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makahimetenshi · 2 years ago

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Traumas at the Commonwealth

This is the third part of a series of fics im writing lately, the order will be:

Volver a tener algo

Addicted to Chems

And this one, Traumas at the Commonwealth

Since im in a rampage writing with this new ship I want to make some announcements

If you are very very very delighted with one fic and want a continuation I didn’t write or post you can donate me at least $5 bucks, most of this fics have next chapters I don’t finish because lack of motivation but hey a $5 is a $5, I see a few reviews and coments that fics that are abandoned months laters receive coments of wanting to know what happends next. Here it is, I finished my handling with you all, enjoy the fic

Traumas.

One…two…put a third on my tab. He didn’t have enough with his service on the war, Nate wake up after the apocalypse to collect a few more of course.

After menacing elder Maxson to kill himself if anything happens to Danse, both were spared, well, one exiled, the other one on watch but technically spared, to protect his now boyfriend the vault man lead the way the most far as possible from brotherhood members, he didn’t want anyone to see them around, so they head to the south to do some works for the Minutemens…and the east to find some robot of the mechanist but…it wasn’t enough, there was brotherhoods patrols anywere and even not wanting it Nate was a star, and absolutely interest man for so many people in the Commonwealth

General of the Minuteman, Paladin of the Brotherhood of Steel…Father of Father…oh my god his son was waiting for him to show up in the institute after deliverating helping the brotherhood to make a weapon to destroy them…his dying in cancer son…Nate was so afraid to confront his freacking 60 years old cancer father-son…he cant deal with this.

It was so hard to deal with his, to survive just to get this fucking poor results, to kill, and fight, and learn, and walk, and travel, and discover, and search to get revenge of his wife and get his son back just to…get such disappointment…yes he found Shaun but…it was nothing like he expected…and Shaun cant help loving him back, the 60 year old man cant love back a father he never take the time to meet…sure, he wanted to give something to his father, a gift, a right, something in exchange for all the pain and suffering he went just for him waking up in the Commonwealth, the vault man deserved it after fighthing so much but it wasn’t what Nate wanted…but at this point, it was the only thing he can give to his dad…Nate and Shaun weren’t in the same syntony…he didn’t know if Shaun cant love anything but surely his priorities weren’t loving back a man almost half his age…both were fighting for different things…

With heavy footsteps Nate remember the first day after he left Santuary to look for Shaun, not so far in the forest there was the corpse of a young lady with a note, there she explained that her parents kicked her for being pregnant from the wrong guy but she will manage no matter what…well Nate managed to get Shaun back and Shaun managed the Institute to…control the Commonwealth…and save the human kind?

The new paladin sighted, getting off old Danse power armor in a position that was a side to the bed in front of him, taking a moment outside to look and let his sight rest form the view of the helmet, making his eyes look to something real.

He was so tired of everything.

Never never never ever crossed his mind a thought of running when he was on service pre-war when things got rought, he see so many people on his squad die, help so many people on the nursery to try to save them, do the impossible to find items to help a doctor to save somebody, do the imaginable to help a soldier in distress in the field…but the Commonwealth and his horrors were crushing his mind…life was…so easy back then…the memory of a dirty precarious tent with people getting infections on a dirty matress while doctors do everything in their hands with poor equipment to save a leg of a artery hit with a bullet was a piece of cake compared to…this…

Right now, they were at Nuka-World…that’s enough setting…

Yeah lets go to Nuka-World they said…it would be fun they said…lets scape from the brotherhood so they don’t kill my boyfriend…lets scape from my responsabilities from a bit…lets run away from my son mad at me for not helping him to commit…things likely to happened in a dictatorship government...lets fucking to somewherelse no matter were…and here they are…

Danse looked at him, lately, Nate lost a bit of…sparkle…not like he was a very positive and enthusiastic man, he was still amazing and so powerfull and now is the leader of 3 gangs of different types of raiders so that’s impressive but…Danse figured out that Nate needed some time to be the same man again and…its only getting worse –Bussy day hu? –the vault man only give him a small smile, still standing looking tired at his power armor.

Yeah well Danse was unsure of what they were doing here, Nate said he wanted to come here since he get the news on his pip-boy radio but he catched up the hint that he wanted to…scape…to keep him safe…make him disappear from the brotherhood radio for a while…unfortunetly Nate was the most looked man in the Commonwealth so the timing wasn’t exactly good…better take this as a vacation…a small one…maybe if they are away from everything nothing will explode in their absence…lately Nate seemed pretty important for everybody, vital, essential…it wasn’t the most liable thing to do run away from the Commonwealth like that but…he can see on his face that he needed the time.

He wasn’t the same since the first day he went on the Institute, that day changed him.

-I didn’t see any shower

-Or running water –Danse looked around the “apartment”, there was no windows…it was windy and the night made everything colder, sure, on the noon it was nice because the sun hit directly but at night…-Are you sure you want to sleep here? We are a very vulnerable position

No shit Sherlock theres no windows or walls around, and we are trapped in a park of super psychos, people that literally tricks people to come here and die for fun! Nate put his hands of his face, resting a bit, closing his eyes.

-I sleep at worst places…and theres a king-size bed…they are rare to see…to bad the matress looks like somebody died there –that actually probably happened-but i…I need the rest…

-You are putting a lot of confidence in this people after what we see today –Danse was genuinely worried about being around this park of psycos, they were sheeps trapped in a pack of hungry, lusted and drugged wolfs…

Well, Nate was a Yao-Guai compared to them but still.

The new paladin sit on the bed, touching a bit to see if there was any rusted spring that could hurt him, then, touched the other matress, not apparently. Cool. So he went down and lay, making sings in the other matress for Danse to lay.

-Im the leader now. Get off the power armor and sleep with me, I already hide my fusion core

-No way im sleeping here with those crazy people around, ill make a watch for the night if you need it

Nate make his voice more deeper, annoyed

-Come to sleep Danse –sluddenly, the man understand, Danse went off his power armor, parking it in front of them in the bed, giving Nate the fusion core and then laying next to him. Gosh the smell of the matress was about to make him gag.

Once they were looking one to another, Nate grab him by the latex suit and whisper to him in the ear–Im sorry, I know I said a lot of strange things today that you didn’t like, I just making my best effort to blend in here, not used to be a motherfucker u now? It doesn’t come naturally for me

Since Nate comeback from the Institute, he went full paranoid, thinking there was spies everywhere, apparently, and even with being a synth, he trusted him to…talk about certain subjects, selected subjects, very well thinked subjects, but he will do it on almost inaudibles whispers.

-I know you weren’t really threatening people, don’t worry

-Just fitting to check on how things are going around…-Its not like he was planning on making genocide on the three raiders factions just because they were raiders and they deserved it but if they get enough on his nerves…and Danse wouldnt precisely judge him about it, they were raiders…that keep slaves…

-I understand, it just it sounds wrong coming from you, don’t worry –Nate smiled a bit, he wasn’t planning nothing yet, it was just the first day after fucking failing in the Gaulet…

He see a lot of this…raiders death laberynths, the mans should be artist or designers, such a creativity for immersive experiencies…there was a lot of this fucked up places around the Commonwealth, with recently dead people, decomposing corpses, heads on pickes, walls full of blood or gust from an explosion…but he was inside this one for a very extended period of time and see so much death with no fucking reason…crave on his head badly…

It makes his head spin in headches and sucked off his energy to live….hard to watch…difficult to let it pass in his mind…

Not like he trusted his sleeping ass in this place full of rapist but the images are really messing with his head…

-I see what ill do in the morning, this people are living here apparently for a year, I don’t think a night is that much risk…-Nisha, the leader of the Disiples make a rule for his followers that really craved into his heart: not let anyone find out…I mean only 8hs are a lot in that crazy town if you hear that and see heads on pikes every 10 meters but still…the images…

Ah…just bellow this bed he enter a door and the first thing he see is his foot over a pool of dirty water and blood…the place of that people weren’t different at all…bodies everywhere…limbs for decoration…slaves… living people Nate cant save right now…heads on pikes…on strange art games and representations…pools of guts and broken flesh…and the smell…the hedor of rot and decomposition…that people surely are cannivals, he didn’t see it today but…he didn’t find today a religious reason for that so there most be something more primal, more…fucked up…

He didn’t save that slaves today, Nate hoped tomorrow wasn’t too late.

-Want me to watch for the night? I don’t trust anybody here

They keep whispering, for safety.

-No, watch your words and manners, raiders are…special…very very susceptible to be judged as you see with Gale, if they see you from the windows not being chill they are going to be upset that you don’t trust your ass sleeping…lest blend…we are on a cage…we need to pretend we are also like them

-With no boundaries and with a fetish bloodlust

-Not to mention the trauma with power roleplay

Well he wasn’t going to be…visible on watch but wasn’t going to sleep either…Since Danse became aware he was a synth lately he was thinking…does he really needs to sleep? Yeah, his body might be very human, fleshy, fresh and real, like a person but…if his brain can become deactivated with just a single code he didn’t know…means that some process on his head were programmed to be robotic and others to be organic��what about the sleep then? Did he really needed it? It was something he do his whole life because his body thinked it was human and it is a human need? Now he is aware he is a robot…he can change his body and habits to his new nature?...

Lately, Danse was thinking and that, sleeping less everynight, luckily tonight he can stay awake, protect his boyfriend and not compromise his doubtful mental health for the morning…maybe he can stop sleeping at all with no repercusions over time!

-Anyway im just asking you…time…to figure this out…-the new paladin needed to shut his brain down, or the thought of the slaves he see down this damn apartment will stick with him the next 8 hours

-Again, don’t worry

-Sorry for bringing you here

-Im glad im here to watch your back

-Thoose laser turrents are hard to break man! –Nate finally posed his head over the dirty staw pillow…and he feeled it so disgusting against his neck and hair that he trow it to the window, frustrated and angry.

He really really hated sleeping in disgusting places.

The only good thing about the Institute were the clean sheets and matress to sleep.

And then went to close his eyes and sleep over his arm, trying to shut down his mind for a couple hours.

Danse watched him sleep, sleep bad, body atching from the cold of the night, there wasn’t a sheet or anything to cover and it was cold up there…now he was aware of his synth condition he was thinking about the temperatures…if he didn’t think about it…if he forget it…his mind didn’t actually…but it surely must affect to the human composition of his body…Nate had a friend in the Railroad who is a synth of his same generation…maybe he should ask him about this stuff…the more he can abandon his human flaws the more he can serve and protect Nate…well not right now he cant transform into a stove but he wouldn’t die of hypothermia…oh damn but Nate would! At thinking on him waking up tomorrow sick from cold Danse went up to make a fire, there was a kitchen…and some blowtorchs…and oil…he can make a fire somewhere, at least in a bucket to keep it close to the bed!

Sure he should pay attention that nothing gets on fire since the furniture around them was wood but no problem, better that than leave Nate froze to death!

Danse went up the bed, seeing him shake and move a lot in his sleep, pretty uncomfortable…and started searching for things to make a small fire…

Looking around the apartment he found a steel bucket…some pieces of a wooden furniture and…where the hell where the matches? Or something to blow up a fire! Danse knew he saw somewhere a blowtorch! Or maybe Nate used it to fix his old power armor before? Damnit!

But with his attention focus on the otherside of the apparment Danse loose his sight from Nate, who called his attention with a growl of effort and agitation after…taking some chems.

-Goddammit Nate! –said Danse frustrated trowing the bucket to the ground calling his attention with the sound, Nate went to look at him ashamed, he knew that Danse hated when he take drugs, especially when he catched it

-Sorry, couldn’t sleep, keep having nightmares –The ex paladin take a moment to look at his eyes with the moonlight, ok he had watery eyes because of the drugs or…something else?

-A soldier doesn’t need that crap to keep moving forward, leave it –Nate looked to other side, sure he didn’t want to disappoint Danse who was actually very pissed with the fact that sometimes his habits of consume are more stronger to…freacking avoid doing it when Danse is around but…

Again, Nate was a different person until he went to the Institute.

-I keep seeing piles of bodies –when he heard that, Danse exhaled frustrated and went back to the bed, sitting and opening his arms, Nate didn’t want to speak here loud and right now needed to be heard by only him.

It wasn’t good exactly that he had to run to please his needy breakdowns but they were in a very delicate position in enemy territory…better now have spies hearing this…weak conversation…

-In nightmares? –ask Danse, Nate went down to get on his legs and hug him…

-No…vivid memories…at the Disiples…just down here…theres a wall with exploded guts…theres a hedor so strong to human death…theres living people waiting for their death…-Nate was shivering, Danse was worried

-Are you afraid? –never had see him like that before…the indestructible man that hours before was taking down a raider lider in a indestructible power armor

-No…we can take them down…we did that kind of things before…but this is…sadism for free-Nate feel a cold shiver down his spine at remembering that maniqui kissing a head with the spine still attached-is much worse that sadism is…

-An abomination, I know –Danse also had that distruptibe feelings when he see a few hours ago that pile of human rest, stocked in the ground like dirty clothes

-You know im not sensitive

-I know, you have seen a lot

-But I step on a piece of human jaw for accident and I still feel against my boot the teeths on it, its like that person is chewing my foot sleeping for not killing them all in a rampage…because they deserve it

-What does this have to do with drugs? What did you even take this time?

-Day tripper, I need to light up my head a bit…blurry my thoughts and vision…if I cant focus on images Ill don’t know if whats crossing my mind is a torax or a cake…-Danse pressed and jerk a bit his hair, lightly, still, he understanded but he cant “understand” Nate and let him destroy himself with drugs, so it was his role to be upset that he takes chems…even if now seemed…necessary…again, seemed, not like it was…

-I saw it too you know

-It can break my limit sometimes…im not indestructible…-yes “you seem like it Nate” Danse thought caressing his hair.

-Im here…

-I know

-I thought you were freezing, go up to start a fire and put it near to you

-That’s a good idea, I was a bit cold too…but that’s not the reason I wake up…it was…really vivid…-Nate wasn’t crying but the trauma of that experiences were making his chest feel really thight, hurting, eyes watering because of the effort to not breakdown…

That was the Commonwealth for him, the filthiest placer ever…and he wasn’t a wall, his mind can break with horror sometimes…not necessary fear…but…the horrors of this kind of situations…messed up his thoughts.

Not in the war he saw this kind of…savage unnecessary behavior from human to human…

-Let me start that fire, it will help, were did you leave that blowtorch?

-Probably next to the power armor stand –stupid, why didn’t he think of that before –that people craves hearts from a still living human chest like nothing…-Nate chest was going up and down breathing hard at the memories…

-I understand –Nate wasnt afraid that anything could happened to him, he was just horrified this situation, the pain never stop-im going to say something awfull but…im glad you are able to feel this ways about this things sometimes…most of the time you don’t, and its practical and professional but its necessary to not let this pass this always…

Nate understanded Danse point of view, still, he didn’t want to feel this pain, he can awknocleg something bad and not be necessary affected by it to the point to feel all that loosen lives haunt him on his sleep like it was his fault that the world turned into hell 200 years ago

At not hearing a response for his…unfortunate comment Danse went up to take the bucket and make that fire, once he left the bucket next to him, away enough from the wood furniture, the blowtorch needed a pair of minutes to sucesfully mantein a low fire on the wood cropped pieces and not catch a big fire.

A few minutes passed until around the bed started to feel a bit bit bit warmer, making Nate groan relaxed, now his toes weren’t freezing atching inside his hard boots, that was a relief.

-Thanks for being at my side –once Danse lay again on the bed he hear that from Nate, making him smile- I had this moments before but…Dogmeat doesn’t confort the same about this dilemas…

-I know its hard for you, don’t worry, im here –the ex paladin put his hand over Nates cheek, seeing him smile, still with water eyes but with his chest moving way more calm than before.

-I love you –despite everything the new paladin was glad he take Danse with him, taking him out of the brotherhood chasing him

-Sleep babe, love you too.

Tomorrow they will find a way to get energy and water back, they weren’t going to wake up nice sleeping in that shitty matress, and it was a difficult day.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14228108/1/Traumas-at-the-Commonwealth

#fallout 4 #paladin danse x sole survivor #paladin danse #makahimefanfic

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etherealising · 1 year ago

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listen i look forward to your reblogs, like i’m literally frothing at the mouth. kicking my feet and giggling because I GET TO RESPOND TO YOU!! 💜

okay uhm WOW. WOWZA. this chapter was so fucking good - the angst, baby and carmy finally finding neutral ground again, the way that you wrote this absolutely batshit insane episode? it was all perfection.

this episode almost took the life out of me to write. there were so many moments i wanted to capture but also not basically just write out the whole episode, and deciding what scenes baby would be in was so much fun because she’s like an add in so putting her in every scene would have been a nuisance. but also giving her her own scenes with everyone was key!

i have my theories about what baby got him for christmas but I AM DYING TO KNOW WHATS IN THE BOX. IS IT KNIVES - DID SHE GET HIM THE KNIFE SET THAT HE USES? only time will tell but i feel like a little kid on christmas looking at all the presents under the tree and wishing i had x ray vision.

i can happily let you know that you can find out in interlude zero: dear carmy which is available now in all countries lol

richie🥹🥹 he is such a sweetie and this little tidbit made me giggle so much. baby really had tweedle dee and tweedle dum as pseudo-protective older brothers and i love that for her.

if i’m being honest, richie is my favorite character in the bear, like he’s just grieving and idk normal and he is the perfect representation of how hard change can be. i just love him!!

this is a weird little note but i absolutely love how much you’re building lore into the existing lore of the show, and in a way that doesn’t feel like too much. it feels like a directors cut almost? and i love that so much. i am so high and i feel like i am IN the story right now. (also fuck the haters who don’t like nicknames in x reader fics - i personally love it. i’d rather imagine myself as close enough to the family to have a nickname than disrupt the flow of writing with y/n every five seconds)

a director’s cut!?!?! i’m blushing! i just want baby to feel like she actually belongs in the bear, like you can imagine the scenes and see her in it, rather than just making her a place holder by randomly dropping her in there and recycling another character’s lines for her. also same like lets just all enjoy the amazingly written fics and move on with our lives : (

YIKKKKKEEEEEEESSSSSSSS. so carmy really be that asshole huh? what an unfortunate christmas for her - how did you somehow manage to make fishes even more tragic?

it was not my intention to make seven fishes anymore tragic but god did this chapter kill me. i think her mom’s passing helped readers to understand baby more, and why carmy cutting her off affected her so much. like it’s important to know that they had lives outside of each other but they were so close that the loss of contact disrupted things.

i fr love pete so much. like - i have a really hard time with my own in laws and having an in law like pete would be a game changer, somebody whose also on the outside that is so supportive and goofy and kind hearted

pete is really my bestie i love him soooo much. and i love that sugar has someone that’s gonna put her first and make sure she’s okay, pete is literally the sunshine in the bear lol.

he is so silly and goofy and protective🥹

mikey’s just sitting there like: ‘these two fucking idiots are so in love’ he definitely ships carmy x baby

oh. my. god. HE IS SO THAT ASSHOLE W T F F F F F F F FF F F

carmy really thought he could slither back in by bringing up a topic he THOUGHT WAS SAFE!!!! WRONG!!

wow my boy does have at least one brain cell! i think that is actually the bare fucking minimum that you could do at this point carmy.

also carmy: ‘a present will surely make this all better’

this is such a serious scene but i was laughing so hard at it during the show and this line made me laugh just as much. it fits in there so seamlessly.

sameee it was just so funny watching these two grown men fight like children and then the camera angles when mikey starts making the animal noises was a true masterpiece

lee is going to CATCH THESE HANDS in the applebees parking lot - we’ll see who has no backbone then

lee was so ugh, but the acting was phenomenal!

this is such a sweet and intimate moment after such a brutal moment. maybe! just maybe! carmy does still care.

a carmy redetmption arc is something we all need (although idk about that after dear carmy…)

ahhhh yes, a good old fashioned olive branch and a good amount of time alone to talk it out

carmy’s trying doesn’t really count if he’s still in his dumb bitch era : ( sadly carmy doesn’t understand the mechanics of “talking”

baby is so brave because if i walked into this it would be on sight. who gave him the audacity to be this hot? he knows what he’s doing putting the highlighter between his teeth like that.

the white tank top?!?! the slutty gold chain?!?! the highlighter between his teeth?!?! mans is a menace

this whole scene is so domestic i’m screaming and THIS TATTOO. THIS TATTOO KILLED ME.

i loved writing the tattoo scenes, the whore in me *almost* made this smut, but the lover in me was chanting ‘slowburn’

you are so welcome!! i literally won’t post a chapter until i find a gif that i think fits best (also gives me an excuse to perv on all the carmy gifs) 💜

chapter 3 | lavender vanilla

↢ previous chapter | next chapter ↣

pairings: platonic!mikey berzatto x fem!reader | carmen berzatto x fem!reader | platonic!richie jerimovich x fem!reader

summary: christmas dinner commences, you and carmy put your differences aside for a night.

wc: 6.9k

The sound of laughter could be heard through the door of Donna’s bedroom. The two women occupying it caught up with each other like no time had passed at all. You were laying down on the end of Donna’s bed, elbow propped up so your hand could hold your head up. Tiff laying in front of you sitting up slightly from you adjusting her pillows when you had first made an appearance in the room.

“Wait so Richie actually blew up your mom’s microwave?” The words coming out between the laughs that had been wracking Tiffany’s body. Eyes glistening with unshed tears as she listened to your account of the story.

You sat up rapidly head nodding to confirm Tiff’s question, “Exactly, Mikey volunteered to pick my mom and I up from her chemo appointment, and Richie bless his soul was trying to make dinner for us.” You paused as you couldn’t stop giggling at the memory, “He couldn’t find any plates, so he put fucking foil in the microwave, and by the time we got home the house was full of smoke and there were scorch marks on the wall.” You couldn’t help but to lean over clenching your stomach at the belly aching laugh the memory induced. Tiff doing no better hand gently cradling her bump as she tried to catch her breath.

Finally getting enough air into her lungs Tiff spoke up, “Wha-What did your mom do?” She searched your eyes waiting to hear your explanation. Your own laughter had finally settled down allowing you to finish your story, “Absolutely nothing! My mom was so sweet on Richie he could’ve burnt the house down and she would’ve thanked him for it!” The laughter in the room took over once again as the two of you imagined how much your mom’s little crush inflated Richie’s ego.

The two of you had finally calmed down sitting in the ambience that a memory from your younger years left behind. Tiff did her best to sit up, careful not to move too quickly in case it induced a bout of nausea. Her hands reached out gently clasping yours in her embrace, “I’m sorry she couldn’t be here with us today.” The slight squeeze she sent your hands conveying the raw emotion she felt, the small sad smile gracing her lips doing their best to comfort you.

You nodded, sending your own small smile her way, eyes quickly leaving hers to dart around the room, not comfortable enough to see the earnestness in her blue eyes. You cleared your throat trying to ground yourself, “Ahem, yeah…yeah it's a little weird, first Christmas without her and everything.” You let out a pathetic little laugh doing your best to not let the gloomy feeling settle over the room.

You squeezed Tiff’s hands back finally finding her eyes again, “Speaking of, she actually made something for you-well for the baby actually.” You motioned to Tiff’s stomach trying to move the conversation along to something much more light-hearted. “I’ll just go get it yeah, I want you and Richie to open it together.” Tiff nodded eyes misting at your mom’s selflessness in what must have been a debilitating time for her.

Smiling at Tiff one last time you quickly got up to make your way downstairs to where Carmy had hang your coat and bag. You made your way down stairs laughter and loud voices coming from the direction of the living room. You made it to the closet where your belongings were quickly grabbing your keys out of your tote bag you debated slipping your coat on before ultimately deciding it wouldn’t be necessary. You could hear Mikey’s voice as you made your way out the door, he and Richie recounting one of their many tales. You quickly slipped through the door making sure it closed behind you as to not let any cold air in.

Rushing to your car you popped the trunk reaching for the Christmas themed gift bag. You reached up to shut your trunk wanting to hurry and get back inside when your eyes landed on the large matte black box sitting in your trunk. A matching black bow and envelope atop of it, the white ink that spelled out Carmy’s name glaring back at you.

You let go of the trunk letting out an exasperated sigh. You hand planned on personally giving him the gift and watching as he opened it, wanting to see his reaction. But as your brain thought about the argument you had with him earlier, that hope quickly dwindled. You sat the gift bag on top of the box before reaching to pick up the box itself, shutting your trunk and locking your car. The sound of another car door closing caught your attention, Pete making his way towards you from across the street, hand going up in a little wave to greet you. You smiled racing your hand holding your car keys to return his greeting.

Deciding to wait for him so you could walk in together, your eyes took in the aluminum tray grasped in his hands, “Oh shit.” The expletive left your lips as Pete finally took his place by your side, his wide goofy grin drawing your eyes, he balanced the tray in one hand to give you a side hug that you willingly leaned into. “Baby you look great! How’ve you been?” You smiled, seeing Pete before re-entering the house was like a breath of fresh air. The two of you began your trek up the sidewalk.

“Doing my best Pete. Um what cha got in your hands there?” Your head nodding to the tray held in his hands. Pete followed your vision before smiling back at you “Tuna casserole! Couldn’t come empty handed you know.” Pete’s happy go lucky energy bringing a small smile to your face, the two of you stopped before entering the house. You adjusted the box in your hands, free hand reaching out to gently squeeze Pete’s bicep.

“Oh you poor kind soul, they’re gonna fuck you up in there.” The words cause Pete’s smile to falter as you send him a toothy one of your own before walking through the door and holding it open for Pete to walk through. As you both walked through the front entrance you caught the tail end of what sounded to have been a hostile conversation, Pete stealing the show by making his presence known. You had half the mind to leave Pete to defend himself, but a part of you would’ve felt bad for letting someone as sweet as Pete take the heat alone. You walked around Pete sitting on the arm of the chair Mikey was sitting in, his arm going to wrap around your waist unconsciously.

“You know it’s seven fishes, right Pete?” Mikey’s question drew the rest of the room's attention to the tray Pete was still happily holding. The room burst with voices as almost everyone took turns berating Pete. You leaned back slightly so you weren’t blocking Mikey’s view before turning your head in Richie’s direction hoping to gain his attention.

You reached behind Mikey’s back to pinch Richie’s arm his eyebrows shooting up an offended look on his features as his head turned to you, “What the fuck was that for Baby? Pete’s the one with the eighth fish.” You rolled your eyes hand grabbing the gift bag from its place on the box, maneuvering around Mikey’s imposing body before handing it off to Richie, “Merry Christmas Richie, its for you and Tiff so don’t open it without her,” You scolded raising your eyebrows to further cement your message. “It's from mom, she um, she didn’t get to finish it so I apologize if my knitting skills didn’t do it justice.” The last part quickly added on in a joking tone as you noticed Richie’s eyes taking on a solemn look to them.

He gently grabbed the gift bag out of your hand, a slight nod sent in your direction as he gave your hand a comforting squeeze. “Thank you Baby, means a lot.” You smiled back quickly, turning back to the conversation, not wanting to get caught up in any more unwanted emotions.

Carmy’s voice breaking through the onslaught of shit Pete was getting, “Hey, family. Come on, let’s sit. Okay dinner’s ready, alright.” Your eyes connected with his baby blues as you subtly tried to adjust the envelope sitting on the box so the bow could hide the recipient’s name. Your gaze was snatched away from Carmy as your attention was directed to Mikey who was whispering in your ear. Carmy did his best not to let the sight bother him, Mikey drilling his ass in the pantry earlier about what he accused the two of you of. It was hard not to though when you had so comfortably leaned into Mikey’s body whispering your own secret back into his ear, the sight of Mikey’s thumb rubbing gentle circles in the material of your shirt that was covering your waist causing Carmy’s head to spin, quickly removing his attention to Pete to ease his insecurities.

You hadn’t noticed Carmy’s eyes glued to you as you exchanged hushed whispers with Mikey, “What the fuck did you end up buying him?” Mikey’s words caressed your lips as his free hand tapped against the present sitting in your lap. You followed his hands before whispering back to him, “Something that I’m not even sure was worth saving up like 10 paychecks for this shit.” You scoffed feeling a bit miffed about the present since you and Carmy were still on uncertain terms. Mikey nodded a smile gracing his lips as he softly bumped his head into yours, “He’ll appreciate it Baby, I know he will.” You sent him a hopeful smile, you may have been annoyed with the youngest Berzatto and his antics, but you really did want him to like the gift.

“Yo Baby, Baby.” Your eyes found Carmy’s as he called for your attention, “What is that? What the fuck is Pete holding?” You quickly looked at Pete feeling bad that he was on trial before finding Carmy’s eyes again, a small smile finding your lips as you sent a shrug in his direction, not wanting to be the one to rat Pete’s good intentions out.

Carmy modded lips pursing as he wiped his hands down his face as he turned his attention to Steve knowing he’d give him a straight answer, “You’re gonna be upset, but his heart was in the right place, Carm. It’s a tuna casserole.” The slight flush you could see creeping up Carmy’s neck indicating the toll this mishap was taking on him.

You leaned into Mikey more, settling into a more comfortable position as you drowned out the rest of Pete’s trial. You were ready for the day to be over and you hadn’t even eaten dinner yet, you could feel your eyes slowly drifting shut as Mikey’s warm body pressed into your side, each rise and fall of his broad chest pulling you into the purgatory before sleep and consciousness.

The sound of Sugar’s voice jumping onto the tuna casserole bandwagon roused you from the little peacefulness you were beginning to find. You watched with drowsy eyes as she snatched the dish from his hands presumably disposing of it, you softly pat Mikey’s thigh before removing yourself from your seat intending to find somewhere to drop Carmy’s present off at. You stopped in the threshold of the door sending Pete a small smile, “If it makes you feel better Donna threatened to beat my mom’s ass when we showed up with collard greens and baked Mac n cheese our first Christmas here.” You gave a soft pat to his elbow hoping the anecdote helped him feel someone better.

You left the living room, eyes looking around for a practical spot to leave Carmy’s present. You debated leaving it on the small side table in the hallway, but you weren’t too sure if anyone would give it a second thought. Carmy stopped in the doorway of the kitchen as he found you standing in the hallway, the matte black box still clutched in your hands. He had half a mind to hide out in the kitchen until you left but knew he’d probably get shit from his mom about it.

He cleared his throat, gaining your attention as he took a few steps to lessen the distance between you. His hand raising up to scratch the back of his neck, eyes not meeting yours as he prepared himself to interact with you, “Ahem, I uh I overheard what you said to Pete. Is your mom doing okay? Was the trip out here too much for her?”

You stared at Carmen eyes cold and unwavering, you knew his question held no malicious intent but it still felt like a slap to the face. The silence from you finally caused Carmy’s eyes to meet your own, the soft color of your irises giving nothing away.

“She died eight months ago Carmen.” Carmy felt like his whole world had stop the voices in the background drowinng out as the bubble the two of you were standing in was filled with nothing but silence.

Carmy’s arm raised his head forcefully running through his hair, head darting to the side to compose himself. “Shit Baby, I’m sorry I-I didn’t know.”

You nodded eyes straying to the present in your hands swallowing the lump in your throat, “How would you?” An out of place laugh leaving your lips as you looked at Carmy, the kicked puppy expression on your face making you feel a little bad. Letting out a sigh you shook your head, “I’m sorry Carmy, that wasn’t fair.”

Carmy copied your motions, his own hand shaking as he reached out a gentle unsure hand to lay on top of yours, “No no, uh I think I deserved that one.” His boyish smile doing its best to offer you some form of comfort in this moment. Your eyes dropped to his mouth, the smile you hadn’t seen in so long unconsciously causing one to appear on your own lips, head dropping to the calloused hand gently on yours.

The hand quickly retreated to its owner, Carmy not wanting to push anymore boundaries, eyes looking at the box one more time a scapegoat from this conversation, “Uh so what’s in the box?” His hand gestured to the rather large decorative box that looked quite fancy now that he could see it up close.

You let out a shy chuckle, “It's uh actually for you. Merry Christmas.” You held out the box to him urging him to take it out of your hands. His eyes shot down to the box, surprised you had even thought about him, “If you don’t feel like opening it now I could just leave it in your room.” Your head motioning up the stairs.

Carmy stepped back nodding his head, “Uh yeah please if you don’t mind.” He sent you an awkward smile, guilt creeping up his chest. You smiled turning to head up stairs and drop his present off, he called out to you as made it halfway up the stairs. You stopped turning to face him, “I uh, I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything.”

Carmy watched as you drew your lips up into a broad smile. He knew it was fake though, that small sparkle wasn’t in your eyes, the edges of them not crinkling either the way he had once been used to your pretty teeth not making an appearance for him either. He watched as you sent him a small shrug, “It’s okay Carmy, I wasn’t expecting one anyway.” You resumed your journey upstairs to his room.

Carmen was left alone at the bottom of the staircase, eyes still glued to the spot you were just minutes ago. He closed his eyes trying to get a deep breath into his lungs. Carmy was trying to understand how he had ever deserved to once have you in his life, he was a grade A fucking asshole to you, and you still treated him with the same love and thoughtfulness you always had. Carmy made a decision in that moment, as soon as this night was over, he was buying you a fucking Christmas present.

You closed the door behind you as you exited Carmy’s childhood room, the air of nostalgia pressing down on you while you were in there almost suffocating you. You had been in there entirely too long, easily getting caught up in how much easier life was when you and Carmy used to build pillow forts and tell ghost stories in there. You had meant to just place the present at the foot of his bed and go, but you found yourself getting caught up in the memories and flipping through the various culinary books that had been sitting on the nightstand paying extra close attention to the pages that had been tabbed.

By the time you made it to the dining room everyone had sat down and the only empty seat was to the right of Sugar and directly across from Carmy. You walked in brows pitched together at the commotion that could be heard, eyes locking with Carmy’s at the same time something aggressively hit your thigh.

A chorus of “Michael” could be heard around the dining room. You looked down at the sound of metal clanging against metal, one fork laying next to your foot another a little ways in front of it. Bending down you scooped the two forks up in your hand. You looked around the table even more confused than you already were eyes darting to Mikey as he threw his arms open in greeting, “Baby! Nice of you to join us, mind doing me a favor and handing me those forks?” Your eyes flashed to the forks in your hand before taking in everyone’s expressions around the table.

You had no clue what you had just walked into. You looked in Carmy and Nat’s direction, the two of them subtly shaking their heads. Your eyes found Mikey’s again a little unnerved by the look in his eyes, “They were just on the floor so I’ll just go wash them off real qui-.”

The sound of palms slamming against the table cut off your explanation causing you to flinch where you were standing, eyes still glued to Mikey, “Sorry Baby, I’m sorry,” his hands raised in a placating gesture. “Just hand me the forks alright, don't needa wash ‘em off,” You gulped your head nodding slowly as you took the few steps in Mikey’s direction. He carefully took them from your grip, a mocking smile pulling at his lips.

You gave him a small nod quickly retreating to your seat. You shuffled your chair in Stevie helping to push the back of it. All was silent for a moment as everyone looked at each other, you doing everything in your power to avoid anyone’s eyes. A quiet laugh broke the silence followed a whispered “Of fucking course.”

Mikey’s eyes snapped back to Lee eyes zeroing in on the older man, “What did you just say?” The question sounded more like a demand to your ears. Lee laughed again shrugging his shoulders turning his own eyes to glare at Mikey, “I said of course she’s gonna fucking do what you say the girl has no fucking backbone.”

An echo of “Lee,” and “What the fuck,” could be heard from both Richie and Cicero, one trying to the diffuse the situation, the other not settling for the unwarranted disrespect thrown at you. Your head shot up a frown decorating your features eyes locking on Carmy’s as he shook his a head a plea for you to ignore it and not further feed into the chaos

You ignored Carmy turning in your chair to face Lee, “What the fuck is that supposed to mean Lee?” Stevie’s hand reached up to lightly pat your shoulder trying to calm you down before aggressively being shrugged off.

Lee faced you with a sardonic smile pressing into his lips “Is somebody gonna tell her? Do I have to tell her?” He looked around the table looking for anyone to take the reins from him, “I’m sorry that nobodies honest with you sweetheart, but you’re just a glorified lap dog.” He shrugged his shoulders as if in apology, “Just a bitch he keeps on a leash.”

Your mouth opened a little bit confused as to how this conversation had become a personal attack on you. Everyone at the table had brought forth different reactions after that revelation, anyone who knew Mikey knew he didn’t take kindly to disrespect thrown your way. You felt a foot nudge yours under the table taking you away from the ensuing chaos. You turned to Sugar who was focused on the scene in front of her too worried about Mikey to be paying attention to you. You felt the nudge again, eyes finding Carmen's eyebrows raised in a silent question, eyes searching your face to catch any remaining emotions, you smoothed out the frown on your face sending him a small nod to let him know you were fine.

The two of you were drawn back to the argument before you as the two men began berating each other again, voices growing louder by the second. You watched Mikey’s face lose any sort of emotion as Lee took a shot at his drug use. You felt your heart squeeze in your chest at Mikey’s reaction, you couldn’t lie you thought both men were being extremely childish but you hated how that was one of the things people latched onto when purposely trying to hurt Mikey.

The table remained silent; the only sound filling the room was the ticking of a clock in the background, everyone doing their best to not cause any reasons to incite more violence. The anxiety caused you to bounce your leg up and down unsure as to where the rest of this night was going, you felt a foot gently tap the toe of your shoe, something Carmy used to do whenever you needed reassurance that everything would be okay and other forms of physical contact were impossible.

You watched as Mikey pawned Pete’s fork from its set place, an uproar going around the table pleading with Mikey. You sat there silently watching the scene if 10 other people hadn’t already gotten through to Mikey, you were sure and 11th voice joining the mix would be completely useless at this point.

Sugar’s voice cut through the chaos attention zeroed in on Mikey, “Michael. Please don’t do this.” You watched as Mikey focused his attention on Sugar, “I love you.” Being her final plea as Mikey seemed to be weighing his options. The discourse between the two continued as everybody watched with bated breath waiting to see what the next move would be.

Steve’s unwarranted giggle broke Michael’s focus, his rush of apologies being brushed off by Mikey all in the name of fun. Cicero decided he might be the one to finally get through to Mikey playing his hand at mediator. You watched Mikey’s erratic behavior in silence, you weren’t usually privy to this side of Mikey, never being in town long enough to catch one of his episodes. It scared you, and it wasn’t necessarily Mikey that was scaring you but knowing that his switch could be flipped in such a timely manner that had you worrying about his safety.

The argument being nowhere near resolved as Lee’s constant instigating kept fueling the fire. Mikey’s sudden movement to stand up caused your heart to race, you honestly couldn’t give two shits about Lee’s wellbeing, your only concern was Mikey and what was going through his head at that moment.

You held your head in your hands that were propped up on the table by your elbows, the impending headache beginning to make an appearance. The animal noises coming from Mikey’s direction doing nothing to ease the ache behind your eyes. Doing your best to drown out Lee’s constant attack on Mikey’s character.

The clapping around the table drawing your head up as Donna danced into the dining room, you felt so exhausted you couldn’t even muster up a fake smile to appease her. “What did I miss?” Donna laughed as she made her way to her seat, a quiet “nothing” being her answer. “I missed something,” she said while sitting in her designated spot.

Donna’s eyes met yours, letting out another laugh “Jesus you look fucking miserable Baby. I definitely missed something.” You let out a small chuckle forcing your lips into a pathetic smile, you hand coming up to play with your own fork that was sat on the place mat, “Nothing Mama D, just Lee being a fucking cunt.”

The table fell quiet any hope for a somewhat peaceful family dinner squandered by your remark. All eyes flocked to Donna as she let out a full belly laugh, hand coming down to hit the table. The same hand moving up to point at you, “Now that’s fucking funny Baby.” A shit eating grin stretching across your face, Carmy letting out an exasperated sigh at his mom feeding into your antics.

“Uh, Stevie, Stevie’s about to say grace, Ma.” Mikey interjected trying to stir Christmas dinner back on his rightful course, Donna looked appeased eyes happily finding Steve’s figure as she waited for him to begin. A small back and forth between Mikey and Stevie ensued before that latter began his prayer.

“Um..Hey. Uh.. that we’re all…” Michelle’s laugh interrupting her partner causing you to laugh but quickly stopping at the soft pinch on your thigh earned from Sugar. You fell silent as you listened to Stevie give what seemed more like an awkward ramble rather than a prayer.

You could feel Carmy’s eyes darting across your figure as Stevie gave his explanation of what he thought the seven fishes symbolized. “I think that spending time and using that time on the people that we love is how we show them that we love them.” You had looked up in that moment, eyes connecting with Carmy’s piercing blue ones. Neither of you gave into the urge to look away, instead drinking each other in like two plants feeling the first drop of rain after a drought.

Your attention both drawn away by Donna’s quiet sniffles a chorus of praises sent in her direction in order to calm her aching heart.

“You okay?” Natalie’s question causes you to flop back in your chair, eyes clenching shut. You knew all Nat had was good intentions and would always be the first one to put Donna’s mental well-being first, but you also knew what it felt like to feel so overstimulated that those two measly would send you in a downward spiral.

“Do you know how much I fucking hate it when you ask me that? Do I not look okay Natalie?” Donna’s mood shifted just as quickly as it had been the whole day. Her unknown limit was reached in the span of a minute.

“Not really.” Michelle’s subtle shade drew a hardly restrained laugh out of you, “Oh, fuck you Michelle.” Donna snapped before setting her sights on you, “Is something funny Baby? Hmm?” The question causes the lingering smile to immediately drop your back going straight against the chair, your head quickly shaking back and forth throat clearing before answering Donna, “No ma’am.” You admitted head still on a swivel to ease Donna’s agitation.

You glanced at Carmy, his whole being sunken in as he looked at you as if your existence was exhausting him at this moment. Regardless of Carmen’s look you know your mom would’ve crucified your ass for walking into Donna Berzatto’s house and feeling comfortable enough to disrespect her not only to her face, but with a bunch of her peers around.

“Are you motherfuckers okay?” Donna continued on letting her subdued rage out the table silent so as to not enrage her any further. “Fuck you!” The smashing of glass as the plate hit the ground causing you to flinch, leg knocking into Carmy’s from the sudden noise, his knee tapping yours twice to reassure you everything would be fine.

Donna made her exit while berating Sugar, who sat there speechless unaware of why her need to make sure her mom was well was taken as a personal attack. Lee’s unprovoked comment about Donna’s tirade irritating you along with Michelle’s comment about it being her worst moment.

It was funny to you how each and everyone sitting at this table would drag themselves here every year. To sit in Donna’s house, to eat Donna’s food. To reap the rewards of the countless hours of Donna’s hard work, only to dismiss her because she had become so overstimulated the only reaction she knew to give was unadulterated rage.

You saw Mikey’s hand move before the fork flew across the table narrowly missing Lee’s head. The older man jumping up no longer tolerating the eldest Berzatto’s antics, Mikey following suit the clattering of the dishes loud as he threw his side of the table. The two men trying to force themselves out of the arms of the people holding them back seemingly ready to tear each other apart.

Silence fell upon the room as a loud crash was heard, the screeching of tires following after. You stood up from your seat mouth dropping open at the Mercedes Benz now sitting in the dining room. Mikey’s voice screaming at Donna to open the door as Sugar tightly grasped your arm lingering on the table, trying to ground herself. The two of you are the only remaining guests still sitting down. Your eyes followed Carmy’s as he stared blankly at the fork lodged into a cannoli.

Your head was pounding at this point, the small headache from earlier now feeling more like a migraine. You slipped your arm from Sugar’s grasp removing yourself from the dining room table as quietly as you could, you quickly walked to the front door. Every bone in your body was screaming at you to walk out that door and not come back, to protect your own peace. You plopped down on the porch step head resting against your knees, as much as you wanted to leave, your heart wouldn’t allow you to leave the Berzatto siblings to this mess alone.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come home with us?” Sugar asked one final time as her and Pete were standing in the open doorway. “Pete will take you to the airport in a couple of hours.” You smiled pulling Sugar into a hug, the two of you lingering in the other’s embrace a much needed hug after the day you had.

You pulled back, placing a kiss against her cheek, “Get home Nat, I’ll have Mikey drop me off.” You could tell she was ready to protest but Pete grabbed her elbow gaining her attention, “She’s right you need rest.” You nodded in agreement with Pete, happy that Nat had found someone who would always put her first.

“Listen to Pete Nat, I promise I’ll be fine,” You gave her hand a squeeze the uncertainty still clinging to her features before she let out an exhausted sigh head nodding as she pulled you into one last quick hug. “Call me as soon as you get home okay?” It was your turn to nod, urging the two of them out the door before closing and locking it behind them.

You leaned your head against the cool surface of the door, you had no desire to sit on a plane for four hours, but you also had no desire to extend your stay in Chicago for longer than needed. Sighing you made your way into the kitchen to make sure all the appliances were turned off before flipping off the lights and making your way to the stairs.

The closing of a door caught your attention, your eyes shooting up and landing on Carmy’s tired face, the bags under his eyes seeming to have darkened from the stress of the day. He stopped in his tracks looking at you as well, eyes not blinking for a moment, “You’re still here?” His question caused you to frown confused at the hostile question.

His eyes darted across your face, throat clearing, “No, I uh didn’t mean it like that. Just thought you would’ve been gone by now.” You nodded understanding where he was coming from. “I’m actually looking for Mikey, have you seen him? He’s supposed to take me to the airport.”

Carmy felt his jaw clench at the mention of Mikey, he was getting real fucking tired of hearing about the two of you together. He didn’t know why it bothered him so much but he hadn’t expected to be spending his first Christmas home in a while worrying about Mikey’s role in your life.

“Uh, Mikey took off a bit ago. I don’t think he’ll be home anytime soon.” You felt your eyes instinctively close a tired sigh escaping through your lips. The last thing you wanted to do was head to the airport this early and wait for your flight. You had hoped you’d be able to catch a quick nap before heading out.

“I could, ahem, I could drive you.” You watched as Carmy ran a hand through his hair, eyes looking everywhere but you, “I mean only if you want though you know?” You felt a small smile tug at your lips, Carmy's awkward behavior endearing to you, you could tell he felt self-conscious about even offering up such an idea, and you understood, it was kind of out of left field for two people who hadn’t been on the best of terms.

“Honestly Carmy I would fucking love that,” You smiled in his direction thankful that you could count on one of the Berzatto brothers. “Um do you think I can take a shower though, kind of just wanna wash the day off.” You gave a small chuckle to try and alleviate any tension your request may have caused.

You watched Carmy’s head nod rapidly, words failing him in that moment. He turned heading to his childhood room expecting you to follow in his footsteps. You entered behind him, the room feeling impossibly smaller with the two of you now taking up space. You watched Carmy frantically move around the room returning to your side with a stack of clothes in his hand, you smiled gratefully taking the clothes from his hand before making your way towards the en suite.

Carmy watched as you closed the door behind you, hands moving to run down his face as his brain tried to piece together how after everything that had gone down today, you were taking a shower in his childhood bathroom.

You stepped out of the shower quickly wrapping the fluffy towel that you had found under the sink around your body. Your hand reached up to wipe the steam off the mirror, you stood there for a moment taking in your appearance grateful to have taken a shower but a little nervous about spending time in close quarters with Carmy after being apart for so long.

Your eyes turned to the pile of clothes sitting atop the countertop, you took inventory of the items. A white tee shirt that you just knew hugged Carmy deliciously, sweats that were sure to be baggy on your frame, a pair of socks and boxers you hoped had been washed prior to being offered to you.

The lotion bottle sitting next to the sink caught your attention, not giving it a second thought as you reached for Carmy’s signature scent lathering it on your body and quickly getting dressed. You exited the bathroom throwing your damp towel in the hamper next to the bathroom door. Taking a step into the room your eyes found Carmy sitting on his twin sized bed, legs propped up as a book rested on his knees, highlighter clenched between his teeth as he raptly read his book.

It wasn’t the position that kept your focus though. It was the tank top that showed off his toned biceps, shoulders sculpted just right. His signature gold chain complimenting the white tank top. You did your best to stop staring, eyes skating across his ink covered skin as an excuse to keep checking him out.

“You’re staring.” Your eyes shot to Carmy’s face, his eyes still stuck on his book. You cleared your throat gaining his attention, hand gesturing to the door behind you, “I hope you don’t mind I kind of used your shower gel…and your lotion.” Carmy nodded listening to you speak, “I drew the line at your 2in1 Head and Shoulders though, that was a real disappointment Carmen.” You sent him a teasing smile as you made your way to his bedroom door.

“Wait where are you going?” You stopped looking back at Carmy confusion washing over your face, “I was just gonna nap on the couch, I don’t want to intrude in your space any longer,” You calmly explained. Carmy stared at you for a few minutes, bright eyes drilling holes into your own, you watched as he moved to the opposite side of the bed before patting the spot he had just been in “Just uh, nap here okay?” You felt your heart rate pick up at the gesture, a little annoyed that basic human decency had your heart trying to race out of your chest.

Carmy raised his eyes in your direction waiting for you to take the spot. You quickly shuffled over, adjusting the pillow so you could lay down comfortably. You laid down on your right side, head facing Carmy, studying his face as he read. Watching as every few minutes he would highlight a sentence he probably found particularly interesting. His eyes so focused on what was in front of him you almost wondered if his body remembered how to blink. Your eyes traced down the side of his face, gliding down his neck and landing on his gold chain that caused your body to warm, your tongue peeking out unconsciously to lick your lips.

Continuing your path across Carmy’s shoulder your hand reached up to gently caress his ‘773’ tattoo. Index finger tracing every number before making its way down to what appeared to be a measuring cup holding the world.

Carmy’s head shot in your direction at the first touch of your soft finger against his skin, he watched your finger carefully tracing the ink lining his arms. He saw the concentration on your face doing his best to hold back a sigh at the feel of your skin against his. He had to convince himself to not reach out and push the hair out of your face to get a clear view of what you looked like at this angle. Carmy allowed you to continue your investigation, his own eyes darting across the visible side of your face, eyes falling to your pulse point imagining what it would feel like to place his hand there. His eyes were drawn to the medium sized ‘B’ in a typewriter-like font painted in the space behind your ear.

Carmy shakily reached out hand cupping the left side of your neck as his thumb gently ran back and forth over the single letter, “Baby?” You looked up at Carmy eyes meeting his as he tapped the ink behind your ear to signify what he was questioning. You gulped feeling the tension in the air as his eyes searched back and forth between your own.

“It could stand for Berzatto if you wanted it to.” You weren’t sure where the confidence to allow that whisper to leave your lips came from, but you weren’t going to pretend you regretted it.

You watched Carmy’s Adam's apple bob up and down. The grip of his hand tightening against your neck momentarily as he coughed before removing his hand. Eyes leaving yours as he shut the book still laying in his lap and placed it on the bedside table, “Ahem, It's late, get some rest I’ll wake you when it's time to leave.” You were given no time to interject as Carmy turned off his bedside lamp and turned so his back was facing you.

You sighed eyes now piercing the space between his shoulder blades. Leaning forward you pressed a small gentle kiss to the bare skin of his shoulder. “Goodnight Carmen. Sweet dreams.” You turned as well, not even being able to face his back.

Carmy’s breath caught in his throat, your lips feeling as if they had been branded into his skin. He took the chance adjusting his own body around, the size of his childhood bed causing the two of you to be pressed flushed together. The soft gasp you let out causing his heart to race his mind going a mile a minute, thoughts doing their best to talk him out of whatever the hell he thought he was doing right now.

His arm found its way around your waist pulling you impossibly closer to him, your backside pretty much in his lap at this point. Neither of you said a word. Carmy's face made its home in the crook of your neck. The faint scent of your lavender and vanilla perfume lulling him into a dreamlike state.

a/n: goodness did i hate the first draft of this chapter : ( and i still hate this draft, but the carmy x reader fluff at the end made me feel better lol. the family dinner truly killed me though and i’m so glad to be done with the christmas arc. i hope you all enjoy please like/reblog/comment or interact in whatever way you feel comfortable. i appreciate you all so much thank you for the support! 💜

idk if this needed to be said or not but this is obviously and AU at this point lol

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i hope i got everyone, strikethrough means i couldn’t tag : (

#all i ever knew only you ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊#vee rants 🩵#[aiekoy]#i live for your reblogs!!!#it makes me so happy to read your analysis!!!#atp i post just for your reblogs!!#thank you so much!!!

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purrincesskittens · 3 years ago

Text

Star Eyes, Zuko is mistaken as Water Tribe.

Gift for @muffinlance based off this post and this one

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It was night when they found him. A quick examination showed blood on the back of his head. As they pounded on his back someone noted his eyes. “Gold eyes.” They called. “Are you fire nation?” The boy lifted his head and the light of the lantern caught his eyes reflecting back at them. “Of course I am.” The kid snarls. “Star Eyes.” Someone breathed. Shit this kid was one of theirs. “Could be the child of a war bride.” Was suggested by someone. “At least he’s not a fire bender.” There was a laugh that was quickly interrupted by the star eyed boy himself. “Yes I am.” “Well that was.... honest.”

Star eyes were only something seen in the water tribes though. Even if this kid was a fire bender he had to be water tribe. More then likely the result of a woman stolen from her tribe during a raid and raised as Fire Nation since he looked enough of the part. But he was young, probably just recruited or practically forced into joining the military. There was a easy way to figure out how dangerous this kid was or rather how much more dangerous he was considering he was a fire bender.

“Have you ever killed someone?” Hakoda asks crouching before the boy lifting his chin in one hand so the boy had to look him in the eye with those gold colored star eyes. “What? No ... I don’t think.... No.” The kid seemed confused the blood on the back of his head suggested a head wound but this kid was young probably just assigned to a ship only to get knocked overboard by either by a storm or by another soldier. Those eyes probably didn’t make him popular or the fact that this kid’s eyes kept sliding away from Hakoda’s own suggested he may be a fey child.

“What do we do with him?” Somebody asks as they watch the kid cough up water, curling and uncurling his fingers against the wood of the deck his eyes cast down. “We keep him for now. His mother is probably Water Tribe war bride if he is star eyed. Have Kustaa check him over and if he survives we figure out what to do from there." Hakoda announces to the crew. They took care of their own and until they figured out who his mother was and could turn him over to her family if she had any left the crew of the Akhult would take care of him for now. Half Water Tribe and the child of a war bride was still Water Tribe and like hell were they going to turn him over to the Fire Nation to continue using as a weapon.

Kustaa later informed him the boy had hypothermia as well as potentially severe head trauma it was hard to tell right now. The kid mistook him for his uncle. Which uncle they weren't sure. It's possible the boy's mother had a picture of her family she either managed to take with her or she drew herself or he could be thinking Kustaa was his father's brother. The escape attempts didn't help some of the crews opinions on keeping the kid but considering he was raised as Fire Nation and was in a strange place so its expected that he would try to escape although climbing the mast was something Hakoda really wished he didn't do along with scaling the side of the ship.

Kustaa had mentioned the boy called for his mother while delirious along with begging his father for forgiveness pledging his loyalty to him and pleading no to the man which didn't paint a pretty picture of the man or gain much favor of the fire nation in the crews opinions. "Tell me about your mother." Hakoda suggests sitting up on the mast beside the boy. Glowing gold eyes blinked at him. "I remember trailing robes. She favored long sleeved robes with delicate embroidery. She had long hair I remember her brushing mine when I was little. I would sit in her lap and she would brush my hair talking to me about theater or turtleducks or plants. Different things she liked. I think I would sometimes tell her about my day or what I had done recently I don't remember clearly its... faded almost. Fuzzy. I barely remember what she looked like."

Hakoda frowned the boy was water tribe he had to be with those star eyes of his but why wouldn't his mother tell him about her people, her home. Maybe she couldn't? Maybe the boys father was so controlling he made sure she never spoke of home to their son? Then the boy said something that made him rethink everything he knew about the kid. "Uncle said my hair is alot like hers. Or it was. I don't even remember why I shaved it." The kid frowned obviously struggling to remember rubbing his head with one hand. The head wound had left him confused he didn't rember his name or much of anything recent but he remembered he had been burned for cowardice supposedly or partially for that but what did the fire nation consider to be cowardly? Kustaa suspected the boy's own father burned him based off what they gleaned from fever dreams and night terrors.

“What did she look like?” Hakoda questions softly holding his breath hoping he was wrong with the hunch he had. “Elegant, beautiful, she had long straight black hair that was so soft and amber eyes with flecks of true gold in them she wore long sleeved red robes with elegant embroidery. The sleeves would bellow and she would hide me in them when I was little.” The boy continued to talk about his mother someone he remembered fondly although all the details suggested the hugs, the turtle duck kisses and every else stopped when the boy was small. Something happened to his mother and Hakoda was beginning to suspect it may have something to do with the boys true parentage. But how to suggest it to the kid without breaking the poor things mind? The whole crew already suspected he was spirit touched as the water tribe liked to call those who were different mentally the earth kingdom called them fey and not all of the earth kingdom where kind to them.

“If I promise no one on this ship will hurt you and we won’t turn you over to the Earth Kingdom will you stop with the escape attempts?”Hakoda asks when the boy falls silent picking at the grain of the wood under his hands not meeting Hakoda’s eyes. The kid blinked up at him startled. “Okay.” Getting the kid down the mast was surprisingly easy after that and a few more rules were hashed out before the kid was sent to see Kustaa again and the crew was gathered. “The boy’s mother was fire nation. He remembers her more clearly then anything else.” This drew murmurs from the crew some wanted to toss him over board then since he wasn’t the child of a war bride. “But he’s star eyed he has to be Water Tribe.” Toklo says tilting his head in confusion. “Exactly. We know he seemed to have issues regarding his father and Kustaa suspects he may have been the one to burn the kid. I learned his mother also disappeared or may possibly have been killed when he was young.” This gained more murmurs from the crew.

Panuk pulled in a sharp audible breath. He had figured out what Hakoda was getting at. “Does any one here know where they were about 16 to 17 years ago? If they were around the Earth Kingdom or the colonies anywhere?” Their chief had to ask if none of the men on this ship was the boys father he would have to send messages out to all the others in the fleet see if anyone remembered if maybe had met a pretty woman in the Earth Kingdom or in the colonies and spent a night with her. If the kids mother was Fire Nation and he was star eyed that meant his real father had to be Water Tribe. His mother had to have married or started a new relationship soon after and the boy looked fire nation enough to pass him off as her husband’s but the husband probably suspected what with the star eyes. There was silence followed by an uproar. “You can’t be serious?!” Aake shouted in outrage. “I’m not judging anyone but the boy is water tribe and with his mother gone we most definitely are not giving him back to the Fire Nation so we need to figure out whose he is. We take care of our own.” Hakoda soothed the crews ruffled feathers listening as the men scrambled to remember where they were and what they were doing all those years ago.

Slowly they managed to clear the majority of the crew those who couldn’t remember were left struggling valiantly to justify why they couldn’t possibly be the boys father while their youngest two crew members watched with glee obviously in the clear themselves due to their age. Once Kustaa cleared the boy Hakoda set him to work and had to add no breathing fire to the list of rules. Toklo and Panuk made friends with their newest crew member over laundry and the boy was very shouty about women’s work. And then the issue over the kid not having a name he remembered came up. Names like Siqinq, Kallik, Cupun, Tulok, Yuka and Tulugaq were tossed around. He is pretty sure they settled on Tulok simply because they already have a Tuluk and Toklo on board and that name is almost a combination of the two plus it had a star meaning behind it. The boy just wanted to fit in.

Reds were changed for Toklo’s blues and the boys hair shaved to regrow properly after Kustaa managed to break it to the kid that a real father wouldn’t abuse his son, biological or not. They picked up Bato who sympathized with them for wanting to keep the star eyed child, teach him his real culture, and find his real father but the kid was still a fire bender. A fire bender on a WOODEN SHIP!! The boy, Toluk looked like a kicked polar puppy being denied sleep in the hammock he was used to and his usual snacks when ever he wanted. They still had a lot of work cut out for them when the kid thought he would be killed over a bending accident because he didn’t fully remember he needed to mediate to control his fire. His memories were still patchy at best. So Hakoda ended up with his temporary foster star eyed child sitting in his cabin breathing with a lantern holding a dog.

The kid liked sea prunes proving he was Water Tribe at heart. He was good at using his fire bending for non evil purposes even if he protested it. He proved he shouldn’t be left alone in port either by himself or with his friends. He gained a piercing, two rusted swords, a theater scroll and a cabbage? No one seems to know about the cabbage. He can cook as it’s proven despite how spicy his cooking is and nearly gets kidnapped by prostitutes. Sex workers were not on the list of people Hakoda thought he would have to fight for custody of Tulok with. He nearly gets himself kidnapped by a Earth Kingdom solider they are allied with who seemed sure their boy was then dead prince of the Fire Nation. Never mind that the prince was dead and their boy was star eyed. The solider was surprisingly unfazed by the heat of the kids cooking. He didn't end up kidnapped despite his best efforts.. The kid really needed to stop climbing the mast. “Prince Zuko?!” Hakoda’s kids seemed to also mistake Tulok for the dead prince.

“That’s the Prince of the Fire Nation, dad he chased us all over and tried to capture the avatar numerous times. His sister did capture Aang.” His kids argued trying to convince him that their new foster brother was some evil prince. The kid in question for his part had more headaches then usual and just seemed more confused and angry. He remembered something. A little sister named LaLa. It takes a while but after watching their new brother and listening to the crew, “His name is Zuko, he is the prince of the Fire Nation, his father is Fire Lord Ozai does no one care about that?!” Sokka asks in outrage staring as the kid in question does laundry like its a perfectly normal thing for a prince to do. “His mother may be fire nation but his father sure isn’t.” Panuk comments dodging a wet shirt thrown by their resident fire bender. This earned laughter and calls of “Good for her!!” And “She could do a lot better!” Followed by “At least a water tribesman would treat her right!!”. Sokka groaned in frustration and confusion.

“Why is my nephew wearing blue, convinced Ozai isn’t his biological father and that he is water tribe?” General Iroh the Dragon of the West questions calmly. Tulok seemed to recognize Iroh and even called him Uncle and recognized some of the crew but he still didn’t have complete clear memories although his headaches grew worse until Kustaa told him it didn’t matter if he remembered or not he was water tribe and nothing was going to change that spirit touched or not. “He is star eyed you can’t possibly tell me the fire nation has star eyed kids that’s a water tribe thing only.” Iroh considered it briefly before dismissing it. His nephew looked similar to a young Ozai, so Ozai had to be his father even if he wasn’t much of one and his nephew deserved better then Ozai. But surely Ursa couldn’t have had an affair while married to Ozai it was impossible. Iroh tried to do the math off the top of his head of when Ursa and Ozai married vs when Zuko was born. “Look the obvious answer here is that the boys mom met with a Water Tribe beefcake and had a one night stand that lead to the boy. It’s the only thing that explains why his supposed father hated him so much and why he struggled with fire bending and is star eyed.” Bato explains grinning. “Beefcake?” Hakoda and Iroh question.

Azula finds this all far to amusing. “That just means I’m the rightful heir after all. You can stay here with your little water tribe family and I can be the next Fire Lord after Uncle.” Somehow things get worked out that their star eyed fire bender’s fire nation sister will be staying with them along side her two scary friends and the kids supposed Uncle will become the next Fire Lord once they take down Ozai. The kid is still confused and there are still gaps in his memories but they aren’t giving him back now he is their’s and the fire nation can’t have him. They still call him Tulok since the fire nation does consider the sun to be a star after all. He seems to like it better then Zuko. He still does their laundry still wears beads in his braids in red, blue and one gold. In all that’s happened no one thought to alert the rest of the fleet about what they learned leaving them in for one heck of a surprise when they reach Chameleon Bay where the rest of the men from the fleet scramble to try to remember where they were sixteen-point-nine years ago.

#water tribe zuko #star eyed zuko #zuko Is mistaken as water tribe #glowy eyed zuko #zuko’s eyes glow #gift for Muffinlance #salvage au #inspired by salvage #hakodad #hakoda adopts zuko #atla fanfic #atla zuko #atla hakoda #sokka is not okay with this #put the feral fire bender back where you found him #the akhuklt’s crew is okay with zuko being one of them #like okay if his mom isn’t a war bride then his mom hooked up with a water tribesman #which good for her at least a water tribesman would treat her properly #Iroh protests this #He is 90 percent sure Zuko is actually Ozai’s son #not that that’s is a good thing #he can’t be sure though #atla #Avatar The Last Airbender #Give Zuko happiness #ursa could do better then ozai #hey uh no judgement whatsoever to whichever water tribesman is the kids father but uhh come pick up your lost cub #Bato calls other warriors beefcakes #which watertribesman lost their cub they didn't know they had #everyone struggles to remember who they were with and where they were 16 years and nine months ago

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago

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vignettes of a bond || alpha!bucky barnes x omega!reader

I originally wrote this in two parts for my sleepover but after I realized how long it accidentally became, I've reformatted it, added/changed a few things, and made into a oneshot!

word count: 3.1k

warnings: smut, angst, knotting, violence

June 2nd, 1943, 11:43 p.m., James Barnes’ bedroom

“I wanna do it, before I go,” he whispered against your skin. “But I know it’s wrong. It’s too cruel.”

“No, please,” you whimpered, “I want it. I want your mark.”

Bucky pulled back for a moment and you examined your Alpha’s face carefully, knowing it might be the last time for a long time. “I couldn’t bond to you and then leave you. It wouldn’t be fair… you deserve to find somebody who can stay, and be with you, and protect you.”

“All I want is you,” you whispered. “Please, Alpha… bite me.”

You saw him hesitate for a moment before he leaned in and sucked at your neck, building the anticipation before he finally sunk his teeth into your skin and you cried out, one single tear rolling down your cheek. “Mine,” he growled against your skin as he lapped at the healing wound, “my Omega. Forever.”

“Yours, only yours,” you agreed eagerly.

It wasn’t the first time Bucky had taken you, but that night he really and truly claimed you, left you a desperate begging mess, stretched out over his knot as he filled you over and over.

The next morning, you were still sore between your legs as well as on your new mark, and it took everything in you to be strong as you saw him off at the train station, waving goodbye and praying that your Alpha would return to you soon.

November 9th, 1943, 2:24 p.m., undercover SHIELD facility

“You promised Bucky you’d take care of me,” you reminded him with a little smile, wiping a tear from your cheek.

“I know,” Steve relented, “but we both know I can’t do that. Not in this state. But maybe I can protect you if I do this. Maybe I can protect my country. I owe it to everyone, especially Bucky, to try.”

You nodded. “But I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too. Come see me before I ship out for good, alright?”

“Of course,” you agreed.

December 27th, 1943, 8:32 a.m., your front porch

“You’re lying,” you gasped as you shook your head. “You’re wrong, no, it’s not true.”

“It is,” Steve promised as tears welled in his eyes, “I’m so so sorry, I saw it myself, I had to watch him fall…”

“It’s not true! He’s not dead!”

“I know he loved you so much. He talked about every day, he couldn’t wait to come home to you,” Steve remembered, choking up noticeably. “But he won’t. He’s gone.”

“You don’t understand, I know, okay? I know.”

“You’re in shock, I understand, it’s hard to lose your mate—”

“You’re a beta, you wouldn’t understand,” you dismissed; sure, he looked like an alpha now, but it didn’t make a difference. “Omegas, we know when our Alpha dies, we feel it, it kills us. He’s far away, but he’s still there, I still feel him!”

Steve held you as you sobbed, your body crumpling into his arms. Sometimes you thought maybe he held you too tight on accident because he was still getting used to his new strength; other times you thought he did it on purpose.

February 3rd, 1944, 12:00 p.m., undercover SHIELD facility

“Even when I had nothing, I had Steve,” you recalled shakily, “and now he’s gone too.”

“Is that why you’re volunteering?” Agent Carter asked you. “Because you’d rather sleep for a hundred years than live without your mate and your best friend?”

“I’m volunteering because my mate and my best friend died for SHIELD,” you corrected firmly, “and if I’m not willing to also, then I’m admitting I think they went to waste.”

“Steve told me you didn’t think Bucky was dead,” Peggy remembered.

You winced. “I’m not sure. But I know he’s not coming home again. I came here to give whatever I could to help find him… I was asked to participate in a cryogenics research study. If it helps him, then I’ll do it.”

She was about to get up, apparently satisfied with your final interview, but you stopped her.

“On one condition,” you added. “If James Barnes is found, alive or dead, wake me up to see him.”

She nodded, stepping out of the room and leaving you alone again.

May 8th, 2012, SHIELD headquarters

“Can you hear me?”

You slowly blinked awake, your vision taking a moment to catch up with your mind. You saw tubes coming out of your arms; you saw Steve above you, looking like the day you saw him last.

“Did you find Bucky?” you asked instantly. Why else would they wake you up?

“No,” Steve answered, seemingly a bit disappointed that that was your first and only question.

“Then put me back to sleep,” you demanded.

“It’s been 68 years,” he told you. “You’ve slept for 68 years. It’s time to wake up.”

And you did, more than you ever wanted to, because you realized you couldn’t feel him anymore. Your Alpha was gone. Worse, he probably died while you were asleep; he probably died alone.

One more time, like he had 68 years ago, Steve held you while you sobbed.

August 1st, 2014, 2:11 a.m., Avengers compound, Steve Rogers’ quarters

You ran into Steve’s room barefoot and still in your pajamas, barreling through the door and right into his bed.

“Steve, I feel him!” you rushed.

“What?” he groaned sleepily, looking up at you as he blinked in confusion.

“I feel him again, he’s alive,” you explained. “I know it. He’s weak… he’s hurting… but he’s there.”

“That’s impossible,” Steve shook his head. “It’s been too long, he would’ve died of old age anyways.”

“Don’t you want to believe it? Don’t you want to think he’s out there?”

“Do I want to think he’s alone and I didn’t save him?” Steve hissed. “No, I can’t say that I particularly do!”

“But we still can, Steve, we just have to find h—”

But before you could finish, the feeling left you, and you were just half of something again.

“Oh,” you breathed.

“He’s gone again?” Steve realized.

You nodded, biting your lip as it started to quiver. He sighed and pulled you into a hug. “If I could just see his body, and know it was over,” you whispered, “if I could just bury him, have a funeral…”

“We’ll have one,” Steve decided, “after this mission. We’ll put him to rest. He deserves that, and so do you.”

You nodded into his shoulder. It shattered you into a million pieces but it was still the better option, to try to let him go in whatever small way you could. He would always, always, always be your Alpha, nothing could change that, but a funeral would at least bring some closure.

That would have to wait until after your next mission though… and it was going to be a big one: tracking the elusive Winter Soldier.

August 3rd, 2014, 1:14 p.m., Lower East side

You were a few blocks away, helping civilians escape the firefight, when you felt it.

For one impossibly brief moment, you felt him, stronger than you had in nearly 80 years. He was here.

You instantly got up and ran like you’d never run before, finding the Soldier and Steve locked in a brutal showdown— but his mask was gone now, and you nearly fell to your knees at the sight of him.

“Bucky!” you yelped, but you knew he wasn’t there or you would’ve felt his presence. Your Alpha was somewhere underneath the shell that wore his face, and you needed to find him.

You ran forward just as Steve made a break for it, getting to him just in time to stand between the Soldier and his mission.

“Alpha, please,” you whimpered, clutching at his chest. A metal hand backhanded you to the ground.

“Out of my way, Omega,” he growled, stepping over you, but you grabbed at his ankles even when he tried to kick you away.

“My mark,” you explained hastily, pulling your shirt down some to make sure it was visible. “It’s yours. Do you remember? You gave me this. This is your mark on me.”

He stared down at you, seeming to be contemplating it, and you scrambled back to your feet and faced him.

“I still feel you,” you whispered. “I knew you were alive, I knew you’d come back to me. I could feel you, right here,” you explained as you took his hand and placed it on your chest. “Could you feel me? Did you know I was waiting for you all this time?”

His eyes were watering but he still seemed confused— stunned, more specifically, as you placed your hand on his chest.

“I’ll always be yours, Bucky. I’ll always be your Omega, no matter where you are.”

A stun gun took you down, an array of masked men appeared, and before he could really see you for what you were, he was dragged away and taken to be erased again.

August 3rd, 2014, 9:04 p.m., Avengers compound, medical bay

“I can’t believe we let them get away,” Steve lamented, resting his face in his hands. “I can’t believe they took him again…”

“They’ll be back,” you promised sternly. “They’re going to figure out what I am to him. They’re going to realize I could break his programming. And they’re going to come for me.”

“And when they do?” Steve pressed.

“We’ll be ready. And I’ll get my Alpha back.”

August 3rd, 2014, 9:04 p.m., temporary HYDRA operations facility

"The woman on the bridge... the Omega..." Bucky mumbled. "She knew me... she had my mark."

"No she didn't."

He furrowed his brow. "She showed me..."

Pierce sighed, glancing over to the HYDRA scientist who looked back at him sternly.

"She's too dangerous to be left alive," the man sighed, shrugging in his lab coat. "We can't deprogram a bond like that."

"We'll take care of her," Pierce promised.

Bucky launched from the chair, snapping his restraints like paper. "Touch her and I'll fucking kill you!" he bellowed, tackling his handler to the ground.

Pierce just laughed as another scientist jabbed Bucky with a needle, dosing him with something strong enough to kill any other man but just enough to knock out a super soldier. Pierce stood up and dusted himself off as he watched Bucky go limp and be lifted back into his chair.

"I can see the fight in your eyes, Soldier," he taunted as he leaned into his face. "I know you really would kill me, if you could. The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak, right? But don't worry about your mate, we'll make it quick and painless. Hey, maybe beforehand me and a few of the other Alphas will show her a good time, poor thing's been without her mate for 70 years... I bet she's raring to go."

Bucky's arm twitched as his eyes started to fall shut, a tear falling down his blank and motionless face.

"Wipe him," Pierce instructed to the scientist, turning and walking away as the electric whirr of the machine charging up filled the room.

August 11th, 2014, 3:53 p.m., SHIELD headquarters

Steve was impressed with how accurate and imminent your prediction was; HYDRA was hot on your trail and desperate to eliminate the biggest threat to their Asset. Knowing they were coming made it easier, but it was still a brutal fight.

You and Steve tried to stay together, but they were smart, they used the perfect bait to lure you away.

"Tell me where he is," you demanded from the HYDRA agent as you held a blade to his neck, "then I'll kill you."

"Isn't it supposed to be 'or I'll kill you'?" he frowned.

You shook your head. "Not the way I operate."

Opposite to the reaction you were expecting, he grinned widely. "He's here."

Your heart stopped.

"On the roof. He's here to kill you."

You dropped the knife and ran straight for the stairwell, ascending them like they were nothing and calling out for your Alpha.

You found him there, waiting, gun trained on you. Raising your hands in surrender, you yelled to him again.

"Bucky," you called across the windy roof, eyes nearly blinded by the bright afternoon sun. "Alpha."

"I'm not who you think I am," he yelled back. "I'm not your Alpha."

It hurt to hear it in his voice, but you knew it wasn't him. Cautiously, you stepped closer. "Before you left, you told me you didn't want to mark me and leave me behind," you recalled. "But I wanted it. I wanted to be bonded to you more than I'd ever wanted anything."

He could clearly see you were coming closer, he even tightened his finger over the trigger of his weapon, but he was waiting. You kept walking to him, slowly.

"I've never regretted it," you continued, "not even when I thought you were dead, not even when I had to spent a lifetime-- more than that-- apart from you."

Finally you were face to face, and you stepped closer until his gun was pressed right into your chest.

"You can shoot me now and I still won't regret it," you promised. "I love you."

Shakily, he lowered his weapon. "Omega..." he breathed.

"Your Omega."

He pulled you into him and you sobbed as you felt him come to life in your arms-- the real him, your Alpha, your Bucky. He held you close and breathed against the top of your head and it was like a dream coming true decades after you'd forced yourself to let it go.

But you'd never given up. And now you had found him again.

Agents started to come onto the roof and Bucky spun the two of you around, firing with his right hand and using the left, metal arm as a shield for you.

He carried you and you didn't even know where he was taking you, but it didn't matter. In his arms, you were home.

August 12th, 1:03 a.m., Avengers compound, your quarters

You hadn't stopped coming or crying for at least an hour. Bucky had all but split you open on his knot all night and he didn't show any signs of stopping.

He apparently intended to make up for lost time. And you'd lost a lot of time.

"Just one more, I know you can give me one more," he groaned furiously rubbing your clit as his knot began to swell again.

You could give him anything, as long as he asked for it like that.

You'd lost count of how many times he'd told you to come for him, and how many times you did it immediately.

"I can see how full you are," he whispered as he rubbed your stomach gently. "So much seed in you that your body can't hold it all."

You looked down and yep, you were distinctly bloated from his come alone; it made you a little dizzy to even look at it.

"The idea of you alone during your heats, no one to protect you, it kills me," he explained with a growl. "I won't let you go again. I can't."

"Then don't," you sighed. "Never leave this bed, fill me with everything you have."

"Did anybody ever help you through them? The heats?" he asked. "I wouldn't blame you, they can be so painful... I just need to know so I can make sure you forget about them."

"No, Bucky, never— I never let anyone touch me."

"Steve could've helped you, at least some..."

"He wouldn't have, he loves you too much. And I wouldn't accept anything less than you, ever. You're my Alpha. We're bonded. There's never anyone else."

That didn't seem to satisfy him, his eyes darting away as he swallowed. Your gut sank with the realization he probably wasn't being totally honest about why he asked.

"Your ruts," you gasped. "Were you alone for all of them?"

He shut his lips tighter.

"Bucky, it's okay, just tell me. I was asleep for 70 years, I skipped most of them, but you... you had to live through them all."

"They gave me betas, and omegas," he mumbled, "but I don't... I don't really remember. I know they wanted me to. They threatened to hurt me if I didn't, because they knew I'd go crazy after so many ruts alone, but I can't remember if I really did it. I remember... I remember crying, and begging for you."

"Alpha," you breathed as you felt new tears run over the stains of your old ones. "It's okay. Whatever happened, it's okay now. We're together again. Everything's okay."

You wiped his tear away with your thumb, holding his face tightly, weaving your fingers into his long hair.

"I'll always be your Omega," you promised.

He leaned in closer to you, kissing your cheek before pulling back a little. "It's faded," he whispered as he ran his thumb over the mark on your neck. "The last time I saw it, it was still fresh."

"It's older, sure, but it's stronger than ever, Bucky."

August 14th, 10:12 a.m., Avengers compound, residential area kitchen

Steve's eyes went wide when he came into the kitchen for breakfast and found you there, steeping your tea. "Surprised to see you out of the love nest so soon," he smirked.

"It's been three days, I don't think that counts as soon," you scoffed.

"It does to him," Steve frowned. "He's asleep, isn't he?"

"Yep."

"I know he wouldn't let you out of his sights if he was conscious," Steve chuckled.

At that moment, you heard Bucky call your name and run out into the hall, only a bedsheet covering his groin as he appeared in the doorway. You spun around and smiled when you saw him come running towards you, embracing you with his free arm.

"You should've told me you were leaving, I got scared when I woke up without you," he admitted weakly.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to make you worry!"

He pulled back and clutched your face in both his hands. "I'm waking up next to you every morning for the rest of my life, you understand?"

You nodded dutifully. "Yes, Alpha."

"One hand on the sheet, please, Buck?" Steve winced, looking away.

“Whoops,” Bucky groaned, reaching to cover himself as you laughed softly.

“Let’s go back to bed, baby,” you decided quietly, taking Bucky’s (free) hand in yours and waving goodbye to Steve, who was already making his way as far out of earshot as possible.

#alpha!bucky barnes x omega!reader #alpha!bucky barnes smut

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 3 years ago

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Words: 6,188 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria, pre-Negan + flashbacks in other eras Warnings: language, fear and anxiety, mention of fear of heights Summary: Y/N and Daryl head out on the run for the requested medical supplies. Things are tense, but possibly about to get worse... This part is written in Daryl's POV!

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“I ain’t waitin’. I got a whiff of him and I gotta go before it disappears.”

“Daryl, are you sure about this?” Carol pressed him, creases from worry between her eyebrows. “Are you sure you’ve really thought this through?”

“What is there to think through? If he finds her again, he’ll kill her. And I ain’t waitin’ around for that to happen.” The archer was a blur of activity, gathering his gear and shoving it into his pack.

“I think you need to talk to her about this,” Carol insisted, relinquishing her hold on his poncho somewhat unwillingly as Daryl pulled it from her hands.

He shook his head. “Nah. Ya know she’ll want to be there and I can’t risk that…” he trailed off. “I can’t risk—can’t risk that.”

A thick silence stretched for a moment and Carol wrung her hands. “Well, what are you going to tell her?”

He paused, his hands on the clasp of his pack. “I ain’t tellin’ her anythin’. I’ll leave before its light tomorrow. By the time everyone is up, I’ll be gone.”

“What am I supposed to tell her then? When she inevitably asks?” Carol pressed him. “You want me to lie to her too?”

“I ain’t lyin’,” Daryl snapped. “‘M just not—not tellin’ her everythin’. ‘M ending this so she can move on.”

Carol’s jaw tensed. “It feels like a lie.”

“Just tell her I went north. To see what I could see. Lookin’ for supplies,” he drawled, setting his pack and crossbow on the ground beside his bed. “I don’t know.”

Carol sighed heavily and shook her head as he straightened up. “I don’t think this is—”

“Look, tell her whatever ya want. Just wait until ‘m gone. This is happenin’. It’ll be done. S’gonna be over with. For good.”

She shook her head and gave him a long look before crossing his cell and gently clasping his shoulder. “Be careful. I mean it,” she said, surrendering to the fact that there would be no changing his mind. He nodded, pulling his bottom lip in between his teeth for a moment.

“I will.”

Carol gave him one last look full of anxiety and left him.

* * *

I hardly slept. Maybe caught 20 minutes here and 15 minutes there. Anxiety about the run—that’s all it was. At least, that’s what I kept tellin’ myself. Wanderin’ into a hospital was about the dumbest shit we could do. They always promised to be loaded with unexpected bullshit and floods of undead assholes. But lyin’ flat on my back in the dark, I knew deep down it had a helluva lot more to do with her than it had to do with the run. I was tryin’ to remember the last time I’d spent more than ten minutes alone with her and it left me with a feelin’ like somebody had dropped a damn lead weight onto my chest. I turned over in bed in an attempt to throw it off, but it still sat there on my lungs. I knew exactly when we’d last been alone for longer than a few minutes. Of course I fuckin’ knew. It was burned into my goddamn memory.

But it wasn’t doin’ me a lick of good to think on it so I pushed it away and waited for the clock beside me to read 5:15 before I climbed out of bed. My gear was all waitin’ ready, except for pickin’ up a gun on the way out. I half-expected to run into her in the armory, but it was dark and empty when I grabbed a handgun and some ammo. It felt like a lonely walk to Aaron’s, up the empty street, dew heavy on the grass, and my bootsteps echoing loudly off the dark rows’a houses. I never feel right in here… with the square little lawns and lights on by the front doors. It just felt fake, like somebody had built paper houses and was plannin’ to light ‘em up to burn any minute. I couldn’t feel settled. I just felt… lost. Outta place. Like I didn’t belong.

I’d gotten rid of that feelin’ once… My mind drifted back to her like it always did. It was like I didn’t have no damn control over my own mind. She’d been the one who’d made me feel like I belonged. But now? Fuck. I’m doin’ it again. Focus, dumbass.

She wasn’t waitin’ by my bike either, so I rode up to the gate. As the lookout platform came into view, I caught sight of her climbing down, followed by Gabriel. Her pack was slung on her back, a shotgun hanging at her side and her favorite pistol in a holster on her thigh. I found myself chewing the inside of my cheek. Nerves. Anxiety. This was gonna be a long fuckin’ day.

“I’ve got the gate,” Gabriel said, heading for the latch. She wandered over and I felt a jolt when she met my eyes. I nudged my nose up in a nod, but she just looked back at me with that same stony expression. Unreadable. It always seemed like I never saw her smile anymore. Maybe she did, just not around me. I got that blank look or a glare that I probably deserved…

“Were ya on watch?” I asked, curious why she wouldn’ta gotten rid of her shift in favor of sleep, knowing we’d be heading out on a run early.

“No,” she said simply. No extra info. Typical. Why waste more on me when one word would do? She didn’t owe me nothin’. And she knew it. I swallowed my other questions and leaned forward on my bike so she could climb on. I felt her settle in behind me and glanced over my shoulder at her. She caught my eyes for a brief moment before looking away, down toward the ground. That was typical too. It was like she just couldn’t look at me. Felt like somebody twisted a blade in my chest every time she dodged me like that. And yet I couldn’t get enough of her, even if she was purposely a giant pain in the ass most of the damn time… I still felt like she was a mirage in a desert. A mouthful of cool water in a drought. Food for a starvin’ man.

Gabriel was waiting with the gate open, so I revved the bike to life again. Her arms wrapped around my waist to hold on and for a second I thought I felt her cheek press against the back of my shoulder, but I knew I must have imagined it. My heart was racing as we pulled out. I was more anxious than I had been all night. The thoughts rushing through my head moved so fast I couldn’t even focus on any of them.

Gabriel yelled at us to be safe as we moved through, kickin’ dust up that left a glowing red cloud behind from the reflection of the taillights. The ride to the city was smooth. We made good time, luckily only passing lone walkers or small herds that were easy to avoid. Around the curves, for a brief moment, she’d hold tighter to me and lean into the turns like I’d taught her in what felt like another fuckin’ lifetime. Each corner I could feel every individual fingertip pressing into my waist or stomach. It was always followed by a sudden wash of heat like somebody had shoved me in a shower with the temperature all the way up. I couldn’t control it. Didn’t matter how hard I tried to ignore the feelin’ of being so damn close against each other…

I slowed down as we neared the hospital. Cars sat rusting in gridlocked traffic, tires long gone, frozen in time—same place they were when everythin’ shut the fuck down. I slowed my bike to roll over some debris and hit a chunk of concrete a little harder than I meant to. Her arms tightened around me reflexively at the jolt before loosening again the next second. My heart jolted at the same time. That feeling… of her clinging onto me for safety—but fuck. Let’s not make it out to be more than it is, dumbass. I turned toward my left shoulder. “Sorry,” I murmured. She didn’t say anything back, just shifted in her place behind me, puttin’ an inch more space back between us. The hospital came into view ahead, tall over everything else on the block.

She tapped my arm and I turned so I could hear her over the engine. “We should park. Sound of the bike,” she said. I knew what she was thinkin’. Any walkers or people anywhere around would hear us. I turned down a side street and parked in a loading dock bay. She climbed off about as damn fast as she could. Kicking the kickstand out and swinging my leg over, she was already walking back toward the corner of the building to look down the street.

“Hold up,” I called after her. I still had to get my gear off the back. She either didn’t hear me or didn’t give a shit and I found myself gritting my teeth. But when I rushed around the corner, I nearly collided with her. She did wait. She was leaned up against the brick, her shotgun in her hands, staring ahead at the looming building.

She straightened up as I stopped beside her and we started windin’ our way down the last couple blocks, keepin’ to the shadows of the buildings, stayin’ in cover as best we could. Even so, I couldn’t help glancin’ up at the endless windows, too many high points. All it would take is one asshole with a rifle and a scope... My hands started to sweat as I gripped my crossbow. I glanced at her, but she was as stony-faced as ever. “C’mon,” I said, quickening my stride. “I wanna get the hell off this street.”

I heard her let out a small scoff behind me. “Yeah, you’re the only one worried about being out here,” she murmured. My teeth clenched again but I did my best to ignore it. There was no point gettin’ riled up this early in the day. We still had a lot of fuckin’ work to do. We reached a set of double doors on the side of the hospital, but one glance inside showed they were well barricaded. I stood there rubbing a hand over the stubble on my face. “S’try the south door,” I drawled. To my surprise, she didn’t argue. But that side was a fuckin’ bust too. “Shit,” I spat out. There was a tall cabinet blocking the entrance.

“Good call,” she said sarcastically.

I shot her a glare. And this time when I bit my cheek, I tasted blood. “Ya got a better fuckin’ idea? Huh?” I challenged her.

She rolled her eyes, studying the door for a moment. There was a large glass pane above it that was broken out and I saw her eyes lock in on it. “Boost me up there,” she said, inclining her chin to indicate the window.

Did she want to go in alone? Well, that sure as shit wasn’t fuckin’ happenin’. “Like hell,” I growled back. She rolled her eyes again.

“Just boost me through and I’ll get the door open. I’ll let you in.”

Now it was my turn to scoff. “Ya gonna move that cabinet? By yerself?” I asked skeptically. The muscle in her jaw tensed.

“I don’t have to move it far. Just enough to let you squeeze in. And you can help from the outside.”

I pulled my bottom lip in between my teeth. I didn’t like the idea. I paced a tight circle, thinkin’, as she shifted impatiently beside me. “What if ya get in there and there are walkers? Huh? We can’t see shit down the hall.”

“I’ll be quiet. Come on. We haven’t got all fucking day and we’re sitting ducks out here. Unless you’ve come up with something better—”

I didn’t like it, but she was right. Shit. “Fine,” I interrupted. She leaned her shotgun up against the wall as I set my back against the door, fingers locked together and hands low at my bent knee. “C’mon. Gimme yer foot.”

She seemed to hesitate and I wondered if she was having second thoughts, but the next moment she stepped close in front of me and her hands came to my shoulders. “Ready?” I asked. Her face was maybe six inches from mine, her hands light. I started to feel warm again, a flush of heat across the back of my neck that started spillin’ into my chest. I could see every fleck of color in her eyes, the upturned curve of her eyelashes, that little scar on her chin... Fuck. Focus.

“Ready.” She planted her boot in my hands and I boosted her up so she could grab the window edge. The tinkling of glass dropping in was all I could hear for a moment, and then her weight disappeared from my hands. Spinning around, I watched her pull herself through onto the top of the cabinet. She stayed perched there for a moment, glancin’ behind her, scoutin’ the hallway, before she dropped to her feet lightly. She made it look easy. Graceful.

I couldn’t stand still, constantly shifting my weight. I watched her face tighten as she wedged her shoulder into the cabinet, using all her weight, and it started to move at an angle away from the door. I pushed in with my shoulder from the outside and we finally had enough space for me to slip through. I passed her shotgun through first before turnin’ sideways and slidin’ in. It was dark and completely silent except for the sound of our own breathin’. It felt stuffy inside, and I could vaguely smell somethin’ sharp like animal piss and a sickeningly sweet smell. Death. Decay. I paused to draw the string on my crossbow back, cocking it ready to fire, a bolt nestled in the flight groove.

She pulled her flashlight out from the side pocket of her pack and clicked it on, shining it partially up the hallway ahead. “Jesus…” Her boots crunched over broken glass. She adjusted the shoulder strap of her shotgun, her eyes fixed down the hall, following the moving beam of her light. “This place is a fucking wreck,” she whispered. In her distraction, her tone lacked the usual hostility or sarcasm.

“Somethin’ went down since we were last here,” I agreed. There was a lot more debris and furniture toppled over and strewn about. A lot of obstacles to a clean getaway if we had to make one. “Let’s just get this done and get the hell out.”

“What a unique idea…” she remarked over her shoulder. There it was. Damn sarcasm was back.

I couldn’t help rolling my eyes and movin’ past her so I was in the lead. I knew it would annoy her, but I secretly wanted to be the one in the line of fire if somethin’ was crooked. I headed for the stairwell, pullin’ my own flashlight out and shinin’ it inside before I tried the door. It looked clear. “Upper floors are more likely to have shit left. Let’s go.”

We moved in silence. I could feel her ghosting behind me the whole way, almost mimicking my movements. This was the first time the two of us had been alone on a run since… since I dun even know when. But despite it being so goddamn long, we weren’t out of step. Once we started movin’ it was like no damn time had passed. We fell right back into our old rhythm. I knew her and she knew me. We worked well together when she put aside her need to argue with everythin’ I said. It still felt like we each knew what the other was thinkin’. Not that I expected this run would magically make working together bearable again for good, or solve anything, but at least we could if we had to. I also now was realizin’ this whole thing was probably orchestrated by Rick. Did Denise really need the supplies? Sure. But did it have to be Y/N and I gettin’ ‘em? Alone? Fuck no. I dunno exactly what he was hopin’ for but I’m pretty sure he’ll be disappointed…

Moving steadily upwards, we had most of the supplies on the list, plus plenty of extra finds, but I was growing more and more uneasy as we went on. We hadn’t run into a single fucking walker yet, and to me that meant they were probably herded up in a massive hoard somewhere. It felt like a matter of time before we found them or they found us. I could sense Y/N’s tension risin’ again too. She was more fidgety, more careful about each step she took. I found myself frequently sweeping my eyes back behind us to make sure nothin’ was lurking just outta the flashlight beams. There were the usual signs of walkers nearby; smears of blood on the floor and walls, that fuckin’ smell ya could never get outta yer nose, even chunks of flesh from the rottin’ fuckers. But we still hadn’t seen one, and I was fuckin’ worried.

“Almost got everything,” Y/N whispered to me, shoving a couple more bottles into her pack. “We just need to find the CPAP machine,” she murmured, staring down at the list. “I don’t have a fucking clue what the hell that looks like.” She glanced over at me, one of her eyebrows quirked in a question and I realized she was waitin’ for some kinda response.

“What? Yer lookin’ at me? I ain’t got a goddamn clue what the hell that even is,” I said gruffly. Shit. I saw it. Just for a second, but one corner of her lips twitched up in a smile and I swear there was a spark in her eyes—like the ones I used to see in her all the time. My heart jumped and I tried my best to ignore it. She seemed to turn away, hidin’ her face right as I was puzzlin’ over it.

“Right… well, let’s try down the hall. There’s probably another supply closet at the other end,” she said, nudging her head toward the darkness ahead.

We made our way cautiously. I pushed into the lead again and was surprised when she didn’t argue. I tried every door handle but most of ‘em just led to empty or trashed patient rooms. I caught her frozen in the doorway of one that had a massive bloodstain on the floor and spatter partially up the walls. Her eyes were wide and vacant, and I wondered what she was reliving. “Hey,” I said, just over her shoulder. She seemed to pull out of it abruptly and she turned away, moving on like nothin’ had happened. I let her go ahead, mainly so I could keep an eye on her for a minute and make sure she still had her head in the game, but I didn’t need to worry. Not about that anyway. She’d always been tough. She wasn’t shaken by shit easily. I knew that. And yet I still had this drive to want to protect her, even though she didn’t need it from me. And she definitely didn’t want it from me.

“Here,” she said suddenly, slinging her gun back on her shoulder and more fully opening the door to a small supply closet. There was hardly enough room for her to stand inside, so I posted up just behind her and strained my eyes and ears for anythin’. “It’s all electronic stuff,” she whispered, entirely focused at the task at hand. Her hands floated from one device to the next, illuminated by her flashlight. She was looking for some label or model number or somethin’ to tell her what they were. She bent down and grabbed some scattered papers from among the boxes on the floor. Swearing under her breath she held one up to the flashlight. “Of course the cover and all the useful shit in the front is torn off,” she muttered. She was bending down to grab another handful when there was some sudden, deep noise on the floor above us.

My heart seemed to stall out for a moment and she straightened up and froze, her eyes lifted toward the ceiling, lips partially parted. The sound seemed to reverberate through the building. I could feel it beneath my feet. It resonated through the walls. After a moment, I was looking at her and she glanced over and met my eyes, her eyebrows a little furrowed with worry.

“What the fuck was that?” she asked in a harsh whisper. I only shook my head. She gulped and refocused, shakin’ it off, focusing back on the papers. She was flipping page after page, scanning them as fast as she could.

I started to hear some more noises above us and then eventually spilling toward the other end of the hall. My grip on my crossbow tightened. “We need to move,” I said, keeping my voice low.

She was still intensely focused on the manual in her hands. “Just gimme a minute…” she said vaguely.

I shifted, turning more toward the far end of the hallway, straining my hearing. There was more clattering above us. “We might not have another damn minute.”

“Just—hold on—”

Fuck. I stood frozen for a moment as a herd of walkers started to spill out from the stairwell at the other end of the hallway and start toward us. “We ain’t got a minute, Y/N!” I urged in a harsh whisper. She didn’t seem to hear me.

There were more walkers than I could count. They hadn’t spotted us yet but I had to move fast, so I did the only damn thing I could think of and pushed her forward into the closet, pressing in after her and shutting the door as quietly as I could. I instinctively clicked my flashlight off and hurried to grab hers and do the same, plunging the two of us into darkness in that small space.

“Daryl, what the hell?!” she snapped at me. She’d been so focused she was completely oblivious to the mass of dead wandering our way. The goddamn closet was so small I had no choice but to be pressed into her… My heart started to pound and I think it had more to do with her against me than the undead assholes outside. I was sure she’d be able to feel it and prayed she’d just think it was adrenaline or somethin’. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

I shoved my hand over her mouth, all my patience gone. Did she really think I’d shoved her in a closet for the hell of it? “For once in yer goddamn life just shut up!” I growled in a low voice. She seemed to tense against me but in the quiet the sounds of the walkers outside the door were now easily heard above our ragged breathin’ and they were growing louder every second. I still had one hand over her mouth and the other clenching my crossbow at my side. She shifted against me and pulled my hand away. I could hear and feel her breathin’ pick up pace. I planted my palm on the wall behind her, next to her head, very aware of the growin’ heat pooling between the two of us where we were pressed together. The air felt suffocatin’. I started to worry the walkers outside the door would be able to hear my breathin’ I was so nervous. I wanted to shift, move away from her like I’m sure she wanted… I wanted to change positions and get my bow up, but it was impossible.

She didn’t seem to know where to put her arms within the tight, dark space. I couldn’t blame her. I was leaned in against her, sorta over her even. I felt her hand accidentally brush my arm and my body jolted a little at the contact, like some reflex I didn’t know I had. My teeth ground together. After that she seemed to settle away from me, into the wall behind her.

We had to just stay there, fuckin’ frozen, hardly room to breathe while the hoard passed by. Every once and a while, a body would thump hard against the door and I’d feel her flinch. I could feel sweat dripping down my neck and beading up on my face, my hair sticking to it. We were so close I could feel her breath against my skin when she faced toward me. I felt the rhythm of her breathin’. And I couldn’t ignore the fact that in that tiny ass closet, the only thing I could smell was the faint scent of her shampoo. I tried hard not to notice, but I’d be lyin’ if I said I didn’t try to put some name to the smell. Lavender? Not quite. Maybe more like rose? I dunno. And despite the possible death lurking just outside, I found it hard to focus on anythin' other than the feeling of her against me.

It felt like it took hours for the hoard to pass, but it was probably only ten minutes. But after the sounds drifted away we were still left with a big fuckin’ problem. They had to go somewhere, and my best guess was that they were travelin’ down.

It was so dark in there I couldn’t even tell if my fuckin’ eyes were open or closed, and it seemed to be makin’ it hard to think… Or maybe the angle of her one hip pressed into me was—fuck. Get it together, man… I fumbled for and clicked on my flashlight, findin' the two of us both wincin' at the sudden glare, noses almost touchin'. She was lookin’ up at me, her lips softly parted, her expression only full of concern for once, that little worry line she always gets near her eyebrow.

We both stayed like for a second. I guess just struck by actually seein’ how close we were in the sudden light, until finally she tore her eyes away and turned her head.

I tried to clear my throat, worried my voice was gonna come out soundin' strained or somethin’. “Uhh… sounded like they were goin’—”

“—down. Yeah,” she finished.

My eyes traced the angle of her jawline as she kept her face turned away from me. I heard the paper manual crinkle in her hand and groped for the doorknob behind me. “Yeah,” I agreed quietly. “So, we got a problem about gettin’ out.” My hand finally landed on the doorknob and I turned it and slowly opened the door on the hall, checking both directions carefully but also feelin’ like if I didn’t put some damn space between the two of us again I was about to explode. It looked clear and I stepped out. Glancin’ back, she still seemed frozen, up against the wall, her face turned away toward her shoulder so I couldn’t really get a read on her. “Hey. What is it?” I prompted her.

“Hmm?” She seemed to snap back to herself. “N—nothing…” She went back to searching the manual in her hand, like nothin’ had fuckin’ happened. Just one goddamn time I’d like to know what the fuck is goin’ on inside her head… But I ain’t got no right to that. She’s made that pretty fuckin’ clear.

It wasn’t the right manual or the right machine. But she went through two more until she found it. “Got it,” she announced, waving the paper at me before shoving it into her already full duffel bag. She seized a small machine from the shelf and started trying to rearrange items to make it fit in her pack.

“I got room,” I said, still nervously checkin’ over my shoulder. I thought I could hear the hoard moving below us, maybe two floors down.

“It’s fine. I can make it fit,” she said, jostling more stuff in her bag.

I rolled my eyes and grabbed the damn thing from her, slinging my crossbow strap over my shoulder. “Ya’d really rather split yer pack at the seams than take any fuckin’ help from me,” I murmured. I didn’t wait for an answer. I didn’t need one…

She stepped out of the closet and I caught her wiping her forearm across her forehead. It left a smear of dirt near her hairline. I had to pull myself back to the present. “So, how are we getting out of here?” she asked, adjusting her pack and the duffel bag strap on her shoulder.

I glanced at her, knowing she wasn’t gonna like my idea.

She rolled her eyes. “Well, you’ve obviously got something. Just get on with it.”

“Fire escape,” I said.

I watched the muscle in her jaw twitch as he jaw clenched. “Fuckin’ great…”

“Unless ya got somethin’ else—”

“You know I don’t,” she snapped back at me. She wiped a hand across her forehead again, swiping away fresh drops of sweat. “It’s—” She cut herself off. “Let’s just go,” she sighed, defeated.

I looked at her for a second more, trying to gauge just how freaked out she was, but it didn’t seem to matter. We didn’t have any other options.

“Let’s go,” she snapped again. “Before I change my mind about being able to handle this.”

“It ain’t—”

She squeezed her eyes shut and I watched her body tense. “I swear to god, Dixon, if you say ‘It ain’t that bad’ or ‘It ain’t that high’ right now, I will lose my shit and attract every fucking walker in this goddamn building. I don’t even give a fuck.” Her jaw muscle twitched.

I couldn’t help letting out a sigh that was more of a growl than anything but then I turned and headed for the window a couple doors down that I’d noticed was busted out. Leaning through, I scanned the outside of the building for a fire escape. Nothing on that side.

“It’s probably around the other side. Let’s try the end of the hall,” she suggested. Her boots stayed rooted to the floor and I glanced at her again. She caught my eyes and must have read the concern on my face.

“I’m fine. You’re the last person I need worrying about me,” she growled.

Fuck. She could be infuriating… I found my hand clenching and unclenching a few times before I followed her back out of the room.

She was right. There was a fire escape down that side. I grabbed a piece of metal off the floor and straightened up. “Ya ready?” I asked one more time. “They might hear this glass break so we gotta fuckin’ move.” I thought her hands were a bit shaky.

“Just do it,” she said. And this time, I could hear the quiver in her voice.

I smashed the window and knocked out the glass before pullin' myself through. The metal grates rattled under my boots and she looked suddenly sick as she approached the window sill. I hesitated a second before reaching a hand out to help her through.

“I’m fine,” she said. She didn’t look fine, but she gripped the ledge and climbed out. “Oh, fuck. Fuck…” she muttered as her feet landed on the platform. She was keeping her eyes fixed straight out. Even just the metal grates at th prison used to freak her out, and that was one floor.

I wanted to comfort her but… I wasn’t dumb enough to think it’d help or that she wanted me to, so instead I just started down the stairs at a good pace. She followed stiffly behind me, gripping onto the railing with white knuckles and falling behind.

Every once and a while I’d glance back and she looked like she was about to be sick, but she was still following. We hit a snag as we reached the third-floor platform. A large part of it had rusted and fallen away, leaving a gaping hole we would have to edge around to reach the next set of stairs.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” I heard her behind me and when I looked back her eyes were wide and round and she was clutching onto the railing like it was a lifeline.

“S’fine. I’ll cross first. Just keep over—”

“Oh, really, Daryl? I should keep over to the side? You mean I should stay away from the huge fucking hole in the goddamn floor?” It kept drawing her eyes and I’d see her rip them back up and away, reeling.

I knew that was mostly coming from the fact that she was fuckin’ terrified, but every harsh word from her still stung. “Fine. Clearly, yer good,” I spat back. “Ya don’t need me and ya don’t give a shit and yer fine. I fuckin’ got it.” So much for trying to calm her down. I edged past the hole in the metal grating and went down the next set of stairs. Finally, I just had to push down the ladder, climb down, and we’d be on solid ground again. But when I looked back up, she was still frozen where she had been, on the far side of the platform. I watched her for another minute, waiting to see if she’d move. I knew she wasn’t gonna ask for help, not from me, but she obviously needed it and tough shit, I’m the only damn person here. I rubbed a hand across the back of my neck, anxious to even try again, and climbed back up. I edged past the rusted-out hole and stopped next to her. “Just gimme yer hand.” She didn’t loosen her grip on the railing, and her eyes landed on my face. “S’fine. Just for two seconds, lemme fuckin’ help ya.”

Her chest was heaving with fearful breaths and I guess the idea of tryin’ to cross along that edge alone was worse than puttin’ her hand in mine. Part of me still thought she’d take the heights over me, but she didn’t… She pried her hand off the railing and placed it into mine. I—I can’t say my heart didn’t jump when my fingers closed around it. The motorcycle. The fuckin’ closet. Now this. We’d hardly been within six feet of each other for years and now all this in one day… I felt dizzy. It ain’t like Rick could have predicted these things would happen. He sure as shit couldn’t command a hoard to force us into each other in a tiny closet… but he must have been hopin’ for somethin’ by sendin’ us out here. Was it gonna work on her? I fuckin’ doubt it.

As we stepped along the edge of the edge of the platform, she held her breath. She always seemed like nothing in this fucked up world scared her anymore, nothing phased her. Half the time it almost seemed like she didn’t give a shit if she died. But this? Heights? This still scared her on some level she couldn't reason away.

But we made it across just fine. She was gripping onto me so tightly I thought she might have bruised the bones in my damn hand. And as we climbed down the next set of stairs, long past the danger, she was still holding onto me. But just as quickly as I realized it, she slipped her hand out and stiffened next to me again, fixing her eyes away toward the railing, which she grabbed onto again desperately.

We made it down the ladder, dropping onto the concrete and making a run back to my bike, slippin' from cover to cover, packs heavy and weighing us down. I was thinking how batshit crazy it was that we’d just done a hospital run and hadn’t had to kill a single walker AND managed to get all the damn supplies... when we rounded the last corner and a string of curses left her mouth.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. What the fuck?!” She knelt down next to my bike and as I looked, my stomach dropped.

“Son of a fuckin' bitch.” Both tires on my motorcycle were slashed. Ruined. Fuck.

We were stranded in the city without a runnin’ vehicle and somebody knew we were here.

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl x y/n #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles

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sortasirius · 4 years ago

Text

Dean Winchester be like:

I hate myself because it’s what my father taught me to do. I hate myself because it’s a defense mechanism. I use sarcasm to cover up the fact that I believe I am worthless. I raised my brother into a good man, that’s the only good I’ve ever done. I’ve saved some people, they don’t say thank you, but that’s okay. I wish I could have been the man my father wanted me to be. I break everything I touch. All the people I love I end up killing or leaving me. I am broken. I don’t do romantic love, it’s asking for me to get my heart broken, more broken than it already is. I sold my soul to a demon so I could save my brother, because he’s the best thing I ever did, the only good thing. I’m afraid to go to Hell, but I pretend I’m not, because what’s the alternative?

Hell proved that I was the person I always knew I was, a bad person, willing to torture to get out of pain. I met an angel, he’s not like I thought. He’s a soldier, like me, he’s taking orders from a father he can’t see. He starts out as an ally, but he’s different than the others, they say he likes me. He’s awkward, he stands too close to me sometimes. I started the Apocalypse because I wasn’t strong enough. My brother is going down the wrong path, and I don’t know how to stop it. The angels tell me Lucifer has to rise, but the one that pulled me out of Hell disobeys to help me stop it.�� I think I should consider him a friend. Lucifer rises anyway.

The angel is on the run from Heaven, he’s a good guy, I like him a lot, more than I think I should. I don’t know what to do, if I say yes to Michael, we can save some people. Maybe I’ll get to know peace, maybe my father will be proud of me then. The angel and my brother are angry at me, but I’ve always been a coward, they just don’t know it. But they know me best, I can’t say yes to Michael if it means disappointing them.

My brother goes to the cage with Lucifer and Michael, the angel disappears, and I’m left to pick up the pieces, living a life I feel like I stole from somebody else. I always sleep with a gun and holy water under the bed, even though I know every entrance is secure. My brother comes back, but he’s different now, he’s not the same, I should have looked for him. I feel guilty. We found out his soul is gone, his soul, his soul. The angel is back, but he’s no real help. I kill myself to speak to Death, who brings back his soul in exchange for me playing Death, where I learn a few hard lessons.

I find out the angel has been working with our enemies. Why does it feel like my heart is broken when he won’t meet my eyes? I leave him to the demons, but not before one last look. I’m not sure why. The idiot, he ends up dying trying to get souls from Purgatory, desperate to win his war in Heaven. Why does everyone leave me? The Leviathan are out there, a new threat. At least I know how to kill, so I won’t have to think about the muddy trenchcoat in the trunk of my car. I lose the closest thing I have to a father with a bullet to the brain. I feel like I’m spinning out of control. My brother loses his mind. The angel comes back, he doesn’t recognize me, that hurts. When he does remember me, I tell him we need him, but I really mean that I do.

I get sent to Purgatory, I meet a vampire turned ally turned new best friend, but I won’t leave without the angel, I can’t leave without the angel. We find him, he was running from me, why does everyone run from me? We make it out of Purgatory, the angel gets left behind. It turns out my brother didn’t look for me. Why am I so dispensable? The vampire is the only one I can trust now. I dream about the angel, about the way I couldn’t save him. I feel like I can’t save anyone these days. I see the angel in the air around me, am I going crazy? But then he shows up behind me, why do I care so much about him? I don’t even care where he came from, as long as he’s here. My brother takes on trials, they start to hurt him. We find a place to call home. I’ve never had my own bedroom before. The angel is distant, I wish I could reach him. He doesn’t answer my prayers. He and I find the angel tablet, he hits me. I tell him I need him, never able to tell him that I think I might love him too. He snaps out of it then walks out of my life again. I wish I was lovable. I almost lose my brother to the trials, he has to know I can’t lose him, he’s all I’ve got. The angels fall, I wonder about my angel, if he’s alright.

My brother is dying, and I make a deal with an angel to save him. My angel says he’s a good guy, and I’m too desperate to vet him properly. I watch my angel, now a human, die in front of me, the angel in my brother saves him, it’s one of the only times I’ve ever put someone else over my brother. I feel guilty about that. I have to kick my angel out, it tears me in half to do it, but I have to protect my brother. I watch the angel from a gas station window, I try to find the courage to go see him. I use humor to hide how much I miss him. My brother finds out about the angel, which cost the life of a kid I was supposed to protect, he’s so angry at me. Well, I deserve it this time. I take the Mark of Cain to defeat Abaddon, it can’t be all that bad. I start to lose my grip on myself. My angel gives up an army for me, and it’s the closest I feel to being me in months. My brother and my angel try to stop it, but it’s too late. I die in my brother’s arms.

I wake up with black eyes. I don’t care about anyone, anything. There’s a tiny part of me that’s screaming to wake up, but I drown him out easily enough. My brother finds me, says he wants to cure me. I don’t want it, I don’t want to be me, not feeling is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. They do cure me though, my brother and my angel, and waking up from the blackness is like surfacing from deep water. For a while, I feel loved. But after what I did, I don’t feel like I deserve it. I’m still not me, and when my friend, who I loved like a sister is taken, I go off the deep end again. It’s too easy, but violence is all I know. The angel tries to stop me. I have him where I want him, a blade to the heart and this is all over. But I still can’t kill him, I still can’t kill the angel. Death tells me I have to kill my brother. I almost do it. But killing Death releases me, and I’m me again. Sometimes I still wish I wasn’t.

I have this connection to this Darkness. It scares the hell out of me. I wish I understood it, I wish I could stop it. Am I pulled towards the Darkness because I, myself, am darkness? Is it because I am, because I’ve always been bad? I lose the angel to Lucifer himself, how did I not notice until it was too late? Why would he leave me like this? Will I ever get him back? My head is foggy around the Darkness, but not when it comes to him. I just wish I could get through to him. Lucifer taunts me, my heart rips in half. We get the angel back, but nothing good can last in this life, can it? God himself returns, I have to sacrifice myself to stop the Darkness. I’ll do it, because of course I will, if I have an opportunity to do some good, I’ll take it. The Darkness doesn’t kill me. She thanks me.

My mother is alive. It’s everything I’ve always wanted. I have to learn fast that she’s not what I thought. That’s hard. Me and my brother end up in prison for trying to kill Lucifer, and we find out this girl is going to have his kid. How will we kill someone innocent? I can’t think about that, I’m a killer, I’ll kill if i have to. The angel kills a reaper to save me, but what will happen to him? We start looking for this kid, but do we even want to find it? The angel nearly dies for me, he tells me, my family he loves us. I wish I could tell him the same, but the words won’t work right in my brain, so I do what I always do, I look away. The angel finds the girl, but the kid inside her gets to him, and he runs away from me. Why does everyone run from me? We find them just in time to find a rift to another world, and my brother has to drag me away from the angel, who is going to sacrifice himself to kill Lucifer. He comes back, but before I can say the words I’ve been holding onto for so long, he dies in front of me, only this time, it’s real. My mom is taken from me too, and I’m left by the angel’s side, staring up at the sky, wondering why, why me?

I bury the angel, my brother insists we can’t kill the kid, even though it’s his fault my mom is gone and the angel is... I beg God to bring him back, please, bring him back. You owe me this, please bring him back. He doesn’t listen. I’m alone. We burn the angel, and I try to learn to live with regret and grief and crippling pain all at once. I hate the kid, this is his fault. I kill myself again to save some souls, but also because I want to die this time. I can’t take it anymore. Death tells me I have work to do, but how much more work can there be? How much more can I take? It’s like the Universe reads my mind, because my angel comes back, and it’s like the last few weeks haven’t happened. I still can’t say the words, but maybe this time I’ll get there. Maybe this time. We go to the other world, we save some people, I find my mom. I let another Michael from the other world possess me to defeat Lucifer, but then I can’t expel him. Before he shuts me in my memories, I am desperately afraid.

My brother and the angel find me in my own head, the snap me out of it. I should have known this bar was too good for me, I knew I didn’t deserve it. I shut Michael in there, but I know I won’t last long. I think I’m too weak to hold him, so I build a box designed to hold me forever. I dream about it, claw the sides of the wall until my nails are bloody, but if it’s my eternity or Michael’s rule? I’ll take the ocean every time. The angel will always try to save me, I still can’t say the words. The kid, my kid, he destroys Michael, but something is wrong, and I don;t realize until it’s too late. My mother is dead, at the hands of the kid, and I have never been angrier. I hate the kid again, I hate the angel too, I hate myself more. I pull a gun on the kid, but I still can’t pull the trigger. Sometimes I wish I could put it to my own head. God comes back, turns out he was the villain all along. Typical. He kills our kid. I can’t let myself feel.

The angel tries to convince me that we’re real. How can I believe that? Is everything I am just a story? Have I ever chosen anything? Does the angel really care about me? Do I really care about him? Another one of our friends dies. I blame the angel, I push him away, because I can’t look at him if I think what I feel for him might not be real. I meet up with someone I loved. He’s a monster now, I have to kill him. He dies holding me. I wish I was dead sometimes too. My brother is sick, he gets kidnapped by God. I’m spinning in circles. Me and the angel end up in Purgatory again. He gets taken from me. I’m so alone, so scared, I break down in the one place I could get lost in forever searching for the angel, I don’t want to leave him, please, don’t make me leave him. I have to keep looking, get back to the real world to save my brother. How will I choose? Thank god, or, whatever, I find the angel. I’ll tell him this time, but he stops me. He must know. He doesn’t want me, no one wants me. Why would they? Chuck has taken everything from me. I have to kill him, no matter the cost. The cost is gonna be our kid, raised from the dead by Death. I guess the one thing we have going for us is we don’t stay dead for long. I’m ready to let my kid die for my freedom. My brother stands in the way, I pull a gun on him. He talks me down, he’s the only one that can. I decide to take it out on Death, my pain, my anger, my rage. I take the angel and we find her, she chases us. Another trap. I realize that I’ve trapped us both. Why am I so worthless?

The angel looks at me. He smiles. He tells me how worthy I am, that I’m good, that I changed him. How can I tell him how he changed me. He tells me he’ll die for loving me. Then he shouldn’t, I’m not worth his life. Don’t leave me, please, I can’t lose you, you don’t know what it does it me when you leave me. He tells me he loves me. I try to tell him a fraction of the things I feel for him, but it’s too late. He’s taken before my eyes, and this time I know there’s no getting him back.

I’m left on the floor, unable to move.

This time I know, I’ll never let myself love again, because my heart is so shattered that it’s powdered, there’s no repairing it now. I’ve always been broken, but this time I’m not just broken: I’m destroyed.

#so uh yeah idk what this is #dean #spn #my writing #supernatural #dean winchester #destiel #im so sorry????? idk where this came from #I have never loved anyone the way I love him

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bratdesire · 4 years ago

Text

All Bark and No Bite

Pairing: Tsukishima Kei x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Noncon, lowkey incel Tsukki, yandere ( i think?), degrading language, knifeplay, misogyny, slut shaming, brat taming, slapping, belting, mentions of blood, choking, emotional manipulation, belly bulge, overstimulation, painful orgasm, unprotected sex, general meanness, time skip spoilers?

Genre: Smut (gross)

Author’s Note: This is mean, nasty Tsukki brain rot and I had no reason at all to write this. He’s a fucking beast in this and I apologize for nothing. Hopefully someone likes it tho. As always, thank you to my betas @sempiternal-amour, @kidwine, @india-katsuki!!

Word count: 3.9k

Summary: Tsukishima teaches his roommate’s bratty girlfriend a lesson or two.

Please heed the warnings, it’s dark in here ;;;;

Tsukishima has hated you since he laid eyes on you.

You personify everything that he despises, from your big bratty mouth, to your typical bitchy attitude, to your ridiculous wardrobe which must only consist of tiny crop tops and slutty skirts that barely cover your ass.

Most of all, he hates that you never fail to give him a raging hard on anytime you’re around. But it’s really not his fault, not with the way you prance around his and Kuroo’s apartment in your tiny, indecent outfits and surely not with the sinful moans he hears you make through the thin wall between their bedrooms. He knows you know exactly what you’re doing.

You can’t not know.

He knows you’re trying to tempt him, test his resolve. He doesn’t miss the way you make sure he’s looking when you bend over in your too-short skirt, panties conveniently missing. You’re always mouthing off to him, trying to goad him into an argument, knowing Kuroo will always come to your defense.

You’re trying to push him until the thin, fraying thread that is his self-control snaps.

One day, it does.

You’re standing in the kitchen, boiling some pasta for dinner when Tsukishima unlocks the front door. Great, he thinks, he’s had a long day full of stressful negotiations for the museum and now you’re here to sour his mood even more. Usually Kuroo is there to smooth out any tension that develops between you, quickly defusing any arguments before you start full-on screaming at each other, so your conflicts have never risen above that threshold.

But Kuroo’s not here, as Tsukishima learns from you in your annoyingly snarky tone, “Tetsu won’t be home until late tonight. He told me to tell you he said to fuck off if you bothered me.” You’re smirking, feeling superior in the belief that you’re safe from his wrath because you’re his roommate’s girlfriend and he wants so badly to wipe that smirk off your face, preferably by belting you until you bleed.

“I didn’t ask, brat,” Tsukishima sneers, narrowing his eyes at you as he passes on the way to his room. He’s trying to keep a calm, collected persona, but you just get under his skin in a way that no one else does. Usually he lets those types of comments go but he’s just so tired, so tense, and so fed up with your attitude that his bubbling anger threatens to break the surface and boil over. He breathes in, breathes out, breathes in, breathes out. He can tolerate your unruly behavior for at least a few hours until Kuroo gets home, he tells himself. He truthfully doesn’t care about his relationship with his roommate, Kuroo just offered him a cheap place to stay after high school graduation, but he knows that if he did hurt you he’d have to find a new place to live and that would just be a headache that he doesn’t want to deal with.

After changing out of his work clothes and putting on sweatpants and a t-shirt, he makes his way down the hall and back into the kitchen to make himself dinner because he sure as hell isn’t going to eat anything you make. Girls his age never know how to cook, only knowledgeable in spreading their legs for any alpha male that looks their way.

Much to Tsukishima’s irritation, you’re still in the kitchen piddling around like the clueless bitch you are, incapable of boiling a simple box of pasta without the water boiling over and making a mess of the stove. He lets out a groan of exasperation, walking over to where you’re standing in front of the stove to remove the pot from the burner.

“Can’t do anything without fucking it up can you, brat?” He growls at you, purposefully clipping your shoulder as he moves behind you to throw the ruined pasta away. He knows he’s baiting you into an argument and that you’ll take the bait, but the knowledge that Kuroo won’t be home for a while makes him want to see how far you’re willing to go without your boyfriend present.

“You’re such a fucking asshole, you know that? No wonder no one likes you,” you huff, leaning against the stove and crossing your arms. The action squishes your breasts together and he can see the faint outline of your areolas through the thin material of your shirt.

“As if I care about what a useless brat like you has to say about me.” Tsukishima scoffs and he can see your anger in the way your shoulders shake.

“You barely fucking know me, who are you to call me useless?” You push yourself off the stove and take a step closer to him.

“I know enough about you to know that you’re useless.” He can feel his resolve fraying more and more as each word leaves your bitchy mouth.

“Oh, I’m useless? Didn’t that little ginger boy you played volleyball with in high school get on the Japan National team while you work at a museum?” You’re smiling triumphantly as if you’ve won this battle of wits, but Tsukishima can rattle off insults in his sleep and this isn’t his first time putting someone in their place.

“You know Kuroo only keeps you around because you’re pretty and you’re a warm, wet hole waiting for him to fuck when he gets home.” He crosses his own arms this time, a satisfied grin spreading across his face.

“So you think I’m pretty?” You’re snickering at the reddening of his face and the twisting of his delicate features and it fills him with so much rage that the thread...

Just.

Snaps.

He’s on you so fast that you can’t even blink before he has you pinned to the countertop, one hand squeezing the back of your neck and the other twisting your arm painfully behind you. Tsukishima relishes in the little yelp of pain you make when he twists your arm back farther.

“Absolutely not. Your slutty cunt is the only good thing about you and even that has probably been stretched out by all the cocks you’ve taken.” His voice is calm, collected, as if he were discussing the weather and not verbally abusing you while he has you pressed into the countertop. Your fight-or-flight response triggers and you start kicking and screaming, thrashing against him in a blind attempt to wrench yourself from his grasp.

“What the fuck are you doing? Fucking asshole get off of me and let me go!” The hand that’s holding your arm quickly grabs your other wrist while his other hand wrenches you upward by a painful grip in your hair. Your back is now pressed against Tsukishima’s chest, wrists restrained by his long fingers and head bent back so your eyes meet his. They’re cold, unfeeling and send a sickly chill down your spine that makes you still immediately.

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll be quiet and calm down. It’ll be easier that way for the both of us.” The monotony of his voice is even more sinister in this moment where you’re completely at his mercy. Your eyes widen in horror as you feel his cock pressing against your ass and it causes you to start fighting him again, no coordination in the way your muscles move in your frantic movements. You’re screaming, just hoping somebody will hear you, somebody will come save you.

Your hopes are meaningless when you’re so small, so vulnerable. Tsukishima knows no one will come for you and he knows you’ll never be able to overpower him. You’re completely at his mercy, whether you choose to comply or not.

“You know, even if nobody comes for me now, Tetsu will be home later and I’ll tell him everything you did to me.” You’re confident that the threat of your boyfriend will deter him from taking his abuse any further. You struggle in his grip to hold yourself a little higher so you’re more eye level with him. “He’ll kill you if he sees one hair out of place and I tell him it was you.”

How cute, you still think you have control of this situation.

“I’ll just deny whatever you claim that I did or didn’t do. Who do you think Kuroo will believe? Me, his longtime friend from high school, or you, his whore girlfriend he met a year ago?” A smug smile tugs at his lips, knowing he’s planted a seed of doubt in your mind that Kuroo will believe you.

“Tetsu loves me! He’ll believe whatever I tell him.” He can’t tell if you’re trying to convince him or yourself.

“You really think Kuroo loves anything more than your tits,” he uses one hand to grope at your breasts, “or your ass,” the other hand sliding down to fondle at the supple flesh. The feeling of his long, thin fingers on your body causes you to start fighting again, but this time your arms are free so you start flailing them blindly, hoping to stun him long enough that’ll give you enough time to get away. You manage to twist around and smack him in the face and almost wriggle out of his grip but as luck would have it, you don’t get away. You won’t get away.

Rage takes over his features, his muscles tensing and flexing. Tsukishima quickly raises his hand and brings it down across the left side of your face. It takes a moment for you to realize that he slapped you, confusion slowly morphing into an expression of sheer, unadulterated fear. The horror that dawns on you, overtaking your features, warms his heart.

“If you’re not going to behave and continue to be a brat, I’m going to treat you how a brat should be treated.” He drags you, kicking and screaming, down the hall to his bedroom. He wishes you’d shut the fuck up, but that’ll be taken care of soon enough.

Kuroo thinks you’re his sweet, innocent girlfriend but Tsukishima knows better, knows what you really are. You’re a mouthy, bratty whore who needs to learn her place and he’ll be the one to remind you what you are.

Once you’re in his bedroom he turns and uses one hand to lock the door. How pathetically weak you are that he only needs one hand to restrain you. He digs around with one arm underneath his bed, slowly getting frustrated before he finally grabs what he’s looking for.

Handcuffs.

He grabs your arm and fastens a cuff to your wrist, tightening them just enough so the cold, hard metal digs into your flesh. It only takes a few moments of your incessant struggling for redness to bloom across the skin of your wrists and Tsukishima can’t help but smile at the sight.

“What kind of sick fuck just has a pair of handcuffs lying around?” You’re scared, he can hear it in the way your voice shakes, but you’re trying to act tough and he can’t help but roll his eyes.

Tsukishima hauls your body over to his bed, forcing you to follow him if you want to prevent fracturing your wrist. He forces you onto the mattress, body bouncing with the impact. With the other cuff in hand, he fastens it to his headboard.

“The kind that’s going to beat your bratty ass into submission before I fuck your stupid cunt.” He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of your flimsy, tiny shorts and pulls them down your legs. You start thrashing harder, trying to slow the movements of his hands but your efforts are futile.

“Stop! What the fuck do you think you’re doing a-asshole!?” You’re on the verge of tears, eyes welling up, bottom lip trembling. You shut your legs as tight as you can in an attempt to impede his quest to remove what’s left of your clothing, but you both know that won’t stop him.

Your entire body stills then seizes up when you see the glint of a box cutter blade in Tsukishima’s hand.

“W-What’re you planning on doing with that?” Your wide, terrified eyes are trained on the blade as he waves it around in the air.

“Stop your whining, I’m not going to cut you with it. It’s just to make removing your clothes easier.” He’s looking at you like a parent would look at a child that was throwing a fit, exasperated and tired of your nonsense. “Hold still and I’ll make this quick. I don’t want to get blood on my sheets just as much as you don’t want to get cut.”

You’re cowering from him, trying to scramble away from him despite the handcuffs anchoring you in place. You gasp when you feel the sharp edge of the blade against your hip, not daring to take another breath. Tsukishima slices through both sides of the little bits of string you call panties, revelling in the way your body trembles underneath him. Another long cut is made down the front of your shirt, the box cutter making quick work of the fabric, and his suspicions are confirmed that you’re not wearing a bra. Of course a whore like you wouldn’t be wearing one.

He admires the enticing curve of your breasts, the way your nipples are hardening in the cool air of his room. Your cheeks are wet with fresh, salty tears and you’re sniveling pathetically. He’s almost tempted to tell you that you’re beautiful like this, tied up and naked, crying, but you don’t deserve his praise.

“Turn over, face down ass up. If I have to tell you a second time, I have no problems carving you up with this blade.” The threat has you scrambling onto your hands and knees, the action hindered by your restraints but you manage to turn over and present your ass to him.

Tsukishima unbuckles his belt, sliding it through the loops of his jeans. He takes it in his hand and folds it in half, inspecting its structural integrity to ensure he won’t destroy it as he whips you with it. The belt is real black leather, heavy in his palm and he knows it’ll make pretty welts on your skin.

“Now, it’s time to beat all of that sass and attitude out of you.”

There’s no warning, no pretense before he starts viciously whipping you with his belt and you’re already screaming. If you hadn’t been so difficult, he might have warmed you up beforehand but he doesn’t mind. Your struggle was like foreplay, a little taste before the main course and it has his cock is straining against his pants.

Every broken cry that leaves your throat sends arousal down his spine and he thinks he

should’ve done this sooner.

He would have if he had known how delicious your screams were.

The blonde is relentless, the impact of the belt never lessening, if anything, the smacks become even more ruthless. Your ass is an angry red and he can see some of the skin beginning to split, fresh, warm blood bubbling to the surface around your deeper wounds.

“P-Please stop, it hurts so much. I can’t take it anymore!” You’re fully sobbing now, tears and snot dripping down your face. “I’ll do a-anything,” you choke out between cries, your voice hoarse from overuse.

“Look at you, bawling hysterically from a few licks with my belt. You really are all bark and no bite. How pathetic,” he sneers.

“Tsukkiiiiii! Please, stop. I’ll do whatever you want as long as you stop hurting me.” The way you say his name is harsh and grating against his ears, but he overlooks it in favor of taking what you’ve been dangling in front of his face all this time.

The sound of Tsukishima’s pants hitting the ground makes you stiffen on the bed, slowly and apprehensively turning your head to look at him. Your eyes widen to the size of dinner plates when you see his cock: thick, hard, and leaking precum.

When you feel the dip of the bed underneath his weight, you start shaking and hyperventilating at the realization that this is really going to happen. “You… You’re really going to do this.” You sound so small, so defeated and his chest swells with pride because he did that—he smothered that blazing fire inside you with little more than a few flicks of his wrist.

“Yeah, and there’s nothing you can do about it so just lie there and take it,” he says as he lines himself up against your slit. When he notices the copious amounts of slick drooling out of your quivering pussy, the man can’t help but laugh at your expense. “Are you actually fucking wet from this? Does being fucked against your will turn you on this much?”

Your cheeks burn with shame and disgust because you are wet from Tsukishima’s abuse. It’s wrong, you know that, but your traitorous body doesn’t even feel like your own as it reacts to his touch. No matter how hard you try, you can’t stop the thrusting of your hips to try to catch the head of his cock each time it slots against the tight ring of muscle around your entrance.

“I always knew you were a cock hungry slut. You don't care whose cock is inside this filthy pussy as long as you’re getting fucked, do you?”

You don’t respond, tears welling up in your eyes and leaving watery trails down your cheeks. He’s right. You asked for this—if you hadn’t tempted him, you wouldn’t be handcuffed to Tsukishima’s bed, waiting for him to defile you.

“I asked you a question,” Tsukishima snarls, fisting your hair in your hand and delivering a sharp spank to your ass. “Tell me how much of a disgusting whore you are.”

“I-I’m a—hiccup—dirty slut that loves t-to get fucked,” you stutter, the words like acid, foul and caustic on your tongue. “All I w-want is a cock inside me.”

“At least you know your place. Now let’s see if this slutty hole of yours is worth anything.” Tsukishima finally thrusts inside you, meeting some resistance from how unprepared you are, but he just pushes harder.

Your walls spasm and clench to try to adjust to his length, but you feel like you’re going to split in half. He’s much bigger than any other man you’ve slept with, stretching and filling you so full your stomach bulges where the tip of his cock is pressed against your cervix.

You scream and writhe on the bed in an attempt to get away from the hard, throbbing length painfully probing your delicate insides, but it’s futile with the handcuffs keeping you firmly shackled to the bed.

“Urgh, shit, for a used hole, you’re so fucking tight. I’m d-definitely going to cum from this.” The blonde takes a sharp breath through clenched teeth, sweat beading on his forehead. He doesn’t want to cum so soon. He can’t cum so soon when he’s waited for this for months.

“P-Please, not inside… I-I’m not on birth control,” you plead softly, hoping he’ll at least spare you the humiliation of having to clean his cum out from inside you.

“Tch, you think I give a shit about that? I’m gonna cum deep inside this pussy, ruin you for Kuroo and any man that’s sorry enough to want to fuck you.” He speaks low, muttering to himself but just loud enough for you to hear.

Despite the aching of your heart each time he speaks, you can feel your pussy begin to give as he fucks into you with abandon, his hips smacking loudly against yours. The sharp burning in your core slowly fades to pleasure as Tsukishima’s cock presses against that little spongy spot inside you that makes you cry out. You bite your lip so hard it bleeds to try to muffle the noise, but it’s no use. He heard you and it just gives him more reason to taunt you.

“Ah, I found it, did I?” the man asks as he hits the spot again and again, making you clench around him as the fluttering of your cunt tells him that you’re close to orgasm. “What a dumb slut you are, about to cream on my cock as I ravage your pussy.”

How utterly fucking humiliating. You’re going to cum on his cock and you didn’t even want this, not with him.

A particularly rough thrust into your g-spot sends electricity down your spine, down your body, and sends you careening over the edge, mouth open in a silent scream. Your sensitive cunt clamps down onto Tsukishima’s cock like a vice, but his ruthless pace doesn’t stop or slow as you shake and convulse underneath him.

It isn’t like any typical orgasm you’ve had, which are usually blissful and warm, flooding your body with pleasure that makes your limbs heavy and your head fuzzy. No, this is almost painful, as if your orgasm was ripped out of you by force.

All of your muscles contract as hard as they can and several seconds pass before they relax, your body shaking all the while. As it hits it feels as if a bucket of ice water was poured over your head, shocking and jarring, and you want to claw your way out of your own skin it's all so intense.

Once the last of the aftershocks leave you, you slump forward on the bed, boneless, chest heaving with every breath. You’re too exhausted to hold yourself up as Tsukishima keeps fucking into your overstimulated cunt, taking no regard for you or your body as he chases his own climax.

You’re whining, gasping, hands fisted into the sheets to try to keep yourself grounded as electricity shoots through you with each thrust.

“Too muuuch, ‘s too much,” you slur, but it only falls on deaf ears.

The blonde pulls almost all the way out before shoving himself back inside the tight, wet heat of your cunt, and pushing against your cervix so hard you think he’s trying to fuck that hole too. You’re so fuck drunk that your eyes cross and your tongue lolls out of your mouth, strings of drool staining the mattress.

“Hey,” he calls out, yanking your hair backwards so you’re arched back towards him. “Don’t pass out; I’m gonna cum soon, so tighten up.”

You’re barely conscious by the time his thrusts become sloppy and uncoordinated, his own peak just on the horizon. His grip on your flesh is bruising, no doubt leaving purple marks in the shape of his fingers. The pistoning of his hips gets even faster, lewd squelching noises filling the room.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum inside this slutty little pussy and you’re going to take it all,” Tsukishima groans, digging his long fingers into your hips as he fucks into you.

All you can do is whine and mewl as he buries himself to the hilt, cursing and groaning as he shoots thick, warm spurts of cum into your sore, quivering womb. He leans forward, resting his forehead on your sweaty back as he catches his breath.

Some time passes before he withdraws and you twitch and gasp, the barest stimulation too much for your abused cunt. You try to curl in on yourself to go to sleep, but Tsukishima grabs your ankle and drags your limp body toward the edge of the bed.

“You really think we’re done here? Not even close. I’m not stopping until I’ve soiled every single one of your filthy holes.”

#tw knifeplay #tw noncon #tw dark #tsukishima kei #hq x reader #meany tsukki #idk what to even tag this #yandere tsukishima kei #yandere tsukishima #haikyuu smut #yandere haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #tw yandere #bunny scribbles #tw rape

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the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years ago

Text

Everybody Talks Too Much (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Mute!Reader)

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language, brief violence Summary: Whenever Cassandra gets angry, no one wants to deal with her. Well, no one but you, that is. Thankfully, the middle child appreciates your company... not that she'd ever admit it. Notes: Another self-indulgent fic with a selectively mute reader. This one's a lil different. Sections in italic are mostly indications that the reader is miming actions in order to communicate, though there are a few internal thoughts that are marked as such. Unlike the past two I've done, this takes place pre-relationship, so there's some mutual pining of sorts. I think that's the word.

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Among the many servants of Castle Dimitrescu, there were a number of secret rules to be followed. Guidelines that were never written down, only spoken in hushed whispers, for specific (and dangerous) circumstances. Most could be divided into one of two categories: 1, how to reduce the chances of a Lady of the house killing someone. 2, how to make sure that if they kill someone, it will not be you. Of these rules, there was one that you knew best of all, despite never having been told it. Why? Because you have observed it time and time again. After all, the rule revolved around you. To put it plainly… If Cassandra Dimitrescu was in an awful mood, but had yet to draw blood, send in the mute.

Even now, as you rushed down a corridor, you did not know why this rule was in place. You simply knew that you had been summoned countless times by frantic maidens, to go serve their volatile mistress. Admittedly you did understand their eagerness to thrust the task upon someone else. Cassandra was often considered the deadliest of the Dimitrescu daughters, for she was the quickest to anger, the one with the deepest bloodlust, and took the longest to calm down. Personally, you disagreed, believing that it wasn’t terribly hard to know what she did and did not like. All it took was some observation. It was Daniela who scared you, seeing as she was unpredictable. She didn’t even need to be in a bad mood to want to kill you.

Of course, that didn’t necessarily mean that you saw no danger in working with Cassandra. In fact, you saw a fair bit, such as now: Right as you round the corner, a shiny object hurls past your head, embedding itself into the wall. Had you been walking ever so slightly faster… Well, you preferred not to dwell on such things, especially not when the one who threw the thing was still nearby. Based on the howling laughter and swarm of insects that moves around you, the intended target was Lady Daniela. Across the room is the markswoman herself; Cassandra stood tall, huffing in anger, staring at the spot her sister had just vacated from.

“Damn it!” She yelled, stomping her foot as if the resulting shockwave might do what her weapon had not. Oddly amused, you’re quick to remove the sickle from the wall, careful as to not damage it. It’s a tad dirty, but nothing you can’t fix with your handy pocket cloth. Cleaning as you walk, you slowly move towards your employer, not even bothering to spare her a glance. After all, you had your own rules for dealing with her.

(1: Avoid eye contact for at least one minute after an outburst.)

By the time you make it to Cassandra, the minute has come and gone, allowing you to ever-so politely look her in the eyes when you return her blade. She scoffs, then practically rips the sickle from your hands. This was your job, however, so you made no complaints. Not that you could, at least not verbally. Instead, you gave a short bow of acknowledgement. Afterwards you stood still, awaiting either instructions or a dismissal. Neither came.

“I can’t believe that little shit tried to take my favorite dagger and thought she could get away with it! Agh, the nerve of her! Can you believe this?” Cassandra snapped, turning to you as if you might agree with her. Nod, simple yet effective. “At least you know how to handle a blade. Damn Daniela is lucky she didn’t get any scratches on mine.” Then she pulls the knife in question from its place on her belt, letting it gleam in the light. A soft exhale, head tipping to the side, wow is it pretty. So is the one holding it. Your mind wanders but your gaze does not. Always polite, always ready to serve.

(2: Do not get distracted; she is no patient lover, rather a demanding boss.)

“Cassandra! What was all that noise a minute ago?” Someone called, interrupting your ‘conversation’. The speaker soon appears, being none other than Lady Bela, the most reasonable of the castle residents. Though that meant little, considering the nature of her family. As if to prove your point, Cassandra merely rolls her eyes in reply, refusing to divulge the truth. And so Bela turned her gaze to you, perking a brow. “Feeling up to talking today?” She asked, already knowing the answer. Of course, your hands are already moving, not even waiting for her to finish speaking. This is a game you know intimately.

A hand goes to your belt, moving to pull a nonexistent blade from its sheath. Raising it, moving it forward then back several times, launching it towards the wall- towards the hole left behind. Then shifting, waving your hand in front of your face while exhaling a sharp breath. Flinching. An exaggerated gulp, pretending to check if your nose is still attached, sighing in relief. Lastly, an inclination of your head towards the culprit. Cassandra.

“I was aiming for Daniela. Not that it matters, nobody got hurt,” she stated, confident. Both hands clasped together, then tapping the palms together, mimicking a heartbeat at a reasonable pace. Suddenly a stomp. The beating stops, and you hold your hands next to your ear, as if listening for signs of life. Pause. Three seconds. Worried expression, eyes wide. Finally, fast as a gunshot, the heart beats again, wildly. At this, Bela shoots her sister a look of doubt, as well as judgement. Hoping to change the subject, Cassandra looks to you. “What are you doing here anyway?”

Rubbing your chin, thinking. Squinting for effect. Ah, got it! Both hands go to your sides, lifting the imaginary hem of a dress you aren’t wearing. Waltzing forward, yet in place, with the poise expected of a professional maid. Then the focus shifts to your face. Fear. A silent scream, a hand at your forehead, feeling like you… might… faint. Falling backwards, making a step at the very last second to prevent a real collapse. End scene.

“Someone was scared?” Bela asked, sounding uncharacteristically unsure of herself. When you nod, she does as well, considering the implications. “Why would they send you?”

“I hardly care why, I just want to know who so I can kick their ass,” Cassandra interjects, taking a step closer to you. All you do in response is shrug. Unsurprisingly this is not enough to please her, and before you know it she’s wrapped a hand around your throat. “Give. Me. A. Name. Now.” A perked brow. Thoughts practically telegraphed. ‘What do you expect?’ Opening your mouth, slightly, then wide, back to almost closed. No sound comes out. Obviously. It’s not like you wanted to break your own rule, but in this case you had no choice.

(3: Give her whatever she wants, consequences be damned.)

Luckily for you, Bela acts as a foil to Cassandra, there to smooth the seas. Moving behind you, she reaches into your back pocket and retrieves the notepad you keep there. Then she’s handing it to you while making eye contact with her sister. Cassandra promptly releases you, though she’s clearly not pleased, going so far as to push you away in one last act of anger. Internally you roll your eyes. On the outside, however, you quickly write down everything you know… which isn’t much.

“I don’t remember who it was. A lot of people have asked. This happens a lot.” Then you hand the paper to Bela, who soon looks back up at you in confusion. Too antsy to wait for her own turn, Cassandra yoinks the notepad from her sister’s hands, reading it over several times before reacting.

“What the fuck? Why would they send you to me because somebody pissed their pants in fear? I’m going to kill someone. Ugh, I don’t- this doesn’t make any goddamn sense,” Cassandra ranted, pacing back and forth, looking like she wanted to destroy something immediately. To your surprise, Bela doesn’t look the slightest bit concerned. If anything, she looks amused, and smiles when the two of you make eye contact. Something tells you that she knows something that you don’t. Before you can react, she quietly retrieves your notepad and returns it to you. Then she pauses, thinking, eying you with curiosity.

“Why don’t you go for now? See if anyone thanks you for stepping in, hmm?” She suggested, tone implying that this was absolutely about something else entirely. Still, you don’t care to disobey, and so you bid the two of them farewell with a deep bow. As you leave, you can almost make out part of what they say next. But you’re certain that you must have heard incorrectly. “Showing your favoritism a little too much, sister? If even the servants can see it-” the rest of the sentence is cut off by angry muttering from Cassandra. After that you’re too far away to hear anymore. What a strange day...

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“Hey, you know where Lady Cassandra’s room is, right?” Ygritte asked, casually, definitely not having just been told by someone else that you were the solution to her problem. Pretending that you were unaware of this, you give her a smile and a nod. Later, behind her back, you will mentally add her to your list of people to watch out for. Maybe even decide to refuse to share your biscuits with her. In the meantime, you pretend that you don’t mind whatever task she’s about to dump on you. “Can you bring these books to her? I really have to get back to the kitchen soon, and that’s in the opposite direction…”

Technically true. Something told you that the real problem was that Cassandra had been extra loud the past few days. Regardless, you accept the books from her, leaving before she even finishes thanking you. Why do people do this? I don’t get it, you think. It’s like they think I’m immune to her rage. If that were true, I’d gladly throw myself between her and others. But no, that’s not the case. Hmmph, if only they saw my scars. Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you keep walking, subconsciously rubbing the spot on your arm where Cassandra had cut you. Well, the worst spot. Being pain tolerant had made her take interest in you, during your first few weeks, but it’s what allowed you to learn her rules. Your rules, really.

Knock. Knock. A pause… three more, much softer. The door swings open, revealing your Lady, whose eyes widen at the sight of you. Tipping your hat (which you are not wearing), you greet her, forcing another smile. Then you present the books, free hand gesturing with a spiral motion towards them. She doesn’t respond. No, wait, she glances at the door hinges, considering closing the door in your face. Now both of you are staring at each other, daring the other to move.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” she finally said. There’s a gruffness to her voice that you hadn’t expected. It’s unlike her usual tone, less angry, more tired. Were those bags under her eyes?... No, just smudged makeup. “Don’t just stand there- tell me why you’re here.” Again, you gesture to the books, extending your hands further towards her. This time she takes a half-step backwards to avoid you. Peculiar. “Someone else was supposed to bring them, dipshit. Fucking hell, why can’t anyone around here do their damn jobs?” At last, she takes the books from you, carrying them deeper into your room. Though she does not close the door, you assume that your job is done. Or maybe you simply do not wish to deal with a Cassandra who’s frustrated by your specific presence. Either way, it breaks one of your rules, though you do not remember until it is too late.

(4: Do not leave until dismissed by a member of the family.)

“Where the hell are you going?” The sound of buzzing flies, a blur of motion around you, then the form of Cassandra solidifying in front of you. One of her hands is raised, pressing against the center of your chest. She pushes you, hard, making you stumble backwards into her room. Next thing you know you’ve crashed onto her floor. A tad stunned, you bring a hand up to hold your head, blinking rapidly for a few seconds. There’s the sound of a door closing, and then someone’s trying to help you stand. “I didn’t say you could leave yet. Now c’mon, I’ve got stuff for you to do.” Then she’s guiding you to her bed, making you sit down on the end. Panicked thoughts race through your mind one after another. What exactly was she intending? Thankfully you don’t have to wait long to find out. “Read through these, and-” a pause, like she hadn’t known what she was going to say until she was already speaking- “take notes. Make a summary of the bookmarked sections, or whatever.” Handing you a couple books (neither of which being ones you had just brought to her), she sits on the other side of the bed, refusing to look at you. She does, however, say one last thing, voice barely above a whisper. “Just stay for a while, okay?”

Inside your head, you make a mental note to amend your list of rules.

(4.b: Do not leave until dismissed by a member of the family. If Cassandra asks you to stay, you stay, no matter what. It’s worth it.)

#cassandra dimitrescu x reader #cassandra dimitrescu #resident evil: village #re8 village #stayed up to write this #totes worth it

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crumbledcastle28 · 3 years ago

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Chapter 12: A Death

Warnings: major character death, fighting, violence, killing, anxiety, and blaster fire.

Author’s Note: The series is starting to pick up! Thank you to anyone who has liked, shared, reblogged, commented, or supported in anyway! It means the world.

As the ride back to the Razor Creat continued on, your anxiety and nerves only got worse. They got so bad, that you decided to do something you hadn’t done it years.

You used your emotions and the power of the force around you to connect with the atmosphere of the town. Not only that, but you tried to connect with Mando in particular.

You closed your eyes, the child in a close grip to your chest, and breathed. You had been out of practice for a while, but you had to know what was going on. You felt helpless and out of the loop, so you had to at least try.

As you breathed and concentrated, you slowly felt the feelings of the town tingle up your spine and over your arms.

Controlling the force like this used to make you feel like you were coming home. Like you were completely in control of your entire body and perfectly safe. But, as cheesy as it sounds, the child in your arms and the man in the town took that power. They were your home now.

You breathed in through your nose, and you sensed timidity and anxiety. This wasn’t too abnormal, most people had a decent amount of anxiety you could sense, but you also sensed annoyance and impatience.

You couldn’t tell who was feeling it, but someone really wanted something. The scariest part… was that their impatience was turning into rage.

You got a flash in your brain of an older man standing up from a table, making his way across the room. He was the one who was so up tight.

“The client,” you mumble to yourself, finally connecting the dots in your head.

All of a sudden, a flash of red blinds you in our meditation, and your eyes pop open instantly.

“No,” you mumble to yourself. Your mind immediately went to the worse case scenario.

Did the client just shoot someone?

Your entire body felt numb with fear, and the child could sense your uneasiness. He gurgled and whined at you, trying to make sure you were ok, but your mind was racing and you could barely catch your breath.

“Kuiil, Y/N, are you back to the ship yet?” breaks your train of thought.

Mando.

You barely have time to process that you just heard his voice before Kuiil replies.

“Not yet,” he says, and it takes all of your strength not to rip the comlink out of Kuiil’s hands and scream for Mando to get out of there.

“Get back to the ship and bail!” Mando yells through the static. “Get y/n and the kid out of here. We are pinned down!”

No, you think to yourself. No no no.

Your hands begin to shake and you feel like falling off the bluurg.

But this isn’t you.

No, you think to yourself. You are not losing it now. You need to keep this kid safe. Now is not the time for this.

You take a deep breath, controlling your emotions, and you turn around to look at Kuiil.

“Can this thing go any faster?” you ask, and he takes the reins and grips them. He then brings them up into the air and back down onto the bluurg’s harness, and the speed picks up instantly.

The Razor Crest is not much farther. You just had to hang on for a bit longer.

You start to feel hope rising in your chest again. Your adrenaline was pumping and you were ready for what comes next.

But, a horrible realization caused a wave to put out the fire inside you.

“Kuiil,” you say to him. “The Empire has to know the child isn’t there,” you say, but he continues to focus on riding.

If they know the child isn’t there… they are going to come for him.

You hold the child a bit closer under your chin and you make sure the longspear in your hand is ready for a fight. You had to keep your guard up and your head clear.

You will not let Mando down. Not again.

“Kuiil, are you back to the ship yet,” Mando asks again, but Kuiil ignores him.

“They’re onto us. Kuiil, Y/N, somebody COME IN!” Mando yells.

You turn around to reach for the commlink from Kuiil but he turns your hand away.

“They will trace us,” he says, and you nod disappointedly.

Mando was panicking. You could feel it. You just wanted to help him. You wanted to make sure he knows you and the child are ok and are going to be ok. He had always helped you feel safe and reassured, and you just wanted to make him feel better.

You felt incredibly guilty, but Kuiil was right. You couldn’t risk getting traced.

The Razor Crest started coming into view. The outline showed clearly against the bright blue sky, and you felt Kuiil make the bluurg go even faster.

We can make it.

You use the remote Mando gave you to open the ship’s ramp and activate the security system.

Almost there, you think to yourself. Almost.

But almost is never enough.

A loud shriek of speeder bikes deafens you, and the next thing you know, you are flying through the air.

You hold onto the child for dear life, and you hit the ground hard. Luckily, you landed on your back so the child was safe, but the wind was completely knocked out of you.

You struggle to stand, and you start to hear blaster fire. You always hated that sound.

As if things couldn’t get any worse, you see the all too familiar white visors of stormtroopers looming over Kuiil’s body on the ground.

“No,” you scream, but you were too late.

The blaster bolt hit Kuiil directly in the back, and you felt the life leave him.

This is it, you think. I’m all alone.

You wanted to scream and cry for Kuiil. He had been an amazing help and a good man. A loyal friend. He deserved a proper mourning.

But, there was no time for that now.

You were shaking like never before and you could not catch your breath to save your life. The child in your arms was shaking too, and you held his head close to you.

Keep the child safe, even if it’s the last thing you do, you think to yourself.

Kuiil’s death will not be in vain.

The stormtroopers turn their heads to look at you, and you race to action. You were not going to be killed by some lazy eyed stormtroopers.

Luckily for you, your longspear landed only a few feet from where you did, so you leap for it.

Breathe, you think to yourself. Let the force do the work.

They start to fire at you, but you use the longspear to deflect the shots back at them. Mando had chosen a perfect weapon for you. It moved almost exactly like a lightsaber.

As you got more used to the weapon, you started moving closer and closer to the stormtroopers until you were in a full on run, deflecting their blaster shots the entire time you were running.

The child was still in your arms, you were guarding him as best you could, but he still managed to giggle.

You finally get close enough to the stormtroopers to wack one right in the head with the end of your longspear, and you immediately turn around to stab the other stormtrooper directly through the stomach.

You turn back around to meet the stormtrooper you had just hit in the head, and he is laying on his back with his blaster pointed at you. He is obviously terrified. His hands are shaking and he can’t even move his fingers enough to pull the trigger.

You kick the gun out of his hands, and he raises his arms in surrender.

“I… I know who you are,” he says. “You’re.. you’re supposed to be on our side. If you do this, the Empire will find you.”

He’s trying to intimidate me, you think.

It’s not working.

“I’m not on your side,” you state.

“And the Empire can go ahead and try. I’ll be ready,” you say, and you kill the man with his own gun.

These men were not innocent by any means, but they could have been taken from their homes just like you. You feel guilty that you took their lives from them, but they tried to hurt you. More importantly, they tried to hurt the kid. So you did what you had to do.

You look down at the kid in your arms to make sure he is ok, and you notice he is giggling and reaching for your face.

You scoff back, and pet in between his ears.

This kid has obviously seen worse.

You take a deep breath, and start booking it back to the Razor Crest on foot. The speeder bikes had been ruined by your deflecting of the blaster shots, and they were just difficult to use all around, so you just ran.

You ran faster than you had in a long time.

Your home was just on the horizon, and there was not stopping you now.

Except, maybe, a giant IG-11 droid.

Tag list:

@leahkenobi @440mxs-wife @farfromjustordinary @pinkninja200 @bookloverfilmoholic

#din djarin #din djarin fluff #din djarin imagine #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mando #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you

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phoomwhoosh · 2 years ago

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ALRIGHT. So, I have some thoughts about season 5 of Cobra Kai. This will be under a cut because I am not a heathen.

So, I have watched season 5 twice: once all of the way through and then a second time just for Daniel’s arc. And not because I am only a fan of Daniel. I do love a lot of these guys. Daniel’s arc, though, man...

Anyway, I guess I’ll start with some of my favorite bits/characters:

LOVED Tory this season. Her scenes with Devon really were nice. Frankly, her whole arc and such was fantastic. I HATED that she was forced to break her damned hand, holy shit! I actually had to look away because it was so horrific. I do like how she caught onto Kreese’s bullshit and straight-up went, “Fuck this.” I also like how she mentioned Daniel getting hurt because of their antics and her genuine shock when Kreese was like, “That bitch got what he deserved.”

Sam’s sequence in the nightmarish pod. I like how well it showed her internal struggles and all of the labels she’s been forced to live with. I liked Sam a lot this season.

I actually liked Mike. I totally love that he turned his life around and we got to hear his story. Also, him apologizing to Daniel? Gold. I loved that. I also loved how he interacted with Chozen and Johnny. Him stealing the party limo was just...yeah, that was definitely great.

Daniel’s former rivals (the core three, at least) coming together to help him? Hell yes!!!!!

Chozen was KILLING it this season and I love him so much. I was so, so worried he had died and was gonna legit cry if he had. Also, I adored how he trained the kids and just…man, he was amazing! And his SHIRTS! Once more, I find myself wanting to steal his wardrobe.

Amanda being Jessica’s cousin? LOVED it more than anything. I saw somebody mention on a post that it makes so much sense that Daniel met Amanda through someone else and it really does. As kind as Daniel is, he very clearly doesn’t have a whole lot of friends.

Jessica telling Amanda more about Terry? That was fantastic. I saw someone else say that it was good for Amanda to hear that from someone that wasn’t Daniel and I agree 1000%. It would’ve been hard for Daniel to explain since it would’ve basically just been him heaping blame on himself for things that weren’t really his fault and it wouldn’t have helped matters at all. Whereas hearing it from Jessica, from the outside perspective of someone who was around while it was going on and who was actively involved at several points, yeah. That was better for Amanda. Really love how they handled Daniel and Amanda this season.

There were more things, I’m sure. XD

And now for what I didn’t like:

The teen drama. It is sooooo old to me. Maybe it’s because I’m 30 now and I’ve reached my limit with this stuff. But for real? At this point, it feels like the teens are dating for no reason other than they have to because the writers are holding them at gunpoint. Don’t get me wrong, SOME of them are cute but others are just…yeah.

I wish Sam hadn’t befriended Moon and Yasmine again. I miss Aisha. I honestly wish that those two had been written-off and Aisha’s potential as a character had been realized in full. (I know she left forever ago but listen...I will miss her every season.)

I wasn’t a fan of how Kenny continued to assault and bully Anthony. Yes, I understand why he hates Anthony. However, during that water park scene, they could’ve made Anthony crack his skull open on the edge of the pool and/or drown! THAT is when THEY should have been kicked-out! That shit is dangerous!

I don’t feel like getting into the Mexico plot line or Johnny only getting Miguel and Robby to make-up for the Redacted (not going into that one either) because I feel like enough people have already talked about all of that. Just know that I too am disappointed in some of the things that happened with Johnny this season.

I’m gonna talk about Terry and Daniel probably in a separate post because, honestly, my most favorite parts of the season were the ones involving them. I apologize in advance for when I find time in my life to go feral over that.

#ck spoilers

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topazy · 3 years ago

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Silent bloom

Pairings: Finn Collins/ Reader Bellamy Blake/reader

Warnings: swearing, and character death

Chapter: 2.03

"They want you. If we want a truce, we have to give them Finn."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Raven asked, stepping forward.

Clarke avoided making eye contact with any of you, "That’s their offer."

"That’s not an offer," you snapped. "That’s a death sentence."

"It’s punishment," Finn squeezed your shoulder lightly as he brushed past you. "For what happened at the village. Blood for blood."

—

Murphy walked towards where Finn was standing with a complex look on his face. "Hey, man. Byrne actually gave me a gun. I guess we really are screwed, huh? Look, we kicked their asses last time. We’ll do it again."

Finn looked at him blankly and said, "A lot of people died last time."

You chewed on your bottom lip as Bellamy and Finn continued talking, completely zoning out. Would the grounders really take Finn as a trade? The thought made your stomach turn. Your biggest fear right now was that someone would betray Finn and turn him over.

Hearing Clarke’s voice, you looked up again, to see Finn and Bellamy walking in another direction.

"Hey," Murphy said, stepping forward. "Any orders for me, princess?"

The blonde glared at him, "stay away from me."

You were surprised at the look of hurt on his face. "Just trying to be helpful."

It was obviously by the venom in Clarke’s voice that she blamed Murphy for what happened in the village. "You were with him at the village."

"I tried to stop him."

"Not hard enough!"

"You know, you want to start blaming people, Clarke?" Murphy stepped closer to her. "He wasn’t out there looking for me, was he? It’s not my fault he went batshit crazy."

He was out there looking for you.

You stepped in between them, stopping this before it went any further. "Enough! Both of you. Clarke, go do whatever it is you need to do. Yelling, and arguing isn’t helping anyone."

You watched Clarke walk away before turning to face Murphy, who looked slightly guilty. "What?"

"I…I didn’t mean it was your fault."

You shrugged, pretending his words didn’t strike a nerve. "Whatever, we have more important things to think about. Like how the hell we are going to save Finn."

"He’s a dead man walking," Murphy raised his hands defensively when you raised your brows at him. "What? I’m only pointing out the obvious."

You looked back towards the fence, and slowly walked towards it as the chanting got louder. You felt a lump at the back of your throat, as tears threatened to spill from your eyes.

Murphy stood beside you, "jus drein jus daun, Jus drein jus daun."

"Blood must have blood."

You looked back around to face Abby, and Jaha who were talking to some guards. "You don’t trust them, do you?"

"Do you?"

Murphy scoffed at your comment. Of course he didn’t. Nobody who has been screwed over by them should.

"Well, angel eyes, if we leave it to them, we are definitely screwed."

"Yeah," you agreed. Besides Abby, none of them would care what happened to Finn. "We’re going to need a miracle to happen."

—

"What’s the plan?" You asked, stopping beside Finn.

"The dropship."

Clarke shook her head. "You know that this is the safest place for him right now.”

"It isn't if they're turning on him," Bellmay pointed out. "We can protect him at the dropship until we figure this thing out. Grab your gear and meet at Raven's gate in five minutes. She’s already working on cutting the power to the fence."

Bellmay was right. Going to the dropship would probably be the safest place for him right now. It would also give you time to try and figure something else out.

"Okay," Finn nodded. "But nobody's coming with me."

You frowned, "of course we are. This isn’t up for discussion."

Clarke pressed her lips together. She still didn’t seem convinced that it was a good idea. "We are surrounded by Grounders."

"It will be easier if we split up." Noticing others starting to shout at a Finn you gripped his arm as Bellamy knocked the boy called Gruff out. "We need to go, now."

—

You nervously gripped the gun tightly, praying you didn’t make too much noise as you walked through the forest.

"I know I’ve said it before, but-"

"Shh," you stared at Finn wide-eyed.

He has been mostly silent since you caught up with him, and now wasn’t the time to start talking. You knew by the look on his face that he wasn’t going to let whatever was on his mind go.

"I was scared... when you disappeared. I thought I’d never get the chance to say I’m sorry, and I needed you to know that I love you."

"Finn," you stopped walking and turned to face him. "We have talked about this. None of it matters now, all that matters is getting you through this. We find a way to save you, and then we rescue Monty and Jasper, along with everybody else who the mountain men took." You let out a small laugh, "Who would have thought it would be grounders that saved me from them? "Ironic, huh."

"What were they like, the grounders who took you?" He whispered.

"Eh…good as far as kidnappers go. They gave me clean clothes, food, and water." You let out a sigh, "I was afraid they were going to torture me like they did Murphy."

“You have a soft spot for him."

"No I don’t."

For the first time in a long time, you saw Finn smile, "Oh my God, you have a crush on him."

Him teasing you reminded you what life was like back on the ark before everything went to shit. It made you almost forget when you were in the forest in the first place.

You shoved Finn’s arm playfully, "shut up. I just feel bad for him."

"You do like Bellamy though."

You shot Finn a look, "let’s not."

"He’s a good guy, he’d keep you safe. I’m sure of it."

"And who’s going to keep you safe from me? Because once this is all over, I have no issue raising hell if you don’t stop teasing me, Collins."

"What do we do after the dropship? Where do we go? You think the Grounders will just leave when they find out I'm gone? Is this the best way to help our friends inside Mount Weather? "

You gave him a sympathetic smile, "will figure this out."

The last thing you remember seeing is the horrified look on Finn’s face as a loud yelling came from behind you.

—

You let out a loud groan as you sat up. Looking around, you were confused. The last thing you remember was walking in the forest.

"Y/N," Clarke knelt down beside you. "Take it easy when you sit up. You got knocked out."

Of course you did.

"How’s your head?" Finn asked as he helped you stand up.

"Never been better."

"It will be another neat scar to add to your collection," Murphy shrugged.

You ignored his comment as Finn spoke to you in a hushed voice. "When you went down... I thought you were dead. Because of me."

"Finn," you say softly. "I’m right here."

"I’ve killed so many people."

You shook your head, "things that we've done to survive... they don't define us."

"What if you're wrong? What if this is who we are now?"

Not knowing what to say to comfort Finn, you pulled him in for a hug at the same time that Bellamy rushed into the drop shop. "We got company!"

"Oh fuck. We’re surrounded."

As everyone made their way to the outside of the ship, Bellmay stopped to face you. "I’m glad you're okay. You had me worried for a moment."

"Thanks. But honestly, I’m still worried."

—

"They’re not moving any closer."

"Staying out of range. Probably waiting until it's dark."

Murphy looked up at him, "If we hit them now, at least we'd take them by surprise."

You wouldn’t admit it out loud, but Murphy's idea made sense. You didn’t like it, but he did have a point. "The problem is, we don't even know how many of them are out there."

Murphy rolled his eyes, "I’m not hearing any better ideas, Daisy."

Raven stepped forward. "We’ll give them something."

Bellamy looked at her, confused. "All they want is Finn."

Raven looked away from the rest of the group, as her eyes landed on Murphy. "Finn wasn't the only one at the village."

"You can’t be serious! We aren’t handing anyone over to the grounders."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Raven, I came here to protect him. You were the one who wanted me to come." A hurt expression crossed over Murphy’s face. "You... That’s why you asked me to come along."

The brunette glared at him. "Enough Grounders saw him at the village. They’d believe he was the shooter."

"Sick bitch!" Murphy spat.

Clarke tried to calm her down. "Raven, you don't mean this."

"You know what they do to people?" you said, stepping towards her. "They want Finn, nobody else. We can’t protect him if we are fighting among ourselves.

Raven ignored what you said and pointed her gun towards Murphy. "They want a murderer, we'll give them one."

Hell no.

You shared a knowing look with Finn, before moving to step in front of Murphy. "Raven, this is insane! Put it down."

"Daisy, move out the way, I don’t want to hurt you. Murphy drop your weapon!"

"Raven, stop this before somebody gets hurt!" You yelled back at her. You knew deep down she wouldn’t actually shoot you, but you weren’t so sure about Murphy.

Ravenstill refused to lower her weapon, "I said drop it."

"Stop! Stop!" Finn pushed her hand down so the gun was no longer pointed in your direction. "We're not doing this. They’ve got us surrounded. The only thing we can do is stay. And defend this place. Murphy?"

"Yeah?"

"Go upstairs with Daisy. You two watch the rear. I'll take the lower level. You three, take the front gate. That’s the plan. All right?"

As Murphy walked ahead, you hugged Finn again, saying, "We’ve got this."

"May we meet again."

"We will." You pulled back from him, "I better go make sure nobody else tries to kill him."

"Yeah. Be careful."

—

When you joined Murphy, he glared at you. "Are you insane?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You stepped out in front of me! Raven could have shot you!"

Taken aback by his yelling, you shuffled uncomfortably. "She wasn’t going to-"

Murphy cut you off, "you don’t know that. Don’t ever do something like that for me again. Ever!"

You turned and faced the other direction, to avoid looking at him. Why was he so upset? You were only trying to keep everyone safe.

Hearing yelling, you quickly made your way towards the other side of the ship. "What’s happened?"

Bellamy looked at you with fear in his eyes. "Finn’s handed himself in."

—

You stood on the edge of Camp Jaha by the gates, squinting. Grounders were putting a large post into the ground. "What is that?"

"It’s for Finn," Clarke confirmed. "They want us to watch."

As others talked about what to do next, you noticed Clarke getting ready to leave. "What are you doing?"

"I’m gonna talk to the commander."

"Okay," you stepped beside her. "I’m going with you."

Bellamy stared at you both. "What else do you have to say?"

You sighed. "I don't know, but we need to try."

Raven stepped in front of you. "Give me your hand. If she won't let him go, kill her. Things will go crazy, and we'll grab you and Finn. Daisy, you and Clarke have to help him. I owe him my life."

Before you had a chance to say anything, Raven slipped a small knife into your hand.

—

As you and Clarke walked into the commander's tent, a grounder stepped forward and pressed a spear up against your chest.

Clarke seemed to know who the grounder was. "We are here to talk to your commander. Let us through."

Looking down, you noticed small drops of blood appearing on your top. The grounder has cut you.

"Let them pass," the commander said before looking you up and down. "You bleed for nothing. You cannot stop this."

As Clarke pleaded with Lexa to spare Finn’s life, you noticed Ada standing guard. When she noticed you walking toward her, she frowned. "You are here to beg for the traitor's life?"

"Finn’s my friend. He did an awful thing, something he can’t undo, but torturing him won’t bring anybody else back."

"He killed Zelda."

"I’m sorry…" you whispered. "It’s all my fault. He killed all those people because he thought they had taken me."

"You can’t save him, blood must have blood." Ada said harshly. "If you try to save him, all of your people will die."

Tears spilled onto your cheek. You turned to face the commander, "can I say good-bye?"

The commander paused for a moment before nodding. You were surprised that she was allowing you to talk to him, but you didn’t have time to overthink it. It was probably because of Clarke anyway. You needed to help him. You couldn’t let Finn die by the death of 1000 cuts.

You rushed towards Finn, and kissed him. "I love you, Finn, I never stopped."

"I’m scared."

You wiped tears from his cheek. "You’re gonna be ok. I won’t let you suffer." You kissed him once again, before showing him mercy. "You’re ok."

"Thanks, Daisy."

Stepping back, the only sound you could hear was your own sobs, mixed with Raven's screams, as you stared at Finn’s limp body.

Season two

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jaceyneedsabetterusername · 4 years ago

Text

Hayloft (p.2)

Pairing: Arvin Russell x F!Reader

Summary: Your dad brings home his new coworker, Arvin Russell, telling you that he’ll be living with the two of you for a while. While attempting to keep Arvin from seeing the disfunction of your relationship with your father, the two of you grow closer than you thought. (Inspired by “Hayloft” by Mother Mother, though that’ll really only be one chapter later on so I don’t know if it really counts…)

Warnings: Abuse, drunkenness, misogyny, reader’s mother is dead, decapitating a chicken, reader is kind of emotional in this chapter

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: My first slow(er) burn fic! Let me know what you think!

Part 1

_____________________

Work had passed fairly quickly as it always did when you had the opening shift. It sure sucked having to arrive at five o’clock in the morning but at least you got off earlier and you knew that that way you could grab groceries before your father got home and could yell at you about an empty kitchen again. By two o’clock in the afternoon, you were home again, hopping out of your truck and grabbing as many bags as you could in one go.

The loud sound of metal slamming against metal shook you and you flinched, looking between your door and the frame to see Arvin walking out towards you. It hadn’t occurred to you that his car was even in your driveway. After so many years of having busted broken down old cars sitting there that your dad had been swearing he’d fix for almost ten years, cars in the driveway seemed normal. “Let me give you a hand,” he offered as he got closer, lifting the canvas bags from your hands before you could object.

“Oh!” You exclaimed as you felt the weight suddenly taken off your own arms, “Thank you.” You dove back into the truck to grab the last two bags before slamming it shut with your hips. The two of you began your stroll towards the front door, the dirt driveway kicking up around your feet. “You’re back early.” You noted, looking over at Arvin.

He shrugged, “Yeah, uh, Wallace had me on the early shift today.”

You fumbled with the bags as you tried to unlock the door, kicking it open with your toes when it finally gave in. You walked into your home and Arvin followed, closing the door behind him. “Been here long? I didn’t see you in the driveway.”

“Not too long. I just didn’t want to let myself into your home without nobody there.” Arvin set the bags on the counter next to where you set yours.

You began to unpack the bags and put the groceries in the respective places. Arvin watched off to the side, unsure of how your kitchen was organized so he was worried he’d do more than good if he stepped in. “My daddy got the late shift?”

Arvin shook his head, noticing that his beat up old hat was still on his head despite being indoors and took it off immediately, his tousled brown curls parting messily down the middle. “No, we went in at the same time. He ‘n some buddies said they was goin’ to some bar in town.”

He watched your shoulders fall a little and you sighed, “Figures…. You didn’t go?”

Again, Arvin shook his head, “No. No offense to your daddy but I don’t like to drink the way I get the feelin’ he does.”

You snorted, turning to him with a knowing chuckle, “Let’s just say that I’m sorry in advance for whatever he says or does when he gets home, if he gets home. Sheriff Pike might end up callin’ in the mornin’ tellin’ us to pick him up.” Though it was stated as a joke, Arvin could hear the tragic reality behind your words.

Arvin then noticed the pack of beer bottles that you were pulling out of the bag. As if you could feel his eyes looking at you with worried curiosity, you glanced over at him, noticing the way his eyes flicked between you and the beer in your hands. You offered a sad shrug, “I know what you’re thinkin’ but trust me. Sometimes it’s better to have him drunk and possibly content than sober and angry there’s nothing to drink. Besides, the beer is better than the hard stuff with ‘im.”

“‘M sorry. I didn’t mean to be makin’ faces. Your business is your business,” Arvin backpedalled, giving you an apologetic nod.

You shook your head, “Don’t worry. I know how it looks. I’m sorry you gotta see all of it. I been tryin’ to keep to keep him calm but if you end up stayin’ a while, I’m sure you’ll get to see him at his worse times.”

Arvin chewed his lip as he contemplated whether or not to bring up what had been going through his mind but he had to make sure you were alright. “I-I heard you ‘n your dad talkin’ last night… right after you left my room.”

Your face fell as you realized what he was talking about, “You weren’t s’posed to hear that. I’m sorry.” Shit, this was what you were hoping to avoid.

“Are you alright?”

Gentle. Caring. His tone was something that had been long lost to you in this house and it took the words out of your mouth for a moment. It was embarrassing, the way your heart welled up with… well love wasn’t quite the right word but the warmth of being cared about. Not since after your mother had passed had you heard somebody actually care about how you felt.

You just nodded and gave a forced smile that you could tell was easy to see through but it was the best you could muster. For someone who was able to take so much shit from their father and was able to look the man who would throw things at you and grab you by the hair dead in the eye with nothing but contempt, it was compassion that made you crumble. It had been so unexpected, especially from Arvin, the stranger living in your house.

“Shit, ‘m sorry! I didn’t mean to - I didn’t mean to overstep. I only…” He stammered over his words and at first you were confused until you felt the single hot tear tracing its way down your cheek.

You were quick to wipe it away, shocked at your own uncharacteristic show of vulnerability. You hadn’t realized until now that you had zoned out on the ground while Arvin’s words repeated in your head but now a flash of embarrassment ran through you. “No, no, no. I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” You sniffled once before giving a small laugh of disbelief. “It’s just… It’s been a long time since anybody asked that.”

You straightened up and ran your hands through your hair, eyes closed as you thought of what else you needed to do. Thankfully, if your dad was at the bar, you had at least another four hours to just you and Arvin, all night if you were lucky, though you seldom were. That was when the feeling of dread set in. Your dad had requested chicken roast for dinner tonight and whether he came home early and only a few beers in or you had to drive him home hungover in the morning, the man would be furious if there weren’t at least reheated leftovers for him. You had to kill Patty and prep her for dinner.

“You okay?” Arvin asked again, though this time it was in reference to the way a heavy look fell over your features. It wasn’t a profound deep question like it was earlier.

Your head wavered from side to side and your lips twisted, “My daddy asked for chicken roast tonight. I gotta go out and fix Patty up.” You tried to put it lightly though it felt anything but. “I’ll be out in the coop. You’re more than welcome to clean up in the shower or do whatever you’d like ‘round the house. The radio is in the livin’ room if you wanna tune into somethin’.”

You pushed yourself off the counter and walked to the door in your kitchen that led out to the backyard but Arvin made a few steps to follow, “Is it alright if I keep you company? It don’t feel right bein’ in your house without you or your daddy here.”

You smiled at the thought of him staying with you and you nodded, continuing out the door, “Sure, c’mon.”

The hen house wasn’t very far from the back door. From there, you could see the several acres of land that your father was wasting. Your grandparents had bought this land in the late 1910’s and had started up a little farm of their own to sell locally, though your father had abandoned the farming portion after they died. It was where your daddy had grown up and then where you had as well. God, how you missed your grandparents. Your grandmother’s soft words of love and kindness but sternness and willingness to swat your butt with a wooden spoon if you got an attitude (though she would yell at your father if he ever tried to discipline you - “Now you leave that poor baby alone!”). Your grandfather had looked like a rough and angry old man from years of hard work but he had the softest heart of anyone you’d ever met. How the two of them had raised your father was beyond you.

When you approached the wired fence and jiggled the lock open, the chickens inside stood surprisingly still. They trusted you. You could see it in their little brown eyes. You were safe and warm and didn’t want to harm them. You came in for the unfertilized eggs they laid and left, oftentimes with some seed and a soft pat or two on the head. Patty, a fat white hen with black specks, walked comfortably around your feet, nuzzling her head against your leg. She was the nicest hen you’d ever had. She trusted you.

God, you were about to cry again. You bent down to pick her up and you held her against your chest, trying to look her in the eye, though it was difficult when she kept jerking it in different directions. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am,” you murmured low. Usually it was your father that would slaughter the hens if he really wanted the meat that badly. You had never done it yourself but he’d made you watch every time so that you knew how if the time ever came. Each time it made you sick to your stomach.

Already, you felt green. The unassuming hen that you had been friendly enough to for her not flip out when you held her was none the wiser that her life was about to end by your hand. You glanced over to the large wood round just ahead and the axe that was leaned up against it.

Your face contorted as you realized how much you disliked the placement. The way your father would slaughter chickens right in front of their friends made your heart break. It was barbaric.

You walked over to Arvin and held Patty out towards him, “Would you mind holdin’ onto her for a second?”

Though visibly confused, he took the chicken from your hands, drawing back when her wings fluttered out at the contact with the new strange man. Arvin watched as you walked towards the large round and tried to push it with all your might. “What’re you doin’?”

“I’m-” you grunted, feeling it slide slowly, inch by inch, “trying to move it where the other chickens can’t see.” You took another moment to use all your force against it before standing up straight and breathing heavily, “I know it sounds dumb cause they’re only chickens but it feels cruel to make ‘em watch, y’know?” You went back to pushing the round and Arvin approached behind you.

From here he could see the blood stains in the wood. It looked as if the blood had been washed off but the wood had been stained crimson regardless. There was also a divot where an axe had clearly been driven down many times over the years, chipping away at the wood.

Arvin’s heart actually warmed a little at your attempt to show mercy and your willingness to go out of your way to spare some chickens’ feelings. It wasn’t something he was sure he’d do himself but when he heard you say it, he realized you had a point. It was cruel to imprison a bunch of animals and then lead them out one by one to be slaughtered in front of everyone, each animal waiting their turn. “Here, take ‘er back. Let me.” Arvin stepped in, handing Patty back over to you and bending down to lift the round onto its side with much effort. The wood had to weigh at least a hundred pounds and had long since settled into the ground where it had been placed when you were a child.

Your eyes widened as you watched his biceps bulge, straining the material of his blue t-shirt. You’d never seen a man with muscles like that before and you found your eyes trailing along his arms, following every popping vein from the tops of his hands, up his forearms, and onto his biceps until they disappeared beneath his shirt. It was something you hadn’t expected to see in him. Arvin looked like a quiet, polite, hardworking young man but you never would have imagined the immaculate muscles he possessed. You found your mind wandering to what other surprises laid in store beneath all those layers he wo-

You needed to calm yourself down. If only he could hear your thoughts, he surely would be furious and disgusted with you. You hadn’t had such impure thoughts since that one time you had been messing around with Jimmy Bates in the backseat of his old car back in your senior year of high school. The two of you didn’t even go all the way but you went far enough and the guilt ate you alive since the two of you were never officially together anyways. He was just the cute boy from high school that you had pined over years that had finally given you the chance right before he shipped off to join the war.

“This alright?” Arvin asked, shaking you from your fantasy, and you snapped back into reality to realize he had rolled the wood round around the side of the coop behind the wooden wall, outside of the other chickens’ views.

You nodded and walked over to him, “That’s perfect. Thank you so much for doin’ that. I know it’s sorta stupid.”

Arvin shook his head, putting his hands on his hips, “If it means somethin’ to you, it ain’t stupid at all. Besides, now that you pointed it out, it was a little barbaric.”

You smiled up at him, one which he returned. How was this boy so damn nice? Was this some cosmic way of the universe finally giving you something good in your life? You’d become so calloused to your father’s harsh words and barked commands that you had forgotten how nice it was to feel cared about and validated. And you barely knew him.

“‘M glad you think so.” You looked down at Patty in your arms and any good feelings you’d had melted to sadness and fear. “You been a good girl, Patty. I know you struggled with layin’ eggs for a while but you were always a good girl. Never bit me once unlike some of them other hens.” You weren’t often very soft and vulnerable but you were about to take something’s life for the first time and you couldn’t help but feel the weight of that on your heart. If this were a life or death situation, you would feel better about it, but it wasn’t. The only reason Patty had to die was because your father would throw a fit if she didn’t.

You carried her to the log and gave her a little kiss on the top of the head, “Please don’t hate me but I understand if you do. Say hi to my momma for me, will you? Tell her I love and miss her.” You set her down and got her in the position you always saw your dad put the other chickens in before he chopped their heads off. Arvin handed you the axe with uncertainty but watched on as you struggled to bring yourself to finish the deed.

You held her down and you could tell by the way she was flailing that she was panicking now. Patty was well aware of what was happening. “I’m sorry!” You choked, tears welling up in your eyes as her panic began to turn into your own panic. How did people do this? Why was this so freaking difficult?

Tossing the axe slightly in your hand, you readjusted the handle and just as you went to swing, Arvin piped up, “I can do it.”

You looked over at him, the afternoon sun reflecting the tears in your eyes and making the color of your irises stand out in tragic beauty. “I-I- Would you really not mind?” You breathed out in relief.

Arvin stepped forward and you handed the axe out to him, “I don’t mind.” You held onto Patty until Arvin could position her just right as well. He had no idea what he was doing - he’d never had to slaughter a chicken before. He had heard that all you had to do was cut their head off though and then he’d heard the rumors of them running around like crazy even after their head hit the ground. How hard could it be?

Once he had the hen pinned down where he wanted her, he looked up to see you chewing on your thumb, brows knitted in discomfort. It wasn’t the first chicken you’d watched get slaughtered but it was far from something you enjoyed observing. Arvin signaled to you with a nod before raising the axe above his head and you shut your eyes tight, flinching at the sound of the old metal head thudding into the old wood.

You had the carcass sitting in the sink while you pulled off the blood soaked feathers, depositing them into the trash bin by the handful. This part was easier for you, something you’d done many times in the past. “Thank you for doin’ that. I’m sorry I’m such a baby.”

Arvin sat at the kitchen table behind you, “You ain’t a baby just cause you don’t like to kill things. I’d say it’s probably rather normal.”

The time was inching closer to four o’clock now and the sun was beginning to hang ever so slightly lower in the sky, the precursor to sunset. It was warm outside and a cool spring breeze blew in through the open window above the sink. You snickered as you pulled another handful of feathers out, “Yeah? That mean you ain’t normal?” You looked over at him with a playful glint in your eye but your smile fell when you saw an uncomfortable look cross his face, almost like he’d seen a ghost.

“I ain’t never said I liked killin’ either.” Arvin attempted to match your joking tone but it was pretty evident there was a weight behind his words.

“Hey, I‘m sorry. I was only jokin’.” A pang of guilt washed over you but it was only that. A joke. You hadn’t imagined teasing him over something like killing a chicken would set him off, especially since he volunteered to do it for you, but apparently you were wrong.

Arvin sniffed and scratched his nose, “I know.” After a moment of awkward silence, he stood, “Let me give you a hand. What do you need done?”

You scanned his face once more to make sure he was really okay but you decided to drop it when you saw his insistent look. You shook your head, “I got it. It ain’t much after I get this all gutted and cleaned.” You picked up the mostly featherless carcass by the wings and plopped it back down into the sink.

“Well ‘m sure there’s vegetables or somethin’ else that goes with it, right? Let me start cuttin’ those up.” His persistence was adorable, making your heart flutter in the most wonderful way. The idea of a man actually being helpful was unknown to you before Arvin. Your life had been filled with your dad’s drunken bossings since you were twelve years old. You couldn’t remember the last time a genuinely kind voice offered you anything more than a smile on the street, not that you took that for granted. Arvin was just different though. Noble and helpful and kind.

“You really don’t have to-”

“Yeah, you keep sayin’ that but I really do want to help. So what can I do to make things easier on you?” He took a few steps closer to you until you felt the beginning of what could have been sparks if he stepped any nearer, like when you hold two magnets a few inches apart and you can feel the energy between them, that hint of attraction, but it’s not quite close enough to pull them together.

The blush in your cheeks at his simple gesture made you break the eye contact with a nervous laugh of retreat, “Okay, fine. If you’re gonna be so insistent,” you drew out with a teasing drawl, “you can cut up veggies. There’s potatoes over there and carrots and zucchini in the fridge.”

Arvin’s lips turned up in a small smile when you finally resigned your stubborn ways and he went off to find the vegetables where you had directed him.

Needless to say, when your father came home from the bar to find you and Arvin talking over a song by the Platters playing on the radio with Arvin cleaning up the dishes while you tossed together the vegetables and the seasoning, he was less than pleased.

“What the hell is going on here?” His slurred speech made your eyes widen in fear. He was supposed to get home later like he always did. But then you found yourself chiding your irresponsibility. Why the hell would you take that chance? You knew better than to let Arvin help out and now you were gonna pay.

Arvin sensed the way you tensed up beside him and watched as you spun around to face your father with haste, “Just finishin’ up dinner now. Should be ready by six so you got more than enough time to take a sho-”

“Why the fuck is he doin’ the dishes?” You father was leaning against the wall, clearly relying on the structure for support. This wasn’t the time to test him, not with Arvin here. It was times like this when he’d start throwing stuff at you.

Before you could say anything, Arvin piped up firmly but respectfully, “I offered, sir. It’s no problem at all.”

Your dad pointed at Arvin, “A man ain’t got no place with his hands in a sink of dishes. You leave that shit to her and she’ll just grab you a beer.” He stumbled over his own feet before catching himself ungracefully.

Arvin’s jaw set tightly and you gripped the countertop with white knuckles behind you. Times like this, you weren’t even sure what to say anymore. No amount of standing up for yourself got you anywhere with him. You never made any headway with your dad’s sexist views on gender roles. It was pointless. The only thing to do was try and work your way to supporting yourself so you could get the hell out of dodge and never look back.

Arvin’s voice surprised you, “A man’s place is helpin’ out the women in his life when they need, not leavin’ ‘em to do all the housework themselves.” You nearly choked on your own tongue at his words. It was a bold statement for a man to make, especially to the head of the house that was being so gracious as to host him free of charge, but he didn’t back down. It appeared like the jab was lost on your drunken father but Arvin continued with a slightly less accusatory comment to diffuse the situation regardless, “I grew up helpin’ my grandma with all the house chores so I really don’t mind at all.”

You watched the way your dad eyed Arvin and then you before scoffing and grumbling incoherently as he shuffled his way into the living room. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. “I don’t want you gettin’ kicked out ‘cause of me. You didn’t have to say nothin’.”

Arvin glared at where your father had disappeared and nodded, “Yeah, I did. You don’t deserve all the shit he gives you.”

You suddenly found yourself avoiding his eyes and twisting your lips. He was right and you were well aware of that fact. The abuse your dad put you through was uncalled for at best. The fact that Arvin had actually taken the time to not only notice the same fact but acknowledge it and stand up for you was something you never thought you’d hear someone do. It made you uncomfortable. You’d been fighting this battle by yourself for so long that letting somebody even know it was being waged was enough to make you want to sink away. Even so, a part of you wanted to let Arvin keep standing up for you. It made you feel weak after having to stand up for yourself for so long but also validated.

Your eyes flicked up to meet his for only a moment before turning back towards dinner that sat in a roasting pan on the stove, “Thank you.”

______

Taglist:

@thisisparadisemylove

@justapurrcat

#arvin russel imagine #arvin russell x you #Arvin Russell #arvin rus #arvin russell x reader #arvin russel #arvin russel x reader #arvin russel x y/n #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #The Devil All The Time #tdatt #tdatt imagine #tdatt fics #Hayloft

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candychronicles · 4 years ago

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bodyguard // s. todoroki

A/N: my take on the rockstar/band/performer au for bnharem! i’m not a big fan of au’s normally but this one was a lot of fun to write! todoroki is definitely ooc in this one but i took a lot of liberties with his character in order to better fit the au storyline.

CHARACTER PAIRING: Todoroki Shouto x F!Reader

WORD COUNT: 5,091

WARNINGS: mentions of blood, gore, fighting, death, oral sex (f!receiving)

SYNOPSIS: you were in it for the money, he was an unhinged popstar. how could you two ever possibly get along?

want to read more rocking stories? click HERE !

the days at work were tiring, the nights even longer, but the pay was good and it was always satisfying to make a grown man cry as you knocked him to his knees and manhandled him away from your client.

Todoroki Shouto, one of the elite, the famed, the rich, and absolutely fucking annoying. sure, he was hot (anyone with an eye could see that) but he was just like everyone else in his industry: a cocky bastard. you didn’t mind his lifestyle too much except when it interfered with his job, like having to pry off whiny people who clung to him like their life depended on it, and for some, it probably did.

his biggest claim to fame was being in a now wildly famous band, namely the main singer. he was charming with a sultry voice and a personality that oozed confidence but he wasn’t always that way. in fact, he was originally a shy, anxiety ridden teen when he first joined, not sure how to use his voice or deal with people coming up to him in the streets. the life he lived was sheltered before that, training under his dad to take over the family business, but when sweet, innocent Todoroki confessed that he much rather be artsy and sing at the age of sixteen, things quickly changed for him. his father, Todoroki Enji, tried to convince him otherwise, told him that he didn’t know how the real world worked and that he would never be successful, but Shouto wouldn’t budge and eventually Enji caved in, or so it seemed.

Enji immediately enrolled Shouto in lessons, instructing him to shape up or ship out. if he couldn’t become successful in the industry, he would take over his father’s business instead, but that didn’t happen. Shouto excelled in lessons, blowing his instructors away with his timbre and control. he was a natural, and frankly, good enough to be a star. they weren’t so concerned with his stoic yet endearing personality. they had broken enough pop stars, molded them to be perfect model citizens, so what was one more?

the plan backfired immensely. as Shouto’s talent grew, Enji seeked out the biggest in the game, convincing them to give his son a chance at stardom. while reluctant, the board agreed, not wanting to piss off one of the most powerful men in Japan but were thoroughly surprised at the fact that his kid didn’t suck at all. in fact, he was actually good, really, really good.

they signed him immediately, whisking him away into the life of fame and fortune at the young age of seventeen. his range, the slight rasp to his tone and the ability to reach into somebody's soul and pluck the very feelings they try to hide so deeply from it’s depths pushed him towards the life of a rockstar. the freedom he had never been able to experience living at home pushed him over the edge and spiraled him out of control.

Todoroki drank, smoked, and fucked his way through cities big and small, getting himself into a lot of trouble along the way. the behavior went on for years, only getting worse as time went on. nobody seemed to be able to get control over the boy with the pretty hair and wild scar. after almost killing several women and one of his bandmates in a drunk driving accident, his team, label, and most importantly his father had enough.

the conversation between the two did not go well. Shouto was now an adult, legally free and clear from his father’s power. he had his own money, enough to live comfortably for awhile, even if he dropped the band, and all of the repressed rage, longing and anger that was pent up from his childhood. he was not stopping his lifestyle for anyone. that was, until you came along.

you were always a scrapper, getting yourself in trouble more times than you could count. it was just in your nature to defend those who couldn’t defend themselves and you spent many days on the playground beating up the bullies who picked on the sweet girl braiding flowers into her hair, or the boy who liked to play with baby dolls instead of trucks.

as you got older, your fights got fewer and farther in between, at least when it came to the public.

when you turned sixteen and kicked some kid who was trying to look up your skirt so hard in the chin that he saw stars, you were approached by a few men who slid you a card and told you if you wanted to make money fighting, come meet them.

you were a dumb kid and instead of running in the opposite direction and telling the police, you showed up at the seemingly dingy door behind the alley of a fairly run down ramen restaurant. knocking on the door and rocking back on your heels, you waited to see what would happen. it took a few seconds before a panel slid open, allowing you to see nothing but someone’s eyes peering at you in the mid-afternoon sun. hesitantly, you raised the business card in your hand, showing it to the person and jumping in surprise as the panel slammed shut and the door creaked open, inviting you in.

you nodded your head politely at who you realized was a rather bulky, burly man, before a woman dressed in a silky black dress plucked the card delicately from your hand and led you through the hallway. when she opened the door, you were taken aback by the scene.

people of all shapes and sizes stood cheering as two rather muscular men fought in an arena across the room. spit and blood flew across the floor as the two pummeled each other over and over again before one tapped out, the other man raising his fist in the air in victory. you stood, gaze fixed on the scene in front of you, blood racing at the thought of you being in the ring.

“addicting, isn’t it?” the woman whispered in your ear, a knowing smile on her face before she gently took you by the sleeve and guided you away from the screams and shouts into a private room that was much quieter.

you sat down in front of a man who was rather tall and thin, graying hair across his head and a clean shaven face.

“so, i heard you’re a good fighter. how good do you think you are?”

“uh-” you stuttered, not sure how to respond, “i think i can kick someone’s ass if i have a reason to.”

“is money a good enough reason for you?”

“money is a nice reward, yeah, yeah it is,” you confirmed, not pondering the question over for a second.

“good, you start on Saturday. come in comfy clothes that you won’t mind getting sweaty and dirty in. you’re my new ace, a secret weapon. give it six months time and you’ll be defeating guys like that out there in seconds.”

and defeat you did. over and over again, men, women, anyone who thought they were better than you were defeated by your own fists. you worked hard and then some, through literal sweat, blood and tears, to reach the status of champion of the underworld by the age of eighteen.

you were a wild card, unpredictable in your stature. you didn’t have hulking muscles and a sturdy frame, but what you did have was speed, the element of surprise, and the ability to calculate in a split second, all of which allowed you to defeat your enemies time and time again. this relative victory didn’t come without your share of sacrifices: hiding the bruises, blackened eyes and bloody lips from your family as you trained relentlessly, having to figure out a way to manage the steady flow of income that started coming your way as you fought in your first official matches, defeat after defeat as you trained, chipping a tooth and having it promptly filled in like nothing happened, having to learn how to disarm and fire a gun, work with knives and most importantly, losing a bit of your empathy along the way.

it came as no surprise when people who were much more powerful and much, much richer started taking an interest in you, placing large bets upon your head at some of the higher staked matches, a feat you worked your way up to after many years. you never failed to disappoint, knowing that these fights were the ones that mattered the most, the ones that brought you, and your boss, the biggest pools of money.

it was at one of these fights on a dreary, rainy night that you met Todoroki Enji, a hulking man that failed to intimidate you. you were used to people his size and bigger thinking he could take advantage of someone like you and it only made you chuckle thinking of how easy it would be to have him on his knees in seconds.

“i’ve made a proposal to your boss that he couldn’t refuse. he said he couldn’t and wouldn’t force you to do anything, but since you’re quite motivated by money, i think you’ll be intrigued by my offer,” he started, sitting down next to you in one of the VIP booths, sliding his business card on the table with a sly smile.

you were interested and entertained him, listening to him ramble about his shitty kid and his bad behavior. amused, you sipped on your drink as you absorbed his rants and whines about the negative reputation his kid was creating for himself, how he abused his freedom and power to the fullest extent and how his life was spiraling out of control.

“what does this have to do with me, exactly?” you finally questioned, setting your drink down and turning to face him, eyes met squarely with his own.

“i’d like to hire you to be his personal bodyguard.”

“sounds like he needs a babysitter, not a bodyguard,” you retorted, getting ready to stand up and move away from this blathering idiot.

when he spit out a number so outrageous, however, you sat back down, now thoroughly intrigued by the situation at hand. satisfied that he had your full attention, he went into details, laying down a fairly thin stack of papers in front of you as you listened to every detail.

“so let me get this straight. i’m to be his personal bodyguard, keep his shitty behavior a little more under control, whip him up into shape sort of situation. that’s it? and i’ll get paid that much for being a glorified babysitter?”

“you will have to protect him, of course. there are some crazy fans out there that climb windows, seduce themselves into his bed, stalk him, chase him down, but i don’t think it’s anything that, with your expertise, you can’t handle.”

you continued to ponder the situation before gesturing him to continue with his story. he rambled for another moment or two before picking up the papers and going over them with you: standard non-disclosure agreements, a detailed list of your job description and a contract agreement that he was subleasing you through your boss.

after a few minutes of reading the contracts over and discussing them with your boss, you agreed to the scenario, locking yourself into what would be a rather entertaining six months.

the first time you met Todoroki, he instantly tried to hit on you, but when his hand lowered down to grab your ass, you had him on his knees with his left hand behind his back before he could even blink. after that encounter, your conversations were curt. he knew what you were here for and he wasn’t about to let you get his way.

what he wasn’t expecting was for you to be so relaxed about the whole situation. he still drank, still partied, fucked almost whatever girl or guy he wanted, but anytime things got too out of hand, you stepped in, firm but gentle, guiding the crying groupies out of his bedroom after their time was over, driving him every time he got too drunk, cutting him off from any supplies when he was getting out of hand and most importantly, keeping him safe during his travels.

he never realized how much danger he was always in until you mitigated the problems with ease. he just assumed that being assaulted on the daily was something that came with being in the public until you broke some robbers finger when they tried to swipe the wallet out of his own back pocket. after that, he almost clung to you like a koala on a tree anytime he was out in public. you provided stability in a time where he was drowning in his own worries.

that didn’t mean he was ever nice to you though. in reality, he was actually sometimes meaner to you, the simple fact that some girl could be stronger than him set him off, always feeling on edge around you. you weren’t necessarily quiet, offering up any and all small bits and pieces about yourself that he ever wanted to know, but he never really knew you: not your last name, where you were from, if you had any siblings, parents, where you went to school, what your job was, who you were on the inside. it bugged him like crazy to know what your favorite color was and that you liked cheese on your ramen but not anything important, anything he wanted to know.

you liked to keep it that way, however, and would stay as friendly yet aloof as possible. this was a job to you, a job that would set you up easy for awhile and gave you a break from fighting for the most part. you wouldn’t admit to yourself that you liked the man more than you would’ve expected. you felt the way he clung to you as fans swarmed him, the way he always looked to you in reassurance as you walked the streets at night, hearing his sobs in the shower, sobs that were so broken and confused. it showed to you a side of him that was vulnerable, that showed emotion.

he broke down towards the end of your stay, realizing a little too late how much easier it was for you to do your job when he was cooperative and nice. in fact, he began to be more open about enjoying your company and spending time with you. it made it harder for you to continue with your job knowing you were falling for the pretty rich boy, for the man you were hired to protect, for the man who looked at you like you could do no wrong but vehemently would deny it. you began enjoying the little moments with him, the stolen glances, the laughing. you didn’t know what changed in him but you were glad he was someone you could get along with. underneath that crazy exterior, he was just a guy who wanted a friend.

your six months came up relatively quickly. it sucked that your cushy job living in five star hotels, eating decadent meals and working out in state of the art facilities would be over soon but you felt yourself getting lazy, weak and losing your rather sharp edge. it was time to get back into the grind and despite your heart panging at the fact that you would leave the pretty boy with the angry and sad heart behind, you were ready to go.

your last night of work consisted of the final show in Tokyo. tens of thousands of guests were set to attend what would be the bands biggest concert ever. you were calm, cool and collected as always, but the singer, not so much.

he spent the day pacing back and forth, warming up his vocals, hydrating himself, stretching and generally doing his best to calm his nerves.

in a rare act of affection, you reached out to grab your hand with his own, looking him dead in the eye and telling him that this night would be one he would remember forever; and you were right, just not for the way either of you thought.

the show went amazing, the crowd loud and receptive, the choreography flawless, the singing perfect. Todoroki ran off stage with the biggest smile he had ever seen and in his own rare display of affection, twirled you around with ease, adrenaline still pumping through his system.

you congratulated him on the great show and waited patiently for him to remove all the makeup and his costume. he emerged a little while later, hair flat against his head, wet from the shower, sweatpants and an inconspicuous gray hoodie donning his body. you bid a pleasant farewell to his bandmates before escorting him back to the car. he had requested that you drive him back to the hotel and spend one final night in the comfortable hotel beds before you headed back to your hometown.

when you arrived, however, things felt quiet, a little too quiet, and the hair stood up on the back of your neck.

“Shouto, you need to get into the driver’s seat right now, turn on the car and lock it. do not let me in until i tell you to. do not get out of the car, okay?”

he began to question you but before he had a chance to argue, you were pushing him out of the way as a knife sliced towards him, figures cloaked in black emerging from the shadows.

one, two, three, four.

you counted out the four assailants as you shoved Shouto against the car, prompting him to unlock and scramble in through the back seat. only when you heard the click of the lock did you breathe a sigh of relief and begin your attack.

the first man with the knife was tall and lanky, using his height to his advantage, trying to overwhelm you, but with a quick kick to the back of his kneecaps, he went tumbling onto his knees. now shorter than you, you were able to control him by grabbing onto the top of his head and slamming it into the ground, effectively knocking him out.

one, two, three.

the next man thought his muscles would save the day, but his size lacked any true speed, and you were able to land fingers to his eyes, a punch square to his nose. a quick chokehold and he was knocked out against the concrete as well.

one, two.

they both came at once, knives flailing in the air as they sliced your way. one managed to gouge out a chunk of flesh in your arm but you paid no mind, too focused on the task at hand as you grabbed the knife with your hand and used the other arm to knock into their elbow, making them loosen their grip enough to let go of the blade that you then embedded into their shoulder. the other assailant took your distraction to swing the knife your way and as you were trying to dodge the serrated edge, used their other fist to swing up into your chin. you felt your teeth chatter against each other, blood mixing with saliva as you bit your tongue. spitting, you slammed your hand down against their wrist, grabbing the knife with your hand and yanking, not caring that it sliced into your palm as you flipped the weapon around to shove it into their abdomen.

with both men distracted, you slammed your fist against the car door, telling Shouto to quickly unlock it so you could get in. when you heard the telltale click, you instantly dove into the backseat, yelling at him to lock it and drive as fast as he could back to the hotel. he did as he was told with an eerie calmness to him, backing out and around the attackers that were attempting to survey the damage that had been dealt to them.

once you had made the relatively quick trip back to the hotel, you hurriedly jumped out of the car, telling Shouto to carry his own bags so you could be on alert if anything were to happen, scanning each and every corner for a possible other attack. thankfully, everything was safe as you made your way into his hotel room.

you dropped him off quietly, not even attempting to walk into his room, but only fifteen minutes had passed before he was knocking on your door, a first aid kit he had gotten from the front desk securely tucked under his arm.

you let him in without a word, locking the door behind you and turning to face him. before you had a chance to ask what he was doing there, he had dragged you into your rather grandiose bathroom, sitting you on the steps leading up to the jacuzzi tub and pulling out the contents of the kit onto the floor.

he began by assessing the damage to your wounds, cleaning and disinfecting them before wrapping both your hand and arm rather efficiently.

“i had to wrap a lot of my own wounds as well as my siblings. dear old dad let the temper get the best of him sometimes and it wasn’t always so pretty,” he explained, teeth clenching together in an attempt to remain calm.

“thanks for this. i’m sure they’ll heal just fine,” you replied, not wanting to put him in a situation where he had to talk about his troubling past.

“you could’ve died protecting me today, you know?”

“that’s my job Todoroki. i was hired to protect you, i protected you, and i’m fine, thank you very much. this is not my first fight and it definitely won’t be my last.”

he sighed, rubbing his temples as he sat down on the marble floor in front of you, holding your wounded hand in his own, tracing the fabric that surrounded your palm.

“i recognized one of the cars in the parking lot. it was a company car, one of my dad’s cars to be precise. i know they can seem relatively inconspicuous but i memorized every car my dad ever had, big or small. it was definitely his car.”

you mulled over his words for a moment before sighing yourself, slumping against the stairs as your head rested against the rim of the tub.

“your dad sent those men, huh? that’s why you were so eerily calm driving away. you knew you weren’t really in any danger, that those men were secretly there to kill me,” you finally concluded, anger boiling deep within the pit of your stomach.

“yeah, i think they were. i don’t think dad is too fond of the fact that you and i got close. i-i like you a lot more than i let on, i’ve told him so. i thought that would make him happy, knowing i have someone in my life that i could rely on and trust, but he didn’t like the fact that he couldn’t control you after these six months were up, think he wanted to teach me a lesson.”

“wouldn’t be the first time i’ve had a hit out on my head. this one, however, is probably going to be a lot tricker to deal with.”

Shouto sunk deeper into himself, body shaking with rage as he saw the fight flash in his head over and over again.

“i’m going to protect you. if you want to, that is. i’ll sign you on as my own bodyguard, however much money you want. i’ll be by your side always, make sure that nobody tries to kill you, tries to hurt you like that again.”

“i can fend for myself Todoroki.”

“it’s Shouto. and why won’t you let anyone else take care of you? listen, i know i’ve been kind of an ass but i thought we were at least friends, and yet i know nothing about you. i know your favorite color, your favorite animal, that you like sunsets and the rain and snuggling under comfy sheets at the end of the day, that your eyes sparkle when you get a chance to fight but secretly crave peace and comfort, but i don’t know who you are. your name, your story, why you’re really here.”

you heaved as you sat back up, staring him straight in the eye to find no malice, no anger, only confusion, empathy and maybe even a bit of longing. so you told him, you told him everything: who you were, what you were, where you grew up, about your childhood dog and all the scraps you had as a kid, how two strange men in suits approached you and groomed you to fight at the age of sixteen, how it was the only thing you knew how to do, the only thing you were good at, how you scared yourself sometimes because you enjoyed the pain that came with the fights. he sat there watching, eyes wide and unblinking as he absorbed every word you said, every bit of pain and anxiety, of longing for someone to love and understand you, of not having to fight all the time, of wanting to be vulnerable for once.

“let me take care of you,” he declared, standing up and outstretching his hand towards you, helping you up from the cool tile, hand coming to rest behind your head once you had steadied yourself.

he leaned forward, unsure and hesitant, before placing his lips against your own, soft and gentle, tasting of mint chapstick and coffee. you were unsure of yourself, awkward, full of aches and pains, wanting so badly to let go but never wanting to get hurt.

“it’s okay, you’re safe with me. let me take care of you, please.”

that was all it took for you to open up, looping your arms around his neck as he led you back to the bedroom, careful to not run you into anything. your knees hit the back of the bed and you reflexively tensed up, like a deer in headlights.

he shushed you, rubbing his hands up and down your arms, heeding the bandage and wound underneath. you laid back after that, body attempting to relax as his hands ran themselves soothingly over your body, across your breasts, the flesh of your stomach, your thighs, the corded muscles in your calves, slipping your shoes off, your socks, kissing every inch of your body along the way, making sure you were comfortable. you shimmied out of your pants, your tight shirt, bra, underwear, finally bare for him to see, scars, bruises, all the imperfections of your life.

“so, so beautiful,” he murmured, taking his time to kiss every single blemish and scar that you had, wanting you to feel his dedication.

after what felt like hours of soft kisses, his thumb came to rest on your clit, rubbing in quick and precise circles, fingers gently parting your folds to press into your body, back arching at the feeling of him already.

“it’s all about you tonight, okay? just relax, let me show you how much i appreciate you.”

and appreciate you he did. he dropped to his knees, nose nuzzling into your pubic bone as he kitten licked your clit once, twice, three times, testing your reaction. you whined and squirmed at the feeling, already overwhelmed by his fingers lazily dragging in and out of you. you wanted, needed more, but Todoroki wouldn’t hear any of that. you deserved to be treated right, treated gently tonight, to allow your worries to melt away, if only for a few moments.

his fingers began picking up pace, pistoning in and out of you, his fingers curling in all the right spots, fists clenched into the downy comforter as you attempted to ground yourself from the overwhelming situation. his tongue worked against your clit, changing speed and pressure, trying to find what was the right combination to set you off, watching your every move intently as you squirmed around on the bed. before he even got a chance to get into a routine, you were already cumming over his fingers, creamy liquid coating the digits.

he hummed in contentment, pulling his fingers out to lick up the syrup, you watching with your pupils blown wide.

you went to sit up, body aching from the adrenaline of the fight, but he pushed you back down into the plush bed, tutting as he settled his head against your thigh, kissing, sucking and biting along the plump flesh, leaving little marks only he would know about.

his tongue began lapping at your clit again, this time harsher, more in tune with what your body wanted. you clenched your legs around his head, fisting his hair with your good hand as you tried to ground yourself yet again to reality. his velvety tongue felt like heaven against your body, coaxing moans and sighs out of your mouth. you felt your second orgasm hit you like a freight truck, tingles running up your spine. you tried to push his head away but he only held your body down, a frighteningly feral look on his face as he continued to lap against your clit, unrelenting in his pursuit to pull orgasm after orgasm from you.

after, two, three, four more highs, you couldn’t tell where one began and one ended, he was finally satisfied, pulling his face away, chin glistening in the dim light. your eyes were teary and red, overwhelmed by everything he had put you through. you had never been more satisfied in your life, and by the look on Shouto’s face, he knew it too.

your eyelids began to droop and your body relaxed into the mattress as you came back down into reality. Shouto shuffled around the room before settling you into your bed, tucking the sheets around your body and propping your head against your pillow.

he was enamored by your, by your story, how you opened up so willingly to him after tonight. nothing would get in between you two now. he was just starting to truly know you, know the real you, and nothing was going to stop him from wooing you until you were his, not even his father., and if her life was ever threatened again by him, well, Shouto would just have to kill Todoroki Enji.

#todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki #shouto todoroki #bnha x reader #mha x reader #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha #bnha #bnharem collab

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disgruntledspacedad · 4 years ago

Text

Aftershocks (1/5)

The Better Love Series

A sequel to The Rules of Engagement

pairing: Javier Peña x Fem!Reader (Ears). Part of the Better Love ‘verse.

summary: That bomb fucked you up a little more than you thought. h/c, fluff.

words: 1.5k

warnings: 18+ - canon typical violence, angst, hospital stuff. This one is mild for me.

a/n: unbeta’d. Gif by @javier-pena, banner by @cassandras-nest, title card by yours truly.Takes place hours after ROE leaves off. This won’t make a lot of sense unless you’ve read Rules first.

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

MASTERLIST

A deep, throbbing ache in your back drags you back to the land of the living.

Ugh.

You rub the crust from your eyes and wiggle your toes with the awkward effort that comes from heavy sleep. It’s late afternoon, the sun sinking low in the sky, falling in gentle patches over the crumpled comforter. Reality comes back to you in slow, muzzy chunks.

You’re lying in Peña’s bed. He’d ridden you hard, then tucked you in afterward, snuggled comfortably beside you while you’d drifted off.

The lazy smile dies on your lips as you remember just why Javier Peña had felt the need to throw you against the wall and fuck you like there was no tomorrow.

Your apartment. A blazing fireball. Smoke and ash and rubble. Emilio’s broken body.

You choke back a sob.

Javi.

Your chest throbs as you remember how he’d looked at you, eyes shining and desperate.

“I thought I’d lost you.”

How he’d held you close, tucking you gently under his chin as if you were the most precious thing in the world. Wild sex in the hallway, gentle sex in his bed. Snuggling up together afterward. His soft confession, “I’m all in, Ears, if that’s okay with you.”

Your brain spins dizzily in an attempt to process it all. Despite all of the pain, fear, drama, and uncertainty of the past 12 hours, you can’t help feeling a profound sense of relief. Sure, you’ve lost everything you’ve ever owned, but at least you have Javi.

That thought still boggles your mind.

You roll over, kicking your feet to untangle them from the sheets. Javi’s side of the bed is long cold. Sighing, you haul yourself up on your elbow, surprised when you have to catch your breath to do so.

God, you’re more sore than you thought you’d be.

Your heart races as you stand, and you press your hand to your breast bone, feeling a little woozy. Gray spots swim in your vision, and you blink hard, forcing them away. You hadn’t realized you’d stood up so fast.

Slowly, you patter naked into the hallway, following the sound of Javi’s voice. He’s in the kitchen with his back turned to you, speaking lowly into the telephone. He’s still shirtless.

You crack a grin at the memory.

Now that you’re standing up, you’re starting to feel a little more stable. Thoughts are still fuzzy and distant, and your pulse thrums skittish in your ears, but at least you’re not going to pass out. Your chest feels weird, though, like your lungs have been scraped raw, and taking a deep breath sets something throbbing deep in your back. Your head aches like a bitch, too.

Fuck Pablo Escobar and his fucking bombs.

You snatch Javi’s green shirt off the kitchen counter, still lying half-folded where you’d dropped it this morning. Javi raises his brows at you, and you shoot him a wink as you slip into it. He’s still on the phone, talking to Messina, you think, but his eyes follow you darkly as you make your way to his bathroom in search of some pain medicine.

Climbing onto the toilet to peruse through Javi’s bathroom cabinet feels like more effort than it really ought to be. Again, your heart speeds, and you double over, suddenly panting for air.

A minute or so later, Javi finds you sitting on the toilet lid with your head in your hands.

“Hey,” he says, pausing as he notices your position. He drops to his knees in front of you, taking your hands in his. “What’s wrong?” His voice is laced with concern.

You look up at him. He’s all dark eyes and somber expression, watching you warily with a deeply furrowed brow. “Just a little dizzy,” you admit, hating to see him worry over you. “I was looking for a tylenol. My back is killing me.”

Javi blinks, as if the thought of keeping medicine in a medicine cabinet has never occurred to him.

“I can find you something,” he says, and somehow, you just know that means he’ll be sneaking across the landing to borrow from Connie’s stash. “But baby, are you sure I don’t need to take you to the hospital? You look a little pale.”

“I’m sure, Javi,” you answer firmly. The thought of getting dressed and leaving the apartment is absolutely abhorrent right now - you are still bone weary. You decide to offer him a compromise. “If it really bothers you, I’ll see somebody tomorrow after work.”

Javi shakes his head. “You’re not going in tomorrow, babe,” he says slowly. “I already talked to Stechner.” There’s a little bit of hesitation in his tone, like he’s wary of how you’ll react. “Once word got around about the bomb, everybody was looking for you. I didn’t mean to butt in, but I really didn’t want to wake you, either.” He reaches up to rub the back of his neck, almost apologetically.

In a different situation, you think you might be annoyed by his interference. But Javi is staring at you with those solemn, worried eyes, one errant curl falling across his brow, and you find that any frustration you feel is buried deep beneath exhaustion and maybe even a little gratitude. “Guess I’ll let it slide,” you tell him, cracking a small smile. “This time.”

He answers you with a tiny breath of relief and a quirk of his lips. “Good.” One long thumb massages your knuckles absently. “He’s put you on leave for the rest of the week. Says get some rest and maybe some therapy, and he’ll see you on Monday to talk logistics.”

You snort. “Asshole.”

Javi’s expression is a little darker as he agrees. “So,” he says, leaning back on his heels to pin you with an intense stare. “Doctor tomorrow?”

“Doctor tomorrow,” you promise, allowing him to pull you to your feet. “Tylenol now.”

“Bossy,” he complains, reaching up to stroke your cheek like he just can’t help touching you at every opportunity.

“Assertive,” you’re quick to correct, swallowing back a shiver. All of this soft, sweet caressing is very new.

Javi grins, a gentle, fond expression that crinkles his eyes and makes him look years younger. “Have I mentioned how good you look in my shirt?” he murmurs, meeting your lips for a slow, deep kiss that steals your breath. One hand roams up to gently cup your breast.

“You don’t have to,” you answer smugly, catching that wandering hand in a firm grip. Your heart is racing again, but for all of the wrong reasons. “Now, go raid Murphy’s medicine cabinet for me, please.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he laughs, shaking his head at the fact that you know him so well.

That woozy feeling redoubles just as soon as Javi shuts the door behind him. You bite your lip, counting back the hours since you’ve had anything to drink besides coffee. Even that had been a long time ago. Probably you’re just dehydrated.

You make your way to the kitchen, feeling numb and detached as you shuffle through the cabinets. Javi has a startling lack of normal drink wear, but you manage to find a nice set of crystal tumblers lurking above the sink.

Typical.

Again, climbing requires an alarming amount of effort, and something uncoils painfully in your chest as you reach over your head for a glass. You flinch, and three of the tumblers go flying, shattering on the floor with a horrendous crash.

Startled and off-balanced, you stumble to your hands and knees, heedless of the glass shards that are digging into your bare skin. Your vision is graying at the edges again, and you can’t fucking breathe.

“What the fuck?” Javi’s voice is hard as he slams open the front door. “Babe?”

“Sorry,” you wheeze with the very last of the air that’s left in your lungs. Panic sets in, your body responding to the acute lack of oxygen in the only way it knows how. “I was -”

Speaking sets you coughing, and suddenly, you’re coughing so hard that you can’t stop, great, wrenching spasms that send pain racketing through your entire body.

Javi drops the bottle of pills he’s holding. They rattle against the floor. “Ridiculous woman,” he grits between clenched teeth, reaching down to haul you to his chest. You know he doesn’t mean it. “You are not fine.”

You press your fingers to your lips, one last rasping cough ripping its way out of your throat. When you pull them away, they are covered in tiny spots of blood.

Javi freezes as he sees it. “Jesus Christ.”

Your teeth are chattering, your entire body shaking. “I’m -”

“Goddammit, if you tell me you’re fine one more fucking time, Ears,” Javi growls, allowing the threat to trail off.

You shake your head. “I’m not,” you manage. Everything hurts, and words are difficult right now. Your throat is raw, and you still don’t have enough air. “I’m sorry. I was, but now I’m not.”

“Come on,” Javi’s voice is terse, worried. You have the foresight to grab his sweats from the counter before he sweeps you off your feet. “We’re going to the hospital. Now.”

♠

notes/confessions:

I promise, promise, promise, this is going to turn into fluff. Please don’t kill me!

Originally, Aftershocks was going to be a huge one-shot, but nah. I thought I’d try smaller chapters for once (read: chaotic jay cannot plan shit to save her life).

Let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from my tags!

Tags: @jedi-mando, @perropascal, @aerolanya, @pikemoreno, @bitchin-beskar, @mostly-megan, @huliabitch, @starsandmando, @starlight-starwrites, @thirstworldproblemss, @knittingqueen13, @yespolkadotkitty

Javier Peña tags: @magpie-to-the-morning, @tiffdawg, @danniburgh

#javier peña #Javier Peña x reader #Javier Peña x you #narcos #pedro pascal #narcos netflix #pedro fanficiton #pedro pascal fanfiction #narcos fanfiction #Javier Peña fanfiction #javier peña fanfic #better love #aftershocks

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