

He feels the heat from the explosion before he can process what happened. It rips across his back and throws him off his feet into a hot dog cart across the street. Rubble and ash rain down on parked cars and their alarms begin to sound.

“Crap,” Peter groans, shoving away the dented cart and stumbling to his feet. His ears are ringing.

“Pete?” Tony’s voice cuts through the haze. “We’re on our way. You alright?”

“Yeah,” he responds, breathless. His shoulder aches. “These guys are not in a good mood.”

“You can say that again.”

The man who had fired the shot runs up the steps of the bank, bypassing chunks of concrete. Peter limps after him.

“Sorry man,” Peter says when his opponent’s back is still turned. “It’s after hours.”

Startled, the man spins. Peter fires a web to disarm him and it only takes one swift punch to finish the job. He webs him to the floor and kicks the rocket launcher into the corner.

“Kid?” Tony lands beside him, faceplate lifting and his hands reaching to grab onto him. His grip is tight on Peter’s arms, and Peter is unsure which one of them Tony is trying to comfort. “You still in one piece?”

Peter’s ears are still ringing, a high pitched whine that makes his eye twitch. His ankle throbs and he can feel warmth spreading down his back from a cut on his shoulder. He nods anyway. “Are you?”

“Better now that I see you haven’t been barbecued.”

Steve joins them as Peter laughs off Tony’s worry. He’s breathing heavy, his forehead streaked with ash. “Someone sighted the Detonator. She’s heading east towards the Empire State Building.”

“Of course she is,” Tony sighs. Finally, he lets Peter go. “Ready for a field trip?”

But just as he says it, another violent explosion lights up the street across from them. Peter stumbles against the force. Tony grabs his arm, and Steve his shoulder, and he steadies. Through the black smoke, a child cries.

Chest tight, Peter takes a step forward before he’s yanked back. It’s Tony. His helmet hides his expression, but Peter can tell from his stiff posture that he’s worried. That he doesn’t want to separate.

As if sensing it too, Steve places a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “Peter and I will clear the rocket launchers. You go take care of the Detonator.”

“But-”

“She can’t get to it first, Tony. You’ll be the fastest.”

The crying continues, and Peter takes another step. This time, the metal fingers wrapped around his elbow loosen, letting him go. “You better watch him, Rogers.”

“Mr. Stark-”

“Don’t do anything stupid, kid.”

And then Tony is off, blasting off into the sky. Peter shivers against the hot air his exit leaves before turning to run towards the smoke and debris, Steve hot on his heels. Without hesitation, he jumps over the small flames and emerges on the other side, his throat closing up against the smoke.

The first thing Peter sees is the child, snot-nosed and hidden underneath the bed of a truck. His eyes widen when he sees them, a cry stopped short. “Spider-Man!” he yells.

“Get the kid,” Steve says. “I think I see our guy.”

And then he’s gone.

Peter doesn’t dwell on it, vaulting over a smashed mailbox and a stretch of broken glass to reach the kid’s side. He’s trembling, but his hands reach out. Trusting him.

“It’s alright,” Peter says, accepting the kid’s outstretched hands. “We’re okay. Do you know where your family is?”

The boy shakes his head, lip wobbling but obviously trying to be brave. “N-no. I lost them over there,” he says pointing down the street.

“Okay. No problem. Let’s go find them.”

He doesn’t give the boy an option to walk, but instead guides him to rest against his back. Small fingers lock together at the base of Peter’s throat, holding tight.

“What’s your name?” Peter asks as he heads in the direction the boy had pointed. Keep him distracted.

“Benny.”

Peter’s breath catches. “Nice to meet you, Benny. I’m Spider-Man.”

“I- I know.”

“Oh yeah?”

The boy’s head bobs against his back. “I see you on TV. And on the newspapers on the street. You fight bad guys.”

“I try too.”

“You’re awesome,” Benny says, and the shaking quality to his voice recedes.

“I think you’re the awesome one. You’re being so brave.”

“Brave?”

“Yeah, Benny. Even though it’s scary right now you’re still going.”

Benny sniffles. “Are you scared?”

“Nah,” Peter says. “I’ve got you to protect me.”

Against his back, Benny’s chest swells with a breath of a response, but before he can let the words lose a relieved cry erupts from their left. A woman in a pastel headscarf runs towards them, her arms outstretched. “Benny! My little Ben-”

“Mom!”

Peter maneuvers him to the ground and as soon as his small feet hit the ground he’s running. The pair meet in the middle of the street, their arms wrapping tight and their tears mixing. The mother’s eyes meet him from over Benny��s shoulder. “Thank you,” she says, every ounce of her emotion leaking into her words.

“Of course,” is all he can manage.

Once he’s sure they're safe and off the street, he deviates his attention to his coms. “Steve?” he asks over a private channel. “Where are you?”

For a long time, Steve doesn’t respond. Then just as Peter’s worry spikes the man’s voice fills his ears, pinched and strained. “By the river. I’m cornered.”

“Karen-” Peter starts, but Steve’s location pops up on his screen before he can ask further. He changes the trajectory of his swing and just barely avoids clipping his hip on the corner of a building. Then, to Steve, “I’m on my way!”

He finds the Captain in worse shape than he had expected. He’s hunched against an upturned car, it’s tires melted from the sheer heat of the destruction on the street. His shield is raised over his head to protect him from debris raining from the crumbling buildings.

Across the road, three of Detonator's accomplices are shooting the buildings around him, shrieking with glee whenever new glass shatters. Peter glides between the chaos before landing beside Steve. He scrapes his hands on the landing.

“Oh my god,” Peter says, flinching from another loud explosion. “What do we do?”

Steve grimaces, and it’s only now that Peter sees how messed up his leg is. It’s twisted at an unnatural angle, the material of his suit singed and still smoking around it.

“What the hell happened?” Peter gasps, feeling sick.

“It doesn’t matter. We need to get out of here.”

“Not with those crazy rocket guys standing guard. You can’t walk!”

“I can try.”

Adrenaline courses hot through Peter’s bloodstream. He peaks over the car and reassesses their opponents. “I can take them.”

“No. Tony said-”

“Tony isn’t here,” Peter argues. “Besides, I have my Peter tingle. I’ll be fine.”

“Peter tingle?”

“Be right back.”

“Wait!”

But Peter ducks out of cover, knowing that Steve won’t be able to stop him. He runs towards the one closest to him and hopes the element of surprise will be enough to take them down. It is, but barely, and now his cover is blown. The other two turn their weapons towards him and before he can suck in a breath, fire.

Peter swears and jumps high, the rockets whistling as they pass under his feet. They hit the edge of the sidewalk by the river, blowing it open and skipping chunks of debris into the water. Not wanting to wait for them to reload, Peter swings and takes them both out with a single kick. He lands in a messy roll, disoriented by the quickness of the fight.

“We’re clear!” he yells over to Steve, but even as he says it dread sits heavy in his gut. He takes one step towards the car before he hears it- a sharp release of air.

Fire blooms up at the base of the building closest to Steve, the crack of the impact enough to rattle Peter’s teeth and throw him to his knees. It’s the last straw. The building makes a horrible noise of grinding cement, like a scream, and Peter knows enough from experience that it’s close to collapse.

“Steve!”

He sprints to where the man is trying to limp away. His eyes find him, their blue shocking through the dust and smoke. “Peter. You have to get out of here-”

“Not without you.”

Before the man can object, Peter pulls his weight over his shoulder and makes it his burden. He wonders distantly where the fourth rocket launcher is and why they haven’t been blown sky high yet.

But then glass and cement falls down around them like rain, and Peter realizes. Because the building will finish the job for them.

“We’re not going to make it,” Steve says through ground teeth. His hold on Peter’s shoulder is bruising. “Peter, please.”

The building sways again. They have a couple seconds. Nothing more.

Then Peter sees it. A manhole.

“Here,” he gasps, dropping to his knees and tearing off the cover. Every alarm bell in his head is screaming, but it’s the only option. The only way they’ll both have a chance. “Go.”

Steve drops in, disappearing into darkness and landing below with an aborted shout. Peter kicks his legs in just as the building crumbles. Fear stops the breath in his chest and he slides the rest of the way in. He falls and lands hard, head spinning, before finding Steve’s arm in the darkness and pulling him deeper into the sewer.

There’s a couple moments of silence.

And then the world erupts.

Peter will remember later how the force of the impact threw both of them off their feet and how it was impossible to keep his grip on Steve’s arm. He’ll remember the deafening noise of the building smashing onto the street above them, of the great plume of dust that filled the tunnel and blinded him.

He’ll remember falling, his legs jelly, and struggling to his knees.

He’ll remember wishing he had called Tony.

But none of it registers in the moment. There’s only terror.

And then there’s nothing.

----------

“Peter. Come on. Work with me here.”

Awareness brings pain. He strays.

“Nope. No. Peter. Open your eyes.”

The voice belongs to Steve, Peter realizes in a stilted disorientation. Steve, who had been hurt. Steve, who sounds very much alive.

It’s enough for Peter to lift his heavy eyelids. His surroundings are dark, but he can see the Captain’s worried face swimming in front of him, warping in and out of focus as both of them release a breath of relief.

“Thank God,” Steve says.

“Are you okay?” Peter murmurs, surprised for a moment by how unwilling his vocal cords are to cooperate. There’s new blood on Steve’s face and the torso on his suit is torn.

“It’s you I’m more worried about.”

“Mm. Why?”

Steve might respond, but Peter doesn’t hear it, his awareness slipping like the close of a stage curtain. Strong hands shake him and the sting of his injuries are enough for him to struggle back into wakefulness.

“Stay awake, kid. Alright? Tony is on his way. Keep your eyes open.”

Peter didn’t remember closing his eyes, but sure enough, when he tries they open. “Tony?”

“He’ll be here soon.”

There’s a tightness in his chest, and Peter coughs against it. It sparks a sharp pain behind his ribs and he curls his fingers into the ground as Steve braces him by his shoulder. His ribs are definitely broken. His leg throbs and the skin on the right side of his face itches terribly with drying blood. He blinks a couple times to try and alleviate his double vision, but it does nothing.

“What happened?” Peter asks.

“You don’t remember?”

“Not really.”

Steve’s expression pinches like he’s just eaten something sour. “The building above us collapsed, but don’t worry about it too much. Tony will be here in a flash.”

Collapse. Peter sucks in a panicked breath and it makes him cough again. It hurts worse this time, and his vision goes gray. He comes back to himself in Steve’s lap, his whole body shuddering and then man’s hand clamped protectively against his back.

The new perspective shows Peter a growing red stain on the Captain’s side.

“Steve,” he gasps, uncoordinated fingers reaching out to press against the wound.

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s not- it’s not nothing-”

Before Steve can retaliate further, their coms crack back to life. Peter winces against it, his fingers reaching up to struggle with the edges of his mask. Steve pushes his hand away. “Leave it. It’s helping filter your air.”

“Peter? Rogers?” Tony’s voice comes through in a mess of static. It reminds Peter of Ben’s favorite radio station that had been broadcasted too far to have a good connection. “I’m here. Oh Christ, I’m here. Are you okay?”

“Steve’s hurt,” Peter mumbles. It’s important Tony knows.

“Rogers?”

“Just hurry, Tony,” Steve says. There’s a pressure in his voice that Peter’s too tired to translate.

“The explosion caused the river to flood. You’re under about three feet of water right now.”

“We’re airtight.”

“For now.”

Peter feels himself dip further into Steve’s lap and the man’s steadying hand is delayed. Weaker. “Peter? What did I tell you about staying awake.”

“What’s wrong with Peter?”

“Queens. I need you to put pressure on this for me. Don’t give up on me now.”

Peter groans. For once, he doesn’t care how young it makes him sound. He struggles up anyways and replaces his hand obediently over Steve’s side. It paints his hands red and he tries desperately not to think of Ben.

“Rogers-”

“I got it, Tony.”

There’s a weighted silence. Peter bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself lucid. The static in his brain reminds him of the time he had gotten stabbed, and wonders if he’s bleeding somewhere too.

“Okay. I found a weak spot. It shouldn’t cause too much damage. Are you ready?”

“Go for it.”

There’s another lurch of shifting rock. Peter can’t help but cry out, his muddled brain struggling to comprehend that this time, it’s to help. Then there’s a loud crash, a weak beam of sunlight, and the rush of water.

Within seconds, the cold spray is up to their waists. Peter grinds his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut against reflexive tears the biting temperature brings. It gives him a boost of adrenaline, and when he opens his eyes again, his vision is more clear.

Tony is with them moments later, hovering above the water. His hands reach for Peter, but Peter shys away. “Steve first,” he pleads. “He’s bleeding-”

“You’re bleeding too-” Tony starts, but even as he says it, Steve lists dangerously to the side. His face is pale, his breathing shallow. Tony catches him by the shoulder. “Don’t move,” he tells Peter, and works to lift Steve up towards the hole.

The water is up to Peter's chest now. It steals the breath from his lungs and he scrambles to stand. Somewhere in the journey the ground above him groans and he loses his footing. He hears Tony yell out for him, feels metal hands push him hard, and then he’s completely underwater. There’s more noise. More pain.

He breaks the surface, stuttering on his breath and his teeth clattering. More sunlight has entered the tunnel, and it’s easy to piece together what had happened.

“Tony!”

Peter fights against the current to reach his mentor’s side. His suit is pinned under a large slab of concrete by his left leg, the water already sloshing up to his neck. Peter practically collapses beside him and digs his fingers under the weight, but his ribs scream in protest so violently that his vision goes white.

“Easy!” Tony yells, catching him by his arms when he falters. “Kiddo, listen to me. The suit will let me breathe for a while. You need to get out of here.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“You have to. FRIDAY took some damage, but she’s recalibrating my boosters. I’ll be able to get out.”

“No,” Peter chokes, trying again to lift the concrete keeping Tony pinned. “I won’t leave without you.”

“Peter-”

“I’m not losing you too. I can’t- I can’t-”

Tony’s voice is more gentle, his hand reaching to cradle the side of Peter’s face. “Listen to me, bud. I know this is scary. But you have to trust me. You have to go. For me.”

Peter shudders. Feels hot tears pool under the tight confines of his mask. “Told you I have Parker luck,” he says.

Tony finds it within himself to laugh. The water is at their chins. “I know, kiddo. But you don’t have to be afraid anymore. We’ve got each other now.”

“Tony-”

“Go.”

The water rises over his mouth. He wouldn’t be able to answer even if he wanted to. Then Tony’s head is submerged, and icy terror closes around Peter’s heart.

He dives under and reaches once more for the weight on Tony’s leg. He pulls and struggles and feels Tony’s hands on his arms, trying to pry him off and pull him away. The light is gone in the murky water.

Please. Please.

The concrete shifts. It takes everything in Peter not to gasp out at the pain it causes, to waste the precious air he has left.

Please.

It shifts again. Tony has given up on trying to push him off and is instead helping to lift the weight. Just a little bit more.

Peter screams, tiny bubbles escaping and carrying whatever he had left away. His body loses strength just as the concrete is alleviated. He thinks he feels Tony’s hands close around his numb body. But really he can’t be sure.

Tony is safe.

And it’s all that matters.

-------

“Peter. Don’t do this.”

“Breathe, Queens. Oh God-”

“Steve. What do I- I can’t- I can’t-”

“Keep the compressions going, Tony. Keep going okay? Don’t stop.”

“I can’t do it without him. I need him, Steve. I need-”

“Keep it together. He’s going to be fine. Right, Peter? You’re going to be fine. You just have to breathe for us.”

“Kiddo. Baby. Please.”

It’s all water down a drain.

A swirling, murky mess.

And it takes Peter with it.

-------

Parenting for Dummies: Chapter 12.

Love them unconditionally.

Tony hasn’t left his kid’s side for hours. He’s been glued to him, the boy’s limp hand pressed between his own like a lifeline even when the doctor’s had worked to splint his leg. Every breath, every rise and fall of Peter’s chest is a miracle, and Tony stares at the heart monitor until his eyes burn.

May is dozing in a recliner in the corner, her glasses crooked on her face. It’s just nearing three in the morning.

There’s movement behind him, and Tony turns to find Steve. He’s traded his hospital gown for a pair of loose sweats and a white shirt, the skin on his arms wrapped with thick bandages. The Captain turns and sees May. When he speaks, his words are almost a whisper. “How is he?”

Tony shrugs, a sudden lump monopolizing in his throat. “He’ll be okay.”

“Has he woken up yet?”

“No.”

Steve sighs. He limps to Tony’s side, but still manages to keep some distance. “He was brave today.”

“If by brave you mean dumb, then yes.”

“He saved our lives. We both know that you wouldn’t have been able to blast out of there by yourself.”

Dread sits heavy in Tony’s gut, because it’s true. He would’ve said anything to get Peter to safety. His blasters weren’t recharging. Weren’t even close to functioning.

But the kid had been too selfless for his lie. Really, Tony shouldn’t be surprised.

And now every time he closes his eyes he sees Peter. Hurt, small, Peter. Jerking with the last of his energy to free Tony. Of going limp in the water, no more air leaving his lips and remaining totally unresponsive as Tony fought to return the life to him.

“I wish it didn’t have to be him,” Tony says.

“But it is. It was.”

“I know.”

Steve lays a hand on Tony’s shoulder. He’s too tired to flinch away from it. “Let me know when he wakes up.”

And then he leaves.

Tony runs his thumb over Peter’s knuckles. “Wake up,” he says. Pleads.

But with his usual stubbornness, Peter doesn’t show signs of waking for another hour. First his fingers twitch. Then he groans. His eyelids flutter and Tony nearly collapses in his relief. Soft and weary eyes turn to find him, and Peter’s lips turn into a smile.

“You’re okay,” he murmurs.

“You have no idea how angry I am with you right now,” Tony says, but any heat behind his words is lost behind his relief. Peter must see it because his smile only widens.

“You don’ look angry.”

“Furious?”

“Nope.”

“Enraged?”

Peter laughs, then winces. He looks down and notices Tony’s hand clamped on his own. “I’m really glad you’re okay.”

“Well, the feeling’s mutual.”

Peter looks up. Tony tightens his hold.

“Maybe I don’t have Parker luck after all.”

“We’re breaking the cycle,” Tony agrees. He lifts Peter’s hand and presses a firm kiss to the back of his hand. Peter smiles again.

“Pepper told me you bought a parenting book,” he says, eyes drooping.

“That woman is nothing but a liar.”

“Mm. I believe her.”

“Sorry to break it to you kid, but whoever would want to willingly parent a danger seeking, heart attack inducing kid like you would have to be crazy.”

Peter squeezes Tony’s hand. “Sorry to break it to you, but I guess that means you're crazy.”

Tony’s heart compresses with warmth. “Yeah kid,” he says, “I guess I am.”

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

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