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worth-the-chaos · 4 months

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Adventures in Babysitting - Steve Harrington x female!reader - Chapter 9

Chapter Summary: Held captive by the Russians, tensions rise and as you and Steve attempt to navigate communicating in a drugged up haze, your feelings for each other become even more apparent.

Content Warning: swearing, violence, needles, mention of drugs

Word Count: 7.4k

Author’s Note: This chapter is a little bit longer and I hope it makes up for me posting it a little late! A lot of it sticks to the original plot of the show, but there are some important moments between you and Steve that I hope y’all enjoy ;)

Message me to be added to the taglist to be updated when the next chapter is posted!

Series Masterlist | Chapter 8 | Next Part

***

“I don’t understand, you’ve seen this before?” Robin asked as the five of you quickly descended the stair case, leaving the machine still thrumming with electricity behind you.

“Not exactly,” you replied.

“Then what exactly?” Robin pushed the question.

“All you need to know is that it’s bad,” Dustin responded, not really having the time to explain the intricacies of an alternate dimension full of monsters and unimaginable horrors.

“It’s really bad,” Steve chimed in, emphasizing Dustin’s words.

“Like, end-of-the-human-race-as-we-know-it kind of bad,” You reiterated the severity of the issue at hand. Your heart was beating wildly in your chest as you considered the possibility of facing the demogorgons again. You weren’t sure you could stomach it.

“And you know about this how?” Robin asked, but before you could respond, Erica spoke up, reminding you of the other, less supernatural problem at hand.

“Uh, Steve, where’s your Russian friend?” She asked, as you all simultaneously realized that the Russian soldier Steve had knocked unconscious was missing, a blood stain on the floor being all that was left. An alarm began blaring, reminding you of Hawkins Lab as you darted to the door, cracking it open to look out into the bustling hub of activity from before.

There, you saw the Russian that Steve had knocked unconscious huddled in a group of other soldiers, doubled over in pain with his hands gripping his head. The other soldiers looked up, making eye contact with you as they started sprinting towards the comms room.

“Shit! Go! Go! Go!” You exclaimed pulling the door shut, shoving the kids in front of you to hurry them along.

“Move! Let’s move!” Steve shouted, you darted through any and every open door you could find, ending up in the control room for the machine that you had viewed from the outside earlier. A bunch of Russians in lab coats muttered things you didn’t understand as you fled past them, exiting down onto the metal stairwell towards the terrifying looking machine.

“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit!” Dustin screamed as you reached a dead end. Your heart nearly stopped as you saw the Russian soldiers gaining on you, before Steve yanked your arm, redirecting you down more stairs as he shouted.

“This way!” He shoved a man in a hazmat suit, pulling you along behind him. He pushed over a stack of barrels to knock three other soldiers out of the way, giving the rest of you a chance to keep running. You all entered another room, Steve pushing the door shut behind him.

Erica and Dustin ran towards the vents while you, Robin, and Steve pushed with all your strength to keep the door closed as more and more guards showed up attempting to force it open.

“Come on!” Dustin yelled at the three of you, but you didn’t budge.

“Go! Just get out of here!” You screamed, desperate for the kids to be as far away as possible from this whole mess.

“Come on! Please!” Dustin screamed back, but Steve cut off any further pleas.

“No! Just go get some help, okay?!” When Dustin hesitated Steve shouted back, “what are you doing?! Go!”

“I won’t forget you!”

“Go!” The three of you shouted in unison as the young boy disappeared into the duct system. No sooner had he disappeared did the door give way, all of you falling to the floor as several Russian soldiers stormed the room, guns at the ready.

You raised your trembling hands, breathing shakily as you looked over at Steve. He looked just as terrified as you felt. One of the soldiers grabbed you roughly by the arm, yanking you up from the floor.

“Let go of me, you bastard!” You shrieked, trying to break free from his grasp, but to no avail. As two other guards grabbed Robin and Steve, another soldier slapped you across the face, displeased with your disobedience. Your lip, already injured from the elevator plummeting, split back open, blood beginning to trickle down your chin. The soldier that slapped you took a finger, running it across your mouth and roughly grabbing your chin, a sharp contrast to how Steve had gently wiped away your blood earlier.

“I’d watch that pretty mouth if I were you,” he seethed in his thick Russian accent, leaning in uncomfortably close towards you. “If you don’t, we have many other ways to keep you silent.”

“Don’t fucking touch her!” Steve shouted, trying to free himself from the guards that were restraining his hands behind his back. The soldier that had slapped you looked at Steve amused, before unholstering his gun. You heard the distinctive click, knowing it was cocked and ready, as you felt the cool metal of its barrel press against your temple. Your breath caught in your throat and a tear slipped down your cheek as you squeezed your eyes shut, bracing for everything to be over.

“Don’t make her seem like more trouble than she’s worth,” the guard warned. Steve froze, terrified as a lump formed in his throat.

“Please, man. Just put the gun down. We’ll do anything,” he begged. The guard lowered his gun, and you let out the breath you’d been holding as a sob tore through your chest. A look of realization flashed across the soldier’s face as he barked orders to the other soldiers surrounding you. Suddenly, you and Steve were pulled in one direction while Robin was pulled in another.

“Steve! Y/n!” Robin shouted, fighting against the soldiers pulling her away.

“Robin! Let her go!” You cried out, yelling at the Russian men around you. You continued to fight against their grasp, until you took a blow to the side of the head, the last thing you heard being Steve’s shouts before the world went dark.

***

Steve sat on a bench with his hands tied in front of him and you were on a heap on the floor across from him, your hands similarly bounded as you laid there unconscious. Two soldiers had been beating him senselessly for the last half hour, interrogating him repeatedly. Every time they didn’t like one of his answers, a physical blow came, whether it be a jab to the stomach or a punch across his face.

One of the soldiers struck him across his the jaw as he groaned, and spit out blood. “That one stung.”

“Who do you work for?” The Russian soldier asked him. By the appearance of his uniform, he clearly outranked the other soldiers you had encountered.

“For the millionth time, I work at Scoops Ahoy!” Steve cried out, but the captain just nodded at the other soldier, who swiftly landed a blow to Steve’s ribs. He doubled over in pain. “What the hell?! Look at my outfit! You think I just wear this?! Think I’m a spy in a sailor’s uniform?”

The captain nodded at the soldier, looking back at you, and the soldier moved to your unconscious body on the floor, dragging you under your arms to the center of the room. With the movement, you started to come too, but clearly still extremely out of it, not quite able to understand what was going on.

“How did you get in here?”

“Please, please—whatever you do—just leave her out of this. Don’t hurt her,” Steve begged. The soldier sat you up and your head lolled to the side. Your eyes fluttered open and your heart leapt to your throat as you were met with the sight of the Russian soldiers. The reality of the situation was sinking in, but you were too exhausted to fight back.

“Steve?” You asked eyes darting around the room until they landed on him. His face was bruised and battered, his eye swollen shut and he had a nasty gash down his chin.

Suddenly you felt a deep pain in your ribs as the soldier beside you swiftly kicked you. You doubled over, crying out in pain.

“How did you get in?” The captain repeated himself.

“I already told you. I told you before. My delivery didn’t come, my friends and I thought it was left at the loading dock, so we went into the room and it turned into an elevator and then…and then we dropped and then next thing you know I open my eyes and we’re in this…wonderful facility,” Steve chose his words carefully, hoping to appeal to the soldiers’ ego.

Clearly this wasn’t an acceptable answer as the soldier punched you across the face again, clearly understanding that the best way to get to Steve was through torturing you. Your ears were ringing, and you felt blood dripping down the side of your face, the skin above your eyebrow split open. You struggled to keep your head up, and your voice was quiet but desperate as you choked out a small “Steve.”

“I-I…I swear to god, nobody knows about us, nobody saw us, you could just let us go alright? I’m not going to tell anybody about this—she’s not going to tell anybody about this—okay? Shit happens life goes on! And…and, uh…ice cream! You guys know what ice cream is, everybody loves ice cream! I don’t know if you have Russian ice cream or if that’s considered gelato, I don’t know what’s what, but whatever you guys want, just please, let us go,” Steve rambled on.

“Steve, shut up,” you grumbled, your eyes closed, still too weak to force them open.

Suddenly the captain broke out into a laugh, and you could hear Steve laughing nervously along with him. “I like this guy!” He exclaimed through his laughter but quickly stopped, leaning in towards Steve, “who do you work for?”

When Steve couldn’t provide a new answer, the soldier threw another punch to your face, and blood began rushing from your nose. You groaned, but it was cut off as the soldier placed a hand around your throat, restricting your ability to breathe. A tear slipped from your eye as you gasped for air. The captain walked towards you, and you felt fear creep up in your chest as you decided that this man was a psychopath. He reached a hand up and wiped your tear away, slowly dragging the back of his hand down the side of your face.

“Hey! Hey! Just leave her alone! Stop fucking touching her; she didn’t do anything wrong! If you want to hit someone, hit me,” Steve yelled. He watched as your eyes continued to flutter, finally rolling back in your head as you stopped struggling, your body going limp as you went unconscious again.

“Gladly,” the captain responded, punching Steve so hard across the face that he too lost consciousness. The Russian soldiers dragged the two of you to a different room, tossing your unconscious bodies on the floor.

Through a different door, two soldiers appeared dragging Robin who was fighting against them. She clearly hadn’t been tortured like the two of you were, but they threw her on the floor next to you guys.

“Y/n? Steve? Guys, wake up!” She frantically shook your shoulders, to no avail. She saw how battered and bruised the two of you were and couldn’t help but feel guilty that she hadn’t been given the same treatment. “What did you do to them? What did you do?!” She shouted at one of the guards, who in turn backslapped her across the face. She fell to the ground groaning in pain.

The guards pulled the three of you up, tying you in place in desk chairs, back to back. The guard grabbed you by the hair pulling your head back to inspect the injuries on your face.

“Don’t touch her!” Robin seethed. He let go and your head lolled back forward.

“It looks like your friends need a doctor. Good thing,” he said leaning in close to her face, “we have the very best.”

He laughed and Robin spit in his face, which twisted quickly into a scowl. “You are going to regret that, little bitch,” he promised her, but she continued to look at him with her chin up. The guards went to leave and Robin’s yelling allowed you to finally come to.

“Let us out of here, bastards! Let us out!”

“Robin?” You croaked. “Where am I?” Your head was throbbing and you were confused, the last thing you could remember was Dustin and Erica slipping away into the air ducts and the Russians bursting through the door.

“Y/n! Thank god! Are you okay?”

“I-I…I don’t think so,” you choked out. You could feel blood caked on the side of your face. You still couldn’t quite open your eyes, and you tried to move your arms but something was pinning them to your sides. “Where’s Steve?”

“We’re all tied together. Steve? Steve?” She asked, but the boy was still unconscious. You whimpered, your body exhausted and aching, tears slipping down your face, creating streaks as they washed away some of the dried blood.

“We’re gonna die down here.”

“No, y/n. No we’re not, but we need help, okay? Help!” Robin began calling out as you continued to cry. Once you started, you couldn’t stop, everything from the last twenty-four hours hitting you at once.

“Hey, would you stop yelling?” Steve grumbled as he finally began to wake up.

“Steve! Oh my god! Steve—are…are you okay?” Robin asked as she threw her head back, shifting around in her chair attempting to look at the boy. Her movement pulled on the binds that tied you together and you groaned.

“My ears are ringing, and I can barely breathe, and my eye feels like it’s about to pop out of my skull, but…you know, apart from that I’m doing pretty good,” Steve replied, his sense of humor somehow still intact.

“Steve,” your voice called out, still small and raspy.

“Y/n! Are you alright? Please tell me you’re okay,” he immediately tried to turn to you in his chair, and both of you groaned again at the sudden movement. Your heads both throbbed.

“I mean, not really. I’m pretty sure my ribs are broken…among other things, you know?”

“Y/n, oh my god—I-I’m…I’m so sorry! I’m gonna fucking kill him I swear,” some of the strength returned to his voice as he said it, his tone laced with determination and rage.

“It doesn’t really make a difference you know? Whether or not you beat the shit out of him, we’ve still got broken ribs.”

“Well, the good news is, they’re calling you guys a doctor!” Robin spoke up, a smile flashing across her face.

“Is this…is this his place of work?” Steve asked, jokingly.

“Yeah, I love the vibe,” you continued, your head rolling forward. You were too tired to keep holding it up.

“Hey, you see that table over there? The one with the scissors?” you turned your head as far as you could, catching just a glimpse of the table she was talking about. Your neck was aching, bruised from the rough hands that had choked you earlier. “I think if we move at the same time, we could get over there and maybe I could kick the table and knock them into your lap.”

“And I could cut the binds,” Steve finished her thought.

“Yeah, and then we could get out of here!”

“Gotcha. Okay, yeah, we could do that. Those morons, they left scissors in here?” you asked with a hopeful laugh.

“Yeah, those morons,” Robin agreed, smile plastered to her face.

“Total morons,” Steve emphasized.

“Alright, on the count of three, we’re gonna hop,” Robin said. You took a deep breath that rattled in your lungs as you psyched yourself up. “Three…two…one!”

You all hopped and the cluster of chairs move about six inches across the floor. Robin counted down again, and you all moved another eight inches.

“Holy shit! This is going to work!” You exclaimed. Robin counted down and you hopped once more, but Steve’s feet moved slightly late, leading to you all toppling over. You all groaned as you hit the ground hard. Your ears were ringing and your vision blurred, everything sounding fuzzy as you attempted to stay conscious after yet another blow to your head. When the ringing finally cleared, you could hear Robin laughing.

“I’m so sorry,” she breathed out, her laughing starting to die down, “I just…I can’t believe I’m gonna die in a secret Russian base with Steve “the Hair” Harrington. It’s just too trippy, man.”

She chuckled again, and you couldn’t help but agree with the sentiment. “We’re not gonna die, okay? We’re gonna get out of here. Just—you gotta let me just think for a second,” you heard Steve’s voice add to the mix. He sounded desperate and your heart ached for him. You wished your hands weren’t bound so you could reach for his.

You wanted to let him know that everything was going to be okay, but as time continued to pass, you weren’t so sure that was true anymore. Maybe this was the encounter with the abnormal that would kill you. Maybe you weren’t meant to return from this.

“Do you remember, um, Mrs. Click’s sophomore history class?” Robin suddenly spoke up.

“What?” Steve asked, shaking his head, confused as to why this was important.

“Mrs. Clickity-Clackity. That’s what us band dweebs called her. It was first period, Tuesdays and Thursdays, so you were always late. And you always had the same breakfast—bacon, egg, and cheese on a sesame bagel. I sat behind you twice a week for a year. Mister Funny. Mr. Cool. The King of Hawkins High himself. Do you even remember me from that class?” She asked, her voice getting small.

When Steve didn’t answer, she continued. “Of course you don’t. You were a real asshole, you know that?”

“Yeah, I know,” Steve’s voice was small as well. You thought back to the things you’d said to him in the hallway earlier. About his response. About you never believing he had the capacity to change. You felt guilty while you sat and listened to Robin call him out for his past. You knew he had changed. You knew he was better, and what you had said was out of line. Robin’s words helped you to realize this and your eyes began to well with tears again.

“But it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that you were an ass because I was still…obsessed with you. Even though all of us losers pretend to be above it all, we still just want to be popular….accepted, normal.”

Your heart sank in your chest at her words. Is she interested in him? Suddenly you felt nauseous, as you thought back to the fact that you had basically ruined any chance for you and Steve to be together. Now that you had thrown it all away, would he go to her? Would the kisses he reserved for lazy mornings before work pepper her skin instead of yours?

“If it makes you feel any better, having those things isn’t all that great. Seriously. It just baffles me—everything that people tell you is important, everything that people say you should care about—it’s all just…bullshit,” Steve replied. He thought back to your words and the way they had stung. There had been truth to them though, but not for the reasons you had thought.

You were right. Steve hadn’t paid attention to you before you almost died in Jonathan Byers’ living room. But that was exactly why he wanted to change. Spending that evening with you—watching the way you cared so vehemently about the people around you, putting your own wellbeing aside—he realized that you were the type of person he wanted to be. He wanted to care the way that you did. He wanted to be there for you the way that you were always there for others. And yeah, he was guilty of losing sight of that while he tried and failed to make things work with Nancy, and that was on him. But he was trying—really trying—to make it up to you.

His mind flashed to how you had referred to yourself as “just another one of his girls,” and his heart sank in his chest again. He didn’t know how to tell you that you were so much more than that.

“But I guess you gotta mess up to figure things out, right?” He finished, closing his eyes as he said it, wishing he could erase the mistakes he’d made but deciding to give himself the grace to forgive himself for them and move on.

“I hope so,” you spoke up. You were glad you couldn’t face each other as tears continued to slip down your cheeks, but you fought to keep your voice even as you said it. “I feel like my whole life has been one big error,” you chuckled, and you heard the familiar sound of Steve’s laugh beside you. You felt your cheeks heat up, proud that you had made the boy laugh.

“At least it can’t get any more messed up than this,” Robin laughed, and you joined in, even though deep down you knew that it could always, absolutely get worse.

“You know, I wish I would’ve known you in Click’s class,” Steve spoke up, “really, I do. Maybe you could’ve helped me pass the class. Maybe instead of being here, I’d be on my way to college right now.”

Your heart broke again as he said it. You could see the writing on the wall and knew how this was going to end. Steve wouldn’t be yours anymore—hell, after what you had said to him, you doubted he even wanted to be friends with you. You wished you could just rewind time and take back the things that you had said. You wished you hadn’t spoken in anger.

Suddenly a buzzer sounded, and you could hear footsteps enter the room. You watched as the captain from before approached, chuckling before asking “where were you three going?”

Two Russian soldiers grabbed your binds, tugging roughly as they righted your chairs. You faced a man in a lab jacket. He held up a vial with a blue liquid in it, shaking it up and tapping the side as it cleared.

The captain leaned in towards Steve and the boy’s breathing quickened. He wished he could just reach out to grab your hand; to hold you so that he wouldn’t fall apart.

“Try telling the truth this time…It will make your visit with Dr. Zharkov less painful,” he warned with a sickening grin on his face. Steve winced as the captain pushed at one of the open wounds on his face, the pressure causing the skin to break further as fresh blood began to trickle down his chin. Dr. Zharkov, you presumed, turned around, a menacing looking instrument in his hand, loaded with the blue vial you saw him holding earlier. It had a long sharp needle on the end, and you watched as the bright fluorescents glinted off of the shiny metal.

“Wait a second, wait—hold on! Okay, wait, wait, wait! What is that thing?!” Steve yelled out as he started to writhe in his chair, fighting against the binds. You whimpered, Steve’s fear sparking terror in your chest as you began to hyperventilate.

“It’ll help you talk,” the doctor said before plunging the needle into Steve’s neck. He screamed in pain and you squeezed your eyes shut. You felt a stabbing pain in your neck as a needle sank into your skin, feeling pressure build up as the blue liquid entered your body. You yelped as your vision suddenly blurred, your eyes unable to make out anything in front of you as you began to feel increasingly dizzy.

The doctor’s form came back into your line of sight, and you could only make out the general shape of him. He sounded far away as he spoke up.

“Don’t worry, it’ll all be over soon.”

***

The Russians had left the room and twenty minutes had passed. The initial dizziness began to wear off and you felt completely normal…well, other than the massive head injury and the cuts and bruises littering your skin.

“Honestly, I don’t really feel anything,” Steve finally spoke up.

“Me neither,” you and Robin replied in unison.

“I-I...I feel kinda…good,” you added, a chuckle escaping your lips. Where had that come from?

You weren’t alone, however, as Robin and Steve began cackling right alongside you. “Wanna know a secret? I like it too!” Robin giggled.

“Morons, they messed up the drug!” Steve laughed. You snorted, causing Robin and Steve to both laugh even harder. “Y/n, I just love it when you laugh like that,” Steve added. If you weren’t so busy laughing so hard, you may have flushed, but you barely heard his words as the three of you continued to hoot and holler about how moronic the Russians that had been holding you hostage were.

“There’s definitely something wrong with us,” you gasped out, your mind finding a moment of clarity in all the fuzzy, buzzed up mess.

“Somethin’s wrong,” Steve concurred, his laughing subsiding a bit as well.

You heard the door click open and the captain and Dr. Zharkov returned to the room. You felt your heart race, afraid of what was about to happen. The doctor began pulling out different medical instruments, and you felt your palms start to sweat.

“Let’s try this again. Who do you work for?” The captain asked.

Steve chuckled, his eyes staring blankly ahead as he answered, “Scoops. Scoops Ahoy.”

All three of you giggled while the captain scowled. “How did you find us?”

“Totally by accident,” you spoke up, snorting once more as you threw your head back to continue laughing. Suddenly, the doctor picked up a tool, moving over to you.

“What is that shiny little toy?” Steve laughed. However, when you started whimpering his demeanor swiftly shifted.

“Woah, woah, woah! Wait, please wait!” You cried out.

“Don’t fucking touch her!” Steve shouted, fighting against the binds once more. The doctor gripped your fingernail with the tool, beginning to pull as you started to yelp in pain.

“There was a code! We heard a code!” Robin yelled out. The doctor moved around her chair to look at her as the doctor let go of your hand. He looked at her expectantly and she continued. “The week is long, the silver cat feeds when blue meets yellow in the west, blah, blah, blah. You broadcast that stupid spy shit all over town, and we picked it up on our Cerebro, and we cracked it in a day. A day! You think you’re so smart, but a few kids who scoop ice cream for a living cracked your code in a day and now people know you’re here,” Robin spat at the Russian man in front of her.

“Who knows?”

“Well, Dustin knows. Yeah, Dustin Henderson,” Steve spoke up.

“Steve!” You shouted, far from laughing now. Whatever was in that fucking serum was potent, and you couldn’t believe that Steve could just endanger your kid like that.

“This is your small curly-haired friend, no?”

“Oh, curly hair. Great hair, kind of a ‘fro. Yeah, that’s him. And he’s long gone you big asshole,” Steve laughed, “and he’s probably calling Hopper, and Hopper’s calling the US cavalry. They’re gonna come in here, commando-style, guns a-blazin’, and kick your sorry asses back to Russia. You’re gonna be two pieces of toast.”

Steve continued to laugh as the Russian captain fumed, leaning in closer to the boy. “Is that so?” He asked pointedly.

“Well, yeah!” Steve chuckled. Suddenly an alarm began to blare and Steve gave the Russian a look that said “I told you so” as the captain left, leaving the three of you and the doctor in the small room. Suddenly the other door burst open and Dustin Henderson himself ran in, shocking the Russian doctor with some sort of taser. “Hey! Henderson! I was just talking about you!” Steve laughed.

“Get ready to run,” Dustin warned, releasing your binds. You were glad to have the pressure off of your arms as you quickly stood, wobbling on unsteady feet, as Steve grabbed your shoulders, equally unsteady himself.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ve got you,” he giggled and you couldn’t help but laugh in return as you leaned into his chest. Steve’s hands gripped into your hips and he swayed with you, planting a small kiss to your forehead.

“Guys, stop flirting with each other and go!” Dustin yelled, shoving Steve as Erica pulled Robin by the wrist, guiding her out the door. Steve’s hand interlocked with yours as you both stumbled out into the hallway onto the transport vehicle that Dustin had stolen. The three of you piled into the back, drugged out of your minds as Erica and Dustin got in the front, Dustin peeling off down the hallway.

“Slow down!” Steve yelled out, an arm reaching out across your chest protectively, keeping you from jolting forward as Dustin took a sharp turn.

“Yeah, what is this? The Indy 500?” You slurred out, glaring at the boy who was definitely too young to be driving you all.

“It’s 300,” Steve corrected you.

“No, asshole, it’s 500!”

“It’s 300!” Steve bickered, continuing to argue with you.

“Let’s say, one million,” Robin proposed causing all of you to cackle in the backseat. Suddenly, Dustin careened into a stack of barrels and you groaned as all of you slid forward in the back, your inertia carrying you until you hit the metal walls of the vehicle. The door opened, and Dustin gestured for you all to get out.

“Come on! We’ve gotta go!”

You all piled onto the elevator, Dustin swiping the keycard and pressing a button before it began to ascend. Steve grabbed you gently, making sure you were steady as you both laughed giddily.

“Look at this!” Robin shouted out, pushing a red metal cart your way. You gasped, quickly stepping up onto it, your arms flailing behind you as you tried to gain your balance. Steve got up behind you, wrapping his hands around you from behind, as he laughed into your ear. “It looks like you’re surfing!”

“They seem drunk, why would they seem drunk?” Erica asked Dustin, looking at the three of you with furrowed brows, confused by your demeanor. You guys had been the hard asses this whole time, so uptight about every little thing and now you were all acting like complete jack asses, a complete shift on the spectrum of assholery.

Robin pulled the cart, causing you and Steve to tumble off. You fell across his chest, straddling him as he grabbed your hips and looked up at you. “Hey,” he breathed out, his eyes darting across your face and taking in the sight of you on top of him. Granted, he imagined you on top of him like this a bit…differently, but he didn’t complain as you smiled down at him.

You rolled off of him, lying next to him as you felt Dustin’s hand across your head.

“She’s burning up,” he told Erica as you shoved his hand away. He turned to Steve, checking his eyes. “And his pupils are super dilated.”

“Maybe he’s drugged?”

Dustin turned, patting Steve on the side of the face to get him to refocus, “Steve, are you drugged?”

“How many times, Dad? I don’t do drugs. It’s only marijuana,” Steve slurred, reaching up and poking at Dustin’s face while laughing. Dustin pushed his hands away, rolling his eyes.

“This isn’t funny, okay? I need to know exactly what they did to you.” When nobody’s words really answered his question, Dustin attempted to redirect the conversation, focusing on you this time. “Okay, they’re going to be looking for us up there, y/n, so I need to know where Steve parked his car.” He was hoping that you—being his babysitter and all—would maybe, just maybe, be a little more alert to help him.

“But…but I don’t have a car?”

Good god you guys were gone.

“Uh oh,” Steve mumbled.

“‘Uh oh’ what, Steve?” Erica questioned, a hand on her hip.

“The car’s off the board. They took the keys, the Russians, they took the keys. Like forever ago,” Steve began laughing and you and Robin chimed in.

“That’s a bummer, right?” You smiled up at Dustin and he really just wanted to scream.

It really—really—was a great, big bummer.

***

Dustin and Erica had led you into a movie, Steve sat in between you and Robin. They told you not to go anywhere and you grumbled as you turned towards Steve, attempting to pay attention to the film that you had missed the first twenty minutes of.

“Steve, what’s happening?” you whispered.

“I don’t know, baby,” he whispered back, placing an arm around you and pulling you towards him. You happily obliged as you leaned into his shoulder and he laughed.

After sitting like that for a while, you looked up at him through your thick lashes. Even though his face was battered and bruised, you couldn’t help but swoon at how attractive he was. Deep down, despite being drugged, you remembered your argument, but you used your inebriation as an excuse to forget about it as you turned and placed a gentle kiss to his arm. He removed his arm from around your shoulder and you sat back up, your breath catching in your throat as he stared deeply into your bloodshot eyes.

Slowly, he moved in, placing a gentle hand at the nape of your neck as he leaned towards you and peppered gentle kisses down your neck, sucking on your tender skin. Your throat was still bruised from the way the Russian soldier had choked you earlier, but the pain subsided as Steve’s soft lips explored the expanse of your neck, kissing it better.

Steve suddenly stopped as Robin elbowed him in his already bruised and broken ribs, groaning as she whisper-shouted at the two of you. “You guys are so gross. Get a room, geez.”

“Are you guys thirsty?” You whispered back, eyes darting between the two of them. They both nodded and you swiftly left the theater, no longer caring about the film. You took a long drink at the fountain first, before stumbling to the side to let Steve take a drink.

“So like, I wasn’t totally focused in there or anything, but…I’m pretty sure…that mom wanted to bang her son,” Robin spoke up, staring at you both wide eyed.

“Wait, wait, the hot chick was Alex P. Keaton’s mom? But they’re the same age” Steve asked, going back to drinking water as he waited on a response.

“No, but he went back in time,” you slurred, answering his question.

“Then why is it called Back to the Future?”

“Because he has to go back to the future because he’s in the past. So the future is actually his present,” you explained, looking at Steve. He looked up, and you almost thought you saw realization flash across his face before his brow furrowed and he turned back towards you.

“Wh-what?”

“It’s my turn, you’ve had enough!” Robin shoved him from the drinking fountain and he moved to stand by you.

“Hey,” Steve said, putting his hands on your hips again. He didn’t know what it was about what the Russians had injected him with, but all he really wanted to do was hold onto you.

“Hey,” you breathed out, looking up at him. You felt an aching in your chest, remembering the way that you had fought and you wanted to make things right. “I’m sorry,” you choked out, your eyes welling with tears again.

“What are you sorry for?” Steve’s brow furrowed as he said it, his eyes searching your face. Seeing you upset was enough for him to sober up a little bit. You didn’t respond, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath that rattled through your lungs. “Hey, hey, hey, look at me,” Steve begged, his gentle hand moving under your chin to guide your gaze towards him, “what’s wrong?”

“I just…I just don’t want to lose you.”

It was a sentiment that you had reiterated time and time again. A sentiment which felt a lot different now that you weren’t both curled up in the comfort of Steve’s bed. Different now that the two of you stared into each other’s eyes, battered and broken and drugged.

“Y/n, you’re not gonna lose me,” Steve emphasized, “I’m right here and despite everyone’s best efforts, I’m not going anywhere. I mean it.”

“But you don’t know what’s going to happen,” you reminded him, hiccuping through your words. “Steve, they hit me so hard that I was afraid I wasn’t going to wake up...and I know they hit you harder,” you cried.

“I’m tough! I can handle it y/n, believe me. Some Russian asshole is not gonna be what takes me out—especially not after we’ve dealt with those freaky motherfuckers from the Upside Down,” Steve assured you, and you broke out into a watery laugh, wiping at the tears that slipped down your face as Steve pulled you into his chest. He hugged you tightly, placing his chin on your head as he rocked you back and forth, attempting to sooth you.

“Woah!” You heard Robin’s voice ring out, and you stepped away from Steve. “You gotta check this out.”

She was staring up above her at the lights that littered the ceiling of Starcourt Mall. The lights blurred and stretched in your vision, and though it was just a result of your drugged up haze, you had to admit, it was quite a sight to behold.

It actually became too much of a sight to be capable of beholding as you felt dizzier and dizzier. You felt nauseous as the three of you darted to the bathroom, vomiting what remained of the drug in your system.

Once you were done, you moved to Robin’s stall, holding her hair out of her face and rubbing circles on her back to comfort her. Maybe you should have been comforting Steve, but you decided he was capable enough to figure his own shit out. He was the party king after all; he’d experienced a hangover or two.

You both laid down on the disgusting bathroom floor after she had finished, and a minute later, you heard the toilet in Steve’s stall flush.

“The ceiling stopped spinning for me. Is it still spinning for you?” Robin finally spoke up.

“You know what…no,” you replied with a chuckle.

“Do you think we puked it all up?” Steve asked.

“Maybe? Ask me a question…interrogate me,” Robin replied in a Russian accent and you all laughed.

“Okay, uh, when was the last time you…I don’t know, peed your pants?” You asked.

“Today,” Robin replied, and you hit her in the shoulder.

“No way!”

“Yeah, when the Russian doctor took out the bone saw…but it was just a little bit!” She defended herself as you cackled. “Alright, my turn,” she continued, “Steve, have you…ever been in love?” The question she settled on was calculated, hoping that he would just speak up and tell you how he felt.

“I mean, if you would have asked me a year ago, I would’ve said totally. Nancy Wheeler…but now I’m not so sure, you know,” he started and your heart sank a little. “Ever since Dustin got home from camp, he’s been telling me ‘you’ve gotta find your Suzie, you’ve gotta fine your Suzie,’” Steve explained.

“Who’s Suzie?” Robin asked, her brow furrowed in confusion as the two of you sat up.

“It’s some girl from camp, I guess his girlfriend. To be honest with you, I’m not even 100% sure she’s even real,” Steve chuckled, “but that’s not—that’s not really the point. The point is, there is this girl that I like, and I didn’t really pay her much attention in school. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because Tommy H would’ve made fun of me…or I wouldn’t be…prom king? I don’t know, it’s stupid. Dustin’s right, it’s all just a bunch of bullshit anyway. Because when I think about it, I should’ve been hanging out with this girl the whole time. She’s smart and she’s funny—I mean, I’ve never laughed as much as I have when she’s around—and…and she really knows how to swing a golf club, even though I’m pretty damn sure she’s never played before.”

Your ears perked up as you realized he was talking about you. After the conversation him and Robin had about Mrs. Click’s class, you thought that maybe he was talking about her. You felt your heart jump to your throat as he continued.

“And she’s super strong. Like, I don’t know anyone else who would fight like hell the way she does. I mean, it’s insane, really; she should give herself a break, let other people do the fighting every once in a while. That brings me to my next point which is that she’s a total control freak,” Steve laughed and Robin nudged you in the side as she smiled down at you. Your eyes were welling with tears as he continued.

“I guess I should be grateful for it because she really helped me get my shit together, but you know, I’m still learning. And she’s patient too. I would’ve dropped my ass by now if I was her, but she sticks by me, which I guess I haven’t been as grateful for as I should’ve, but I’m gonna change, I promise,” Steve added, sliding under the bathroom stall, his hand reaching out to you, pinky extended. You laughed a wet laugh as you ignored his stupid finger, wrapping your arms around his neck. He gripped you tightly, as if it was the last time he’d ever get to hold you. He wouldn’t take you for granted again. “What about you Robin? You ever been in love?” Steve asked as you pulled away, sitting back to look at her again. Suddenly her face dropped, the smile that had been sitting on it disappearing as her brow furrowed.

“Robin, are you okay?” You asked, grabbing her hand.

She took a deep breath before she spoke up, “do you remember me talking about Click’s class? About me being jealous and, like, obsessed?”

A look of realization flashed across Steve’s face as he spoke up, “Robin, I’m sorry, I—“

She cut him off, “just let me finish…it isn’t because I had a crush on you. It’s because…she wouldn’t stop staring at you.”

“Who?” Steve asked, but you were already starting to catch on, your hand squeezing hers as she worked up the courage to speak.

“Tammy Thompson. I wanted her to look at me. But...she couldn’t peel her eyes away from you and your stupid hair. And I didn’t understand it because you would get bagel crumbs all over the floor, and you asked dumb questions, and you were a douchebag! And—and you didn’t even like her…and I would go home…and just scream into my pillow.”

“But…Tammy Thompson’s a girl?” Steve asked, a confused look on his face.

“Steve,” Robin breathed out. His furrowed brow relaxed as he finally realized what she had been trying to say.

“Oh,” he said softly, “holy shit…I mean yeah, Tammy Thompson, she’s cute and all…but she’s a total dud.”

You stared at him incredulously while Robin responded, “no she’s not!”

“Yes, she is! She like wants to be a singer in Nashville or some shit like that!”

“She has dreams!” You chimed in, fighting on Robin’s behalf.

“She can’t even hold a tune! She’s practically tone deaf, have you heard her? She sounds like a Muppet!” Steve said and began singing off key, mocking the poor girl.

Robin laughed, “she does not sound like that!”

“Yes she does! That’s a great impersonation of her! She sounds like a Muppet giving birth!” Steve emphasized.

“I know, I know,” Robin finally admitted cackling.

Suddenly the three of you were just singing like Kermit in a movie theater bathroom, and all of the shit going on didn’t even matter. Dustin would eventually burst through the door, pulling you back into the commotion of a Russian invasion and an alternate dimension, but right now, you were just three kids, living.

Your ribs were broken and each breath you took hurt like hell, but this was the first time in a long time that you felt like you could just breathe. You reveled in it, knowing it would only last for so long.

***

a/n: Thanks for reading and I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter! If you liked it and wanted to reblog, I would be eternally grateful! Also feel free to send me asks! They can be about the story or anything really, I’m happy to talk to you guys <3

taglist:

@season4steve @sassyheroneckgiant @tangledinthegreatxscape @maeve-wileyy @palachannie @chaerfull @usaguisenpaisblog @emilieluckwood @sabrinadelreyy @mochminnie @xprloki

#stranger things #steve harrington #netflix #steve harrington fanfic #joe keery #friends to lovers #steve harrington friends to lovers #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fluff #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington x reader fanfic #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x you

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just-jordie-things · 11 months

Note

I adore your stuff and can you do 53 and 33 for Gojo KEEP SLAYING QUEEN

YAAAAS BEEN WAITIN TO WRITE THiS ONEE 33: kiss in a dream 53: against a wall kiss ___

you're huffing for air, your chest heaving and your lips parted as you continue to pant lewdly. normally you'd probably be a bit embarrassed to be so shamelessly desperate over the feeling of his warm mouth trailing along your jaw and slowly making his way towards your neck, but you'd wondered for so long what this would feel like.

warm, heavenly, soft, a little wet, a little messy, blissful, your mind is cloudy with the answers to your long-awaited question.

steady hands push at your hips until your back hits something solid, but that doesn't seem to be close enough for him, and he's pressed into you so close that you think he might be trying to break your through the wall.

"you've got to catch your breath, baby," the usual muse in his voice is gone, instead replaced by a low murmur, whispered so close to your ear you can feel his lips brush the sensitive skin. "can't have you faintin' on me"

but his heed of caution falls on deaf ears. you couldn't catch your breath if you wanted to. your heart was beating too fast, your tummy was in shambles by the wreckage of butterflies. all that escapes you in response is a strangled whimper, before you're leaning up towards him in an attempt to capture his lips with yours.

satoru chuckles, smirking with amusement, and maybe pride, before he grants your inaudible wish and slants his lips over yours. he's parting them right away, one if his hands rising from your hips to lay delicately over your neck. from the way you hum and kiss him harder he thinks you'd like it if he applied just a little more pressure, but for now it's more rewarding to run the pad of his thumb over the column of your throat. if he's lucky he might get you to beg him to squeeze around your neck tighter.

while his teeth sink into the plush flesh of your bottom lip, you're seconds away from doing so.

you're not sure how you got here, what chain of miracles happened to have him caging you against him and pathetically whimpering your plea into his mouth, only for him to swallow it and continue to tease, but you think you've been granted a gift from the gods for you to be here.

your hands tangle into his hair, pulling on it, fastening your grip, and pulling again. you think you might be tugging too hard, but the sound of his whimpering is addicting, and you find yourself continuing to card your fingers through his locks to find the spot that elicits the prettiest one. now you're both panting between heavy, sloppy kisses.

when you awake, you're shooting up right away, thrown into consciousness like you'd been banished into it. your eyes are wide and you feel your hair sticking to your neck as you try to quickly gain your barrings. images of your dream flash in your mind like a threatening reminder of the lustful feelings you'd been harboring for your friend, your colleague.

your eyes make haste in taking in your surroundings. you're in a mess of blankets on the floor in a room that isn't yours. shoko's, you note as you catch sight of the horror movie posters on the walls. right, we had a sleepover here. you can hear suguru's snoring from the bed above you, where he and shoko took turns hogging the small space and smaller blankets.

and then you turn, about to lay back down to catch your breath and hopefully go back to sleep. but you catch sight of the boy on the floor next to you. he's wide awake, propped up on his elbow, his head against his palm as he grins at you. messy white hair falls over his forehead, almost covering his see but not quite. they're wide and exposed, just for you to see that they're full of intrigue.

satoru had been listening to you toss and turn, mumbling and whimpering in your sleep for the last fifteen minutes or so. it hadn't bothered him at first, it hadn't even caught his interest. until in between inaudible mumbles, he'd heard his name. clear as day.

you realize this is your worst fear just as he speaks.

"whatcha dreamin' about?" ___

a/n: he's such a little shit you know he forces a confession out of you in the most obnoxious way he can just so he can replay every event of that ~dream~

xoxo ~ jordie

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #satoru brainrot #gojo #satoru #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru imagine #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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youryanderedaddy · 5 months

Note

Are you still writing about Edgar?

Yeah but I yassified him (he's evil now) (well, more evil)

tw: female reader, non - con, cockwarming, snuff (watching), threats, captivity, abuse, hinted murder (not reader), degradation

My Ko - fi <3

You shudder, leaning back against his hard shoulders. You can feel the hot sweat sticking to your skin and you want to scratch at your body in a desperate attempt to feel yourself clean and proper again - but this isn’t an option when you’re so stuffed you feel like your insides are going numb. Of course this doesn’t stop the killing machine taking the appearance of a man from pounding into you even harder, short staccato thrusts that leave you breathless. You’re starting to notice the pattern - he’s slow in the beginning while you still have energy to keep up and gets meaner and meaner, bullying his way into your cervix as you get tired and sloppy.

“Keep your eyes on the fucking screen.” Edgar hisses in your ear with one meaty fist wrapped around your throat tight like a leash. Your legs are spread as far as they can go without dislocating, and despite all his hushed threats that leave you gagging, you still want them intact at the end of the torture session. You blink through the thick tears glued to your eyelashes and make an effort to focus on what’s happening on the small black and white TV. There is a girl. She’s screaming. She’s bleeding. A big buff guy with a chainsaw is taunting her - and you tell yourself it’s just a movie; it’s all fake. The blood, the cruel laughter, the scorching screams, the shivers they send down your spine. Such good actors, you think. Certainly better than you would be had you been in their shoes.

“That’s the best part.” The killer whispers down your ear as his hand tightens around your neck, cutting your air supply for a good few seconds - and while you’re choking on your own spit, you can feel his member throb inside you, wet with pre - cum. Suddenly your heart starts beating faster inside your chest as if trying to break out of your ribcage, and you make the mistake of looking up. Perhaps you’re looking for some type of human warmth, for a smile, a reassuring glare, a dimple or even an automatic twitch of approval at the corner of his lips - but all you’re met with is the same old black porcelain mask along with a pair of cold dead eyes staring back at you, completely empty. Devoid of anything, but sadistic animal pleasure at your expense.

“You’re not fucking looking, slut.” The man growls, agitated, reaching to slap you across the face. It stings, but you barely feel it, too overwhelmed to care about pain at this point. But eventually his deep, domineering voice registers in your head and you obey automatically, turning your head back at the screen. “That’s a good girl.” He coos at you, but such gentle words sound unnatural coming from him - he twists them. He fucks with them and messes them up, making a mockery out of the sweetness, manipulating intimacy in the way he knows would hurt the most, so when he hits you again, you can actually feel it.

On the tape you can make out certain blurry moments - there is a rather artistic close - up of the woman’s eye being torn out, making her chapstick - red lips curl up in an almost theatrical fashion, and if you didn’t know the creator of the film yourself, you would have fully believed it was just an overdramatic slasher movie meant to scare over - curious teenagers, locked in their mom’s basement. You can recall a long forgotten essay you had just started way before you were stolen away never to be seen again, about the objectifying sexual gaze in old horror flicks. You want to laugh, because it’s funny - but you don’t, because it’s also incredibly fucking sad.

In the next moment his left hand is entangled into your shaggy, loosened locks, pulling at your scalp, and you moan, even when you know that to Edgar pain and pleasure mean all the same, look the same, sound the same - so how could he ever make out a difference? So you don’t blame him when he sinks his teeth into your throat and pumps himself inside you, bouncing your body up and down on his cock just like a toy, only slightly more human than a fleshlight. You can feel yourself growing wet and you look down just to make sure you’re still capable of such devine human feeling, but it’s yet another trap.

It’s his fingers. They’re long and bloody, curling up inside your tight slippery hole. You hold back the sigh of relief, because it’s obviously not your blood - yet your eyebrows narrow. You can’t help but wonder who was the miserable fucker who died for you to not have a painful dry fuck for the first time in weeks, but you don’t let yourself dwell on the topic, because you’d rather die than let your captor see you cry for the second time.

“K-keep looking.” The murderer groans, short of breath, growing soft inside you - but of course he doesn’t pull out or even move away like the sadistic fuck he is. You’re not sure if he’s looking at you looking at the woman with her head decapitated and the knife sticking out her naked chest, or if he’s just blissed out and dissociating into space. Edgar pulls on his sweaty white shirt, and the only evidence of his humanity left - his lust, manifests as redness on his neck and white stars in his empty eyes.

“You just twitched.” He purrs with a certain boyish giddiness to his usually husky voice, letting his hands grope at your open trembling thighs, caressing the old healed scars on your battered skin. “It’s because I’m fucking scared–” You try to argue, but the panic settles at the back of your throat like a massive, sticky lump of fear and you just can’t continue with whatever you wanted to say. Your voice is hoarse and tired anyways - why even try at this point? It always ends the same.

“That means you’re getting used to it.” Edgar grins, stroking his chin as if he is deep in thought. Then he laughs with that nasty little chuckle that you now associate with pink razors and pins, and sometimes needles. “You used to fucking piss yourself at those helloween movies for kids.” He kisses your neck, pulling you closer into a bear hug, and you wonder if he’s intentionally squeezing all your vital organs in. “Now you’re getting off to my old tapes like a fucking snuff bunny. I’m proud of you, baby.” His mask falls on the ground, revealing his face. It’s the same as usual - evil and bloody.

“Just don’t get too used to it, m’kay?” The killer smiles coldly, but his eyes remain just as lifeless as five seconds ago. He pinches your nose playfully, and your heart drops into your stomach. “Because soon enough you might just find yourself at the other end of it all.” He squints, his sides heating up with perverse excitement. “And I’d hate for you to make a boring actress.”

#yandere #yancore #male yandere #yandere smut #male yandere x reader #yandere oneshot #yandere male x reader #yandere x you #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #tw non con

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ruskaroma · 9 months

Note

omg omg (i really need professional help) i had this Vision of dark+DARK+mean!john wick learning about an asshole who bullied their bunny-really-the-nicest-human-being!reader back during her school years (the reader cluelessly mentions it during conversation). john is not just angry outraged etc, he is The Rage, The War, The Biblical Day of Wrath, so he finds that guy, beats/tortures the living shit out of him and then brings his absolutely clueless little pretty bunny so that she could finish him. john is behind the reader, his arms wrapped around her arms, his hands on her shaking hands holding a gun pointing at the barely breathing man tied to a chair. the reader is crying begging to stop, and john goes "he deserves it, honey <3. now, right kneecap. go, princess, don't let me down".

Oh my god I have something for you.

Let’s give it a very dark twist, shall we? We’ll stick to this concept, but let’s make it even darker.

TW: mentions of past sexual and physical abuse, blood and gore, graphic depiction of torture, john being a very very mean man like he is fucked in the head may god bless his soul, john is also forcefully making the reader kill the man so there’s that.

It was a slip of your tongue. You didn’t notice it, but John surely did. You were used to rambling your thoughts away, a habbit that John adores so much, hearing your voice and telling him everything that’s in your head, because it means you’re not keeping any secrets from him.

A supposed to be peaceful Saturday night ruined John’s whole week, but he didn’t let it show. He kept himself composed around you, smiling so softly when you’d share a random fact about the things you’re holding or whatever comes in mind. He’s a master in the arts of keeping his expression controlled despite his emotions practically clawing their way out of his fucking lungs.

Your head was on his lap as he brushed your hair with his long fingers softly. For a hand that’s killed too many people to count, it’s surprisingly merciful around you. A shitty horror movie was playing on the TV but your attention quickly diverted to somewhere else when you watched a rather familiar scene in the film.

“Oh, man, that sucks. I know how it feels, I used to get hit by my ex-boyfriend all the time.”

What the fuck, John thought. His fingers stopped their movements as he furrowed his eyebrows. You said it as a whisper too but he heard it. He heard it fucking clearly.

“What?”

“Huh?” You moved your head to look up to him. “You said something?”

“You did,” John pointed out. “About your ex-boyfriend. What did you say?”

“Ohhh,” you said in realization, but your tone was calm. Like it was the most fucking normal thing to say in a conversation. “Yeah, he was mean. He used to hit me every time I made a very small mistake, but he said sorry when we broke up.”

John didn’t know what to say. He was frozen, trying to comprehend the words that were being thrown at him all at once.

His baby – the love of his life, someone who cannot even hurt a fucking ant – just dropped a bomb that she was a victim of abuse.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this before?” John tried to keep his voice leveled, soft, as he placed a large hand on your cheek and pulled you up so he could take a good look at your face.

“Well, you didn’t ask. And it’s not like it mattered anymore. I went to therapy and everything was back to normal.”

“No, that’s not –” he closed his eyes in frustration, trying so hard to keep his shit together. “Did he do anything else? Where is he now?”

“He’s–he’s doing fine. I don’t know where he is, it’s been awhile since we’ve gotten in touch.”

John could hear the tremble in your voice, like you knew what was going to come, like you knew what he’s going to do.

He didn’t answer after you said that. He looked away from you, put his attention back to the television.

You shrugged it off, hoping he would let it go.

He did not, in fact, let it go.

You came home one day after work to see him being rather... cheery than usual. It was unusual in itself. John being particularly cheery was not something you see in your everyday life.

He had already cooked dinner when you arrived, ate it beside you with an arm around your shoulders. He was also crooning at your ears, asking about your day if something special happened.

“I have a surprise for you.”

Your eyebrows flew up, curious yet amused. Is this why he was cheery all of a sudden?

He led you to his basement – a place where you’re never allowed to go, always bolted shut and completely restricted to you. You were getting a pretty bad feeling about this.

“What–what are we doing here, John?”

Again, he didn’t answer. You could see the grim, dark expression on his face as he opened the door. The face you only ever see when he was just coming back from a long, tiring day at work. The face you only see you know he just slaughtered someone.

Turns out, he did.

Not exactly slaughtered, but close enough.

The man who made you go through hell for years, tied up in a chair in the middle of the room, missing all his fingers on both his feet and hands.

“John, what the–”

Your boyfriend pushed a heavy pistol in your hand, and your heart is beating so hard inside your chest you couldn’t speak properly. You haven’t yet got the time to comprehend what was happening. It was all too fast.

“Pull it.”

“J-John, please don’t–”

“Pull it,” John repeated. He didn’t like repeating himself. You know this. He was standing behind you, his chest pressing against your back, warm and broad and his voice sounded so menice and fucking evil and– “Pull it, baby, before I do it myself.”

“Why are you–” your voice was shaking as well as your hands. You wanted to drop the weapon but you knew it wouldn’t do you any good, not when John was just behind you. “Why are you doing this, John? Please let him–let him go, it was a long time ago–”

“I don’t care,” he said simply, one large hand sneaking down to grab your wrist that’s holding the gun, pointing it directly at the man who’s – Jesus, was he still alive? You saw him move, he flinched, then let out a cough that made more blood from his mouth drip onto his lap. “I haven’t killed him yet because that’s your job.”

“N-No–” tears were forming into your eyes. The feeling of John’s hand gripping yours was already too much to bear, much worse pointing it to the man who abused and neglected you during your relationship, but why were you feeling bad? “John, I–I don’t w-want to, John, please, I don’t want–”

John sighed, disappointed, but he didn’t let you go. Instead, he leaned down closer to your ear and pressed a soft kiss there. His beard tickled, making you flinch and let out a shaky breath as you gulped hard.

“John, he–I know you’re doing this because you think it’s best, but I–I promise you that it’s not worth it–it’s in the past and, and–”

“Excuses, excuses,” John whispered, standing straight and taking a step away from you, positioning himself in front of the gun. “Here you are, begging for the life of the man who abused you in the past. Don’t you think that sounds absolutely ridiculous, baby?”

“It’s not–it’s not ridiculous, John, I promised! We–we talked one time after our breakup and he–he apologized for everything, I swear–I swear, John, it was all in the past–”

John cut off your rambling with an evil stare, and it was so unlike him that it scared you right to the very core. “Pull the trigger or I will. I’ll put a fucking hole in his head, saw it off and send it to his little wife and children back in Vegas.”

“John–” you sobbed. “John, please–”

“Did you know that I made him confess every diabolical shit that he’d done to you every time I chop off one of his fingers?” John said it in such a calm and steady tone that it made you only afraid of him even more. “I chopped all his fingers, and he still won’t stop confessing more. Can you believe that?”

“I already forgave him–I already forgave him, John, this wasn’t necessary–”

“It won’t be the same if I’m the one who pulls the trigger now, would it? It wouldn’t be fair, because I’m not the one who suffered under his hands,” John pushed even further, walking back to his original position behind you, gripping your arm and pointing the pistol directly at his head. “If you don’t pull that fucking trigger in the next five second, I’ll let you use a chainsaw to do it and trust me when I say you wouldn’t want it messy.”

You gulped, feeling yourself grow more and more afraid as John stood behind you. He was radiating anger, but he was keeping it at bay, though his swear words might be some of the leakage of his emotions he couldn’t contain any longer.

“I don’t want–don’t make me d-do this, John–”

“One...”

“John, please–”

“Two....” His voice was scary. Deep and level, and the grip on your arm tightened. You felt suffocated.

“I’m gonna throw u-up if I–”

“Three...” He was getting agitated.

The man’s head rose up from his position earlier to meet your eyes, and you swore you felt your stomach churn. His eyes were fucking gone.

The man opened his mouth to speak and a weak voice came. “D-Don’t–”

You pulled the trigger.

“There’s my little bunny.”

You dropped the gun as soon as his brains flew against your face and onto the wall, painting it red. You couldn’t bear to watch any further. You turned with a sob and buried your face in John’s chest, crying hysterically as he soothed you calmly by petting your head.

“Good girl. You did so fucking good, I’m so proud of you.”

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sunshine-and-moonshine · 3 months

Text

Monster!Reader (Part 4)

Requested: Yes

Warnings: Manipulation, Phycological Horror, Forced Amnesia, Light Gore, Dismemberment, Obsession, Stalking, Kidnapping, Broken Limbs, Poorly translated Russian, Character Death (background), Mentions of eating people (not technically cannibalism since the reader isn’t a human), Traditionally female monsters but reader is kept GN.

A/N: I uh, got a little bit darker with this one. And I’ll give credit where credit is do. @ghouljams I didn’t do it on purpose but when I was proofreading Roach’s part I realized it sounded a lot like Threat. It was a complete fucking accident 🖐.

König - Pixie

The heat around him was suffocating him, especially with his mask on. The sweat soaking through the fabric and making it stick to his face. Troublesome, making him unable to focus on the target through the scope of the rifle. So he opted to simply tear it off, careful to keep it within reach should he need it. But he hadn’t realized that in doing so, he left himself vulnerable to the many bugs surrounding him. Mosquitoes especially, annoying little things that he had to keep smushing.

And when he felt something soft and light brush against his cheek, he didn’t even think before he smacked it, startled by the crunch of something and a cry of pain. Loud in his ear but quiet when he pulled his hand away to see….you. Clutching your bent leg, one of your shimmering wings at an odd angle, sobbing your heart out in the palm of his hand, clearly in quite a bit of pain. He panicked, forgetting the fact that this was a very weird situation and that five minutes ago he didn’t even know that pixies existed, just cooing to you and gently trying to examine you, jumping when you screamed as he brushes his fingertip against your wing.

“*Tut mir leid!” He cried, probably a bit too loudly considering the way you jumped in fear, curling in on yourself the best you could. A scared little injured mouse in the paw of the fierce lion. “It’s okay. Shh, I will help you, *Kleines Glühwürmchen. Don’t be afraid. *Es tut mir so leid.”

He pulled you close to his chest, shushing you even as you beat at his fingers with your tiny body, kicking with your good leg, biting, and scratching at him as he placed you in a pocket of his vest, clicking it shut so you couldn’t fall out when he moved. He still had a job to do, but he promises he’ll take care of you afterwards! Bandage you up and get you back to perfect health again. He hoped those pretty wings of yours weren’t as fragile as they looked, hoped that they would heal so you could fly around again.

If not, well, he’d just have to keep taking care of you.

Roach - Jorōgumo

How you two met was kind of a mystery to Roach, like a haze had taken over his mind. He remembered soft lips, music, flashing lights. Did he drink? He must have. It was the only thing that could rationalize the pure confusion that night brought up. All he knew was that he woke up to you lazily stroking at his head, and it felt like coming home. Like safety and love. So fuzzy with the feeling that he doesn’t even question when you stay in his home, when you crawl into his bed at night and kiss at his neck. Just giggle when he slurs out how much he loves you, how he can’t live without you. The feeling so overpowering that nothing began to feel real except for the touch of you.

He doesn’t remember his friends anymore, his brothers in arms. Their names forgotten somewhere in the back of his mind. Sometimes the thought of them itches at him, scratches at his skull like a rat in a jar. Incessantly, loudly, painfully. He’ll ask you, voice softened by a headache that pounds in his frontal lobe, if you know what he’s forgotten. But all you do is smile and kiss his cheek, and suddenly all those worries and the pain just fade away, putting him right back into that place of cotton candy sweet happiness and love.

He doesn’t notice the near invisible strings that wrap tighter and tighter around him everyday, cinching around his neck like a noose but never really biting into him. And your eyes always sparkling with poorly hidden mirth as he scratched at his neck, asking if you saw a hair that he couldn’t get. He believes you when you say no, doesn’t question you when you lick along that same line that night.

Ignorance is bliss, and he’d do anything to stay in your arms.

Rudy - Witch

Rudy didn’t encounter you first hand for a long time but he found traces of you everywhere for months on end. Short curly hairs in his food, strange animals watching him from behind buildings and trees, and the ever present feeling of eyes watching him. Always the eyes, daggers digging into his back, reminding him of how he was never alone. Always watched. It was unnerving but also….comforting. On his loneliest nights, on his most dangerous missions, those eyes were always watching him. Keeping him company.

Some days he woke up swearing he felt the warmth of you at his side. The shape of your body denting his mattress, the weight of your arm tossed over his waist, the feel of your legs tangling with his. It was maddening as much as it was exhilarating and he couldn’t stop the wave of pure lust that rolled through him, needing to stroke his heavy and aching cock while those feelings still remained. Eyes rolling back in his head when he felt a phantom tongue lick the cum off his belly after he’d finished himself off.

But of course not everything can be so hot for Rudy. There are things that start to scare him. Nightmares of creatures looming over his bed, the vague shape of people in the dark corners of his room, sleep paralysis, and of course the sudden death or dismemberment of the people around him.

A too aggressive superior grabs his shoulder hard enough to leave bruises, and he loses that same hand in a freak accident with a shredder. A kind recruit bumps shoulders with him in the hallway and has half of her body burned during a mission. A man in a bar flirts with him and ends up dead in an alleyway, his own cock ripped off and shoved down his throat, eyes gouged out of his head, and his heart missing from his chest cavity.

That last one might be what scares Rudy most. As he’d woken up to a box on his bedside table, the vital organ still beating in the pretty red paper around it. But most horrifying was that he….wasn’t upset by it. Found his own heart swelling with affection as he reached out to touch it, feeling cold fingers creep along the back of his neck, leaving bloody trails. It felt like love sinking into his very soul.

Nikto - Rusalka

Nikto couldn’t remember how he got to the lake. Couldn’t remember why he wanted to be at the lake. But here he stood, at the water’s edge, peering into the dark depths of it, moonlight shining on the surface. Soft slow waves lapping at the tips of his boots like a dog welcoming him home. Was this home? Nothing felt like it anymore. Nothing made him feel safe and warm and comforted, all the things people described as home. Nothing but that big moon, staring down at him. The chill of the breeze nipping at his cheeks through his mask, and the gentle touch of a hand reaching out to stroke at the small patch of skin on his ankle not covered by his pants or socks.

“I’ve missed you.” He heard you whisper, and he couldn’t even bring himself to listen to the voices in his head whispering that it was a lie. Your voice somehow overpowered them. It was the only thing that did. “*Мой сладкий ягненок. Step a little closer.” You beg, voice soft and pleading, ringing in his head like the wind chimes his Babushka used to hang around her house. He couldn’t deny you.

Slowly, carefully, he stepped deeper into the water, your approving hum vibrating through his bones. Deeper and deeper he waded, but never seemed to reach you. Not until the water was at his neck, your unnaturally sharp teeth glinting just below the surface of the waves.

“*хороший мальчик.” You whispered, the words making his heart pound despite the cold’s best attempts at making his blood slow. He sighed as you cupped his cheeks, pulling him forward until his face was nestled in the crook of your neck, humming a soft lullaby in his ear. He never understood why you didn’t kill him. Why didn’t drag him down into the watery depths like so many men before him but….he was glad for it. Glad to spend another day cradled in your arms, fingers slipping under his mask to tenderly trace his scars.

And if one day you changed your mind, then he’d be just as glad to be in his watery grave. His bones lining your nest, his flesh nourishing you, his very soul haunting you for the rest of your life, your guardian forevermore. Oh, what bliss.

*Tut mir leid! = I’m sorry!

*Kleines Glühwürmchen. = Little Firefly. (Also can mean Glowworm but the intention is Firefly.)

*Es tut mir so leid. = I’m so sorry

*Мой сладкий ягненок. = My sweet lamb.

*хороший мальчик. = Good boy.

#cod #call of duty #monster!reader #König #könig x reader #gary roach sanderson #Gary Roach Sanderson x reader #Rudy parra #rudy parra x reader #Nikto #nikto x reader

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bonny-kookoo · 7 months

Note

I have a request for Velvet Heart.

I'd like to know how or why things changed for Jungkook, what happened in the past that brought him so close to madness.

A/N: Obviously warning for Yandere content, psychological horror, mental illness. Don't read if that makes you uncomfortable, I'm not responsible for what you consume.

Jungkook has always been a little.. vulnerable, mentally. He's easily stressed, and stress makes him act irrationally sometimes- but no one ever thought it would become an issue, down the line.

He's just soft. It'll be fine when he grows older.

Wrong. It just got worse.

So much so that after yet another incident of someone finding out his phone number and mass calling him, he's brushed off as no issue at all. That he's old enough to deal with this on his own now- 'You're 21 now, that's an adult, Jungkook. And adults have to make their own decisions.'

Suddenly. Huh?

Suddenly he's supposed to be independent.

After years and years of being babied and belittled and having everything chewed up for him so he wouldn't have to use his teeth for anything. Suddenly he's supposed to hunt down his own food and provide for himself.

And it's when he realizes it, in the darkness of his small private apartment he got scolded for buying last year.

He's nothing but a product. No one actually cares for him- only for what he represents. A brand. A puppet. Something to buy. Nothing to love.

He's told to just ignore it, use another phone or request another number and just move on from it. But how can he move on if there's people out there who call him nothing but a dog for simply missing a comment on a livestream? He can't just play after everyone's tune, there's too much music at this point, beats bleeding into one another so much so that he can't find a spot to place his feet any longer.

He keeps tripping, and everyone blames him for it.

They've even taken his phone away from him entirely, years back. Now they're doing different things to control him. Tell him to concentrate, loose weight, gain it back, loose it again. Get surgery, don't get it, or rather get it but hide it. Promote this, just to get blamed if the brand does something stupid, stop promoting it just to get called a coward.

Die, but stay alive, but also die, but also keep going. What's going on?

Left?

Right?

Is there a middle to choose instead?

He's got no voice. He sings, loudly so, stable as ever- but his voice doesn't belong to himself. Is what's wanted, it's what fits the concept, just like the rest of him.

Interchangeable. Morphing, constantly.

One day he's the boyfriend, next he is the brother, then he's the boy next door, just to become the sexiest crush all the girls want. What is he?

Who is he?

He hasn't called back the company, has locked his doors and shut the blinds. He doesn't want to do this any longer, this is all just insanity, doesn't anyone see this? Is everyone just so obsessed with wealth that they don't care about being honest?

He's walking alongside Han River, hood deep over his head, facemask hiding what's exposed, clothes dark. He doesn't want to be known, by anyone, ever again. But even if he moved to the other end of the world, starting again as a no-name is a luxury he'll never be granted.

Someone's sitting on the ground, clothes wetly sticking to the skin. Long hair. A girl? He's not sure.

You're moving, barely so, shivering, body trembling in the cold temperature. He lends you his jacket, eyes wide open as they look at yours. You're like a scared little animal, nothing behind those eyes that's coherent, but most importantly-

there's no recognition.

Even when he pulls his mask down a little to test it- you don't seem to know who he is. You don't talk at all, even when asked for your name.

You just cry, scared, terrified, leaning closer to him when he tries to get up.

Is that affection? Or maybe what affection could feel like?

If so, this is affection without any thought behind it. Nothing to gain. Nothing to receive. You just want to be close to him. To him.

Not to him.

It's so wrong. God it's so wrong, it makes him nauseous, makes him panic a little when he realizes that he somehow managed to get you into his home, where you now sleep in his bed, freshly showered, arms wrapped in bandages, hair dried, dressed in his softest clothes, safely tucked beneath the covers.

He should call the cops. But then he'd be blamed, right? They'll think he's insane, a creep, a criminal- and when it get's out, he's a wanted man, even if he somehow doesn't get put into jail.

No. He can't do that.

He can't have that.

But he can have you.

And he wants to have you.

Someone who wants him.

And not the version of him staring back at him from the billboard across the street.

You're just what he needs.

And he'll become all that you'll need in return.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #bts yandere #yandere bts #yandere #yandere jungkook

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1800jjbarnes · 7 months

Text

◇ 𝐄𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 | 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐏𝐭.𝟏 ◇

【Synopsis】 : One day, when a far away kingdom gets attacked, a lone brave knight fights to save his homeland. But what happens when death comes knocking and only a small fae could save him.

『Word count』 : 3.5k

-> Genre: Fantasy Au. Fluff. Gore. Suggestive.

Paring: GumpyKnight!Bucky x Fae!Reader

[Warnings] : Violence, heavy gore, blood, weapons, animals dying, near character death, making out

Masterlist | Navigation

The enchanted forest just on the outskirts of the kingdom was one of the most ancient and most powerful places you could ever visit. The thick forestry was home to many magical beings, ranging from fairies, fae, nymphs, druids, and more. If you walk fifteen minutes into the giant trees, you can spot a crystal clear waterfall that is said if you swim in it, a water nymph will appear and grant you wishes.

If you cast yourself deeper inside, as the forest becomes denser, you can find a cave that houses a griffin. It has spoken that he is sound asleep waiting for his master to awaken him from his enchanted slumber. The forest is beautiful inside and out but never tread too far, It may be magical and gorgeous, but it’s a dangerous land. The creatures that hide inside can be seductive and lure you into an early gra—

“Samuel! Clinton! Stop scaring the kids.” King Steve called from across the classroom. The young prince and princess stared in shock hearing the horrors of the forest just beyond their bedroom.

“Uncle Steve, can you tell us about the forest? Haven’t you been in there yourself!” The young princess smiled at him, intrigued by the stories that were whispered in the castle. Steve just chuckled, leaning against the large door frame. The two knights who were telling the stories also anticipated what their leader might say.

“Well, there was this time when—My lord three or more large wolves have entered the outskirts of the kingdom,” Nat calls out with three other knights following her close behind, Wanda and Vision, while Peter looked out of breath having to try and keep up with olders, and their long legs.

Sam and Clint told the kids to go find their father, Steve's brother from another kingdom, and wait until the threat was gone. Steve rounded them all up, heading straight for the large entrance gates.

“Wait where is Sargent Barnes?!!” Steve called, looking among the knights present.

—

Treading through the thick grass, Bucky wipes his brow with a bloody hand in hopes of removing the blood off his face. But it just ends up smearing it more. His armour is scratched, and some of it has been torn off. His chest was exposed, but he kept his shield close to make sure he didn’t get a jump on himself.

“Where are you…” He gritted his teeth, holding his sword tightly in his grasp. He already managed to slaughter two of the rage-filled beats, but he became unsure how many exactly were left. A stick snapped behind his back, making him turn at all the speed he could conjure. But it wasn’t as fast as he would have liked, being tackled down by a large black wolf. Its teeth were a mix of black, red, and yellow, its breath stunk of death, and eyes were pitch as the night sky. It was hungry, and Bucky was its prey.

—

The meadows were extra lively this fine day. The flowers were all in full bloom, making pollen dance in the cool breeze. Your cottage was warm, and the smell of leftover burnt wood from last night’s fire was still prominent as you snipped at some herbs in your greenhouse that was connected to your humble abode.

Placing the herbs and sorts carefully into the little grass basket you carry around, you head inside to sort them out for storage. Some things you sell in neighbouring kingdoms, and others you keep just for yourself. Placing everything on the counter, you notice you’re missing a few items for the meal you planned for tonight. Sighing, you head upstairs to get dressed. You couldn’t do without the ingredients, and it was only a short walk to where you needed to go.

You put on your petty coat before layering on your fabrics. You put on a baby pink and blue with a contract of a white theme. You tie on your bodice top to make sure you avoid your sheer wings. Lastly, you threw over a slitted half cloak to just cover your shoulders, gifting you a little hoodie.

Grabbing your basket and bow from downstairs, you slip on your shoes before heading out into the forestry you call home.

—

The small space clearing from the giant thick trees was covered in hot red blood. Two wolves were lifeless and cold, while one of their brothers still stood. It was wounded but held its ground. Bucky stood across from it, covered in blood. Losing count of what was his and what was the beasts. He held his stomach as the large gash that the big black wolf gave him continued to pour out streams of the crimson liquid.

He was dying.

He spat, holding his sword with both hands. If he was going down, he was going to go down fighting. The wolf growled, getting ready to pounce, looking Bucky dead in the eyes. He ran, jumping onto him, pinning him down to the damp ground. He screamed as the wolf bit into his shoulder, ripping a bit of his flesh away. It was the last piece of strength, Bucky drove his sword into the beast’s chest, his knuckles white as his grip clutched tight. The beast let out one last growl before falling onto the knight, lifeless.

Buck kicked the large wolf off him before leaning against a tree that sat behind him. His eyes grew heavy, feeling his breath becoming shallow. Lifting his left arm from his stomach to look at the damage. His lower half was completely covered in red, his hands painted cardinal.

“Fuck..” He choked, his eyes fuzzy unable to see his surroundings. Maybe going out on your own was a stupid idea. He thought before shutting his eyes for the final time.

—

You were minding your own business. Picking some morels up from the base of an Elms tree that had recently died. The soil was wet, getting stuck to your palms as you removed each mushroom carefully. A low whimper caught your attention. Making you stand up quickly. Your hand clutched your belt that carried your positions, getting ready just in case. You slowly walked towards the noise, preparing for the worst. But no one could prepare you for what you saw.

A literal blood bath.

Three dead wolves and a man. Blood is painted everywhere. The whimper you heard was from a smaller wolf that had stumbled upon the massacre. Its eyes are rage-full, stalking its way towards the man who lies unconscious. Without a second thought, you drew your bow, pulling out an arrow from the quiver. You dragged the arrow, aiming for the wolf. You slowed your breathing before letting go of the stem, letting it fly straight into the jugular of the wolf, stopping it in his tracks.

It was quick and painless.

You picked your feet up, letting them hover just above the forest floor, so your shoes don’t get blood on them. Flapping your wings, you fluttered over to the man, leaning down and becoming horizontal. You notice the gash in his chest, hissing at that state. You pop the button on your pouch, grabbing out our jar of golden dust. You pinch a small amount before sprinkling some of the unconscious male.

“Let’s get you cleaned up…” You sighed…

—

The smell of soy sauce, perilla oil, chicken broth, and other spices made Bucky's nose twitch. He shifts slightly, gifting him a sharp pain in his abdomen. His hands flew to his stomach, letting out a hard groan. He shifted more, blinking slowly. His fuzzy vision makes it hard to completely see his surroundings. He notices he is inside a lounging area, a blanket covering him and a fluffy pillow holding his neck up comfortably.

He pulled the blanket away, seeing all his wounds were dressed, and he was in only his undergarments that hid under his pants. A rush of red painted his face, feeling indecent. He moves to get up, but another sharp pain hits him, making him cough. He went to put his feet on the floor when a gasp caught his attention.

“HEY! STOP YOU’RE GOING TO POP YOUR STITCHES!!” A concerned voice made him freeze. You ran around to the front of the couch, placing both hands on his upper chest, fingers resting on his shoulders before pushing him back down onto the comforter…

His eyes grew wide watching your face contort as you spoke to him. But he doesn’t hear anything. All he is paying attention to is your beauty. The way your hair shines with sprinkles of what looks like glitter. Your skin contrasts with your outfit, making you look eternal. And your wings, resting flat on your back. The shimmer of blue on your forewings while the baby peach blends into your hindwing.

Your head tilted as you examined his wounds, he notices how cute your pointed ears look, having been decorated with jewellery. You were beautiful, a goddess. He had never felt something like this before. He was the bad guy. The quiet mysterious knight that most town folks didn’t dare to tread near. But you didn’t look at him like that. You didn’t look at him as if he were a monster. You just saw a hurt man.

“You understand!” You say sternly, making him fall out of his thoughts. He blinked a couple of times, trying to find a word that might have stuck from you, but he didn’t hear anything. You laugh watching his brain tick and find nothing, making him blush even more.

“You heard none of what I said, did you?” You giggle, crossing your arms over your chest. He just shook his head with a simple sorry.

“Stay. Don’t move, I’ll bring the food.” You got up quickly, existing towards where you came from. He sat there for a moment, confusion and wonder, mixing in his mind. All he could remember was the colour red from the blood and darkness. But now he was here, fixed up and safe…Strange.

You returned with two bowls of warm stew. Placing both on the coffee table, you move towards the largr knight, making him stiffen. You put more pillows up against the couch’s arm. Making him lean back but still sit up enough so he could eat. You place a little tray on top of his legs before putting the bowl on top and handing him a spoon.

“Eat, you’ll feel better.” You sounded like a mother caring for her sick young. You were trying to be stern, but in the tone, he knew all you were feeling was concern. Worry for a stranger you have never met, wanting nothing but to help heal him no matter his background. The silence was comforting, taking down the delicious meal. Time passed soon, finishing the meal, You got up to grab the empty dishes, heading swiftly to the kitchen. Bucky wanted to speak, but you were too quick, so he got up. Slowly, and mildly painfully, well scratched that very painfully. He leant against the kitchen door frame coughing out, making you jump.

“Oh my god, what are you doing!” You yelp, dropping the dishes back into the soapy water, immediately moving to wrap your arm, even though it doesn’t completely wrap around, his waist, helping him to sit on the chair. He wheezed out slightly, holding his lower stomach before slouching into the soft seat with emerald green cushioning and deep spruce wooden framing.

“I told you. You move, your stitches can pop, do you have a death wish or something!” You sounded angrier than you wanted, your fingers grazing over the wrapping around him, checking to if anything may have moved.

“Ha maybe.” Was the only thing he replied with. You looked him dead in the eyes with frustration. You watch the blue in his eyes shift, his pupils blow slightly. You felt a connection as if you had known him for years. The distance was suddenly hyper-aware in your mind, shifting back away from him, moving straight back to the sink.

“So…What’s your name anyway?” He asks, tilting his head slightly, trying to get your attention. You told him your name while your voice was small, watching the bubbles slowly pop away. Bucky cracked a smile, watching you intensely.

“I’m James, but everyone calls me Bucky. And I owe you a thank you.” You turned around to meet his gaze once more. Blush forms on your cheeks. You nod, smiling at him before turning your back to him, placing a bowl into the drying rack.

“I don’t need thanks. You are the one who kills those beasts. The beasts that infect my home. This forest.” You choke out, placing the last dish on the rack, and pulling the plug. Bucky clicks his tongue knowing first-hand what those feral wolves can do. Destroy crops, kill just about anything and anyone that gets in their way and leave a path of misery in their wake. You place a cup of coffee down in front of him and sit down across the table from him.

“Well James, you need to rest. You are not going anywhere until you can at least walk without anything…” You wave your hand, gesturing to his stomach, “…You know, hurting.” He laughs at your actions, taking a sip of his coffee while you do the same. Silence fell again, but it wasn’t awkward. It was comforting. A small smile was placed on both of your faces. You stared out your window, watching a small drop-lit of rainfall onto the glass, sighing in contentment. But Bucky watched you. He might not know it, and nor did you, but you had him around your finger. He was falling fast, and for once, he wasn’t scared.

—

“HEY, IT"S BUCKY!!!” Sam screamed from the edge of the billiard room, making Nat miss her shot with the pool cue. Before Nat could protest and whine, the knights started running towards the gate. Steve was there first, wrapping Bucky's arm around his shoulders to hold him up. All of his fellow knights surrounded him, spitting out questions over questions, overlapping one another.

“Okay give the man some breathing room.” Wanda pulled the two youngest away—Yelena, and Peter—letting the others move so Bucky and Stve could walk towards the castle. Once inside take, he took him straight to the infirmary to check up on his wounds. Steve was the first to break the silence.

“Where have you been? It’s been four days?” He crossed his arms, tilting his head to the side. The nurse helps Bucky remove his blouse so that she can undress his wounds. The others watch as the dressing falls off his chest, revealing a scarred semi-healed gash from just under his left nipple cross until it ends just above his pelvis. Audible gasps echoed in the infirmary, Sam leaned forward for a better look while an uproar of questions sprung again.

“Okay okay!” Steve calmed the crowd. “Answers now. We thought you were dead! For the love of god, we were contemplating whether we start planning a funeral or not!” The king sounded hurt, but who could blame him? He and the other had trouble sleeping without knowing what exactly happened.

“We found the massacre on the outside side of the woods. The five wolves are dead along with the two you left at the entrance of the forest.” Vision spoke quick, curious how he took on that many wolves.

“Five? You mean four? I only killed the four in that break of trees…” Buck said, holding the end of the bandage as the nurse dressed the wrapping around him. Then it recalled to him that when you found him, a wolf might have been there. Did you kill a wolf to save him?

“Oh, Doll…” he sighed in a whisper, making the others tilt their heads at the grumble of words.

“Who Doll?” Peter asked, only just being able to hear the older male’s voice. Bucky was frozen he didn’t want to tell his friends who you were, not cause he didn’t trust them, but if the word got out that he was saved by a creature of the forest, questions would arise and that could lead to negative theories on Steve's leadership. There was too much to risk at the moment, and only just being returned sparked all these questions. He was scared.

“I’m not dead, right, that’s the main thing. I’m fine. But I….” The nurse backs away to the desk on the side, pulling out some other dressings, but Bucky stood up, backing away from the bed. “I’m tired, but I assure you I’m not in danger anymore….”

And with that, he left in a hurry, leaving his brother confused and even more so worried.

—

Two weeks had passed since the accident, and everyone seemed to have died out of questions. None of the townsfolk speculated anything and only blessed Bucky, one of the bravest knights, was safe.

Bucky watches through the bay window in the main meeting room. An important spokesman came around to King Steve for some event that was happening. Bucky wasn’t paying attention. All that was thinking about was you.

Tonight was your meeting night. He would sneak away in the evening while everyone went off to their separate duties. The sun was low on the horizon, and most had already settled in for the night. But Buck was quick and quiet, weaving through the halls to avoid all the guards and his friends. He managed to get to the outer gate undetected, but little did he know, Nat was hot on his tail, watching his every move.

Bucky entered the dim forest, making Nat curious to remember back to the conversation she had with the others not too long ago.

“I’ve seen him. He has been sneaking out into the forest at night.” Sam states having been on guard watch the other night. The others were beginning to question where their friend was disappearing to. Bucky avoided every question and every query that was thrown his way. Everyone was becoming impatient with the mystery. So Sam and Clint devised a plan to catch Bucky out and find out exactly where he was going.

“My bet, a siren or worse, a succubus has enchanted him,” Peter says with worry, fear slipping off his tongue.

“Succubus?! You are certainly mad. I think a witch has given him a love potion.” Nat laughed.

“Maybe it’s love,” Wanda whispered making everyone turn from the table.

“Love? Pff, you’re funny.” Sam laughed but Wanda was serious, Maybe the cold-hearted and closed-off knight finally met someone who could melt his exterior. But in the end, the others were still determined to find out how. So as the sun sets and they all got set into place. Bucky doesn’t suspect a thing, entering the forest like he does every other time.

But only this time Nat and the others were close behind.

The front garden was full of lanterns lighting up the evening’s surroundings. You sat on your swinging bench while Bucky stood in front of you, telling yet another story of his adventures. He swings his sword as he focuses on this crucial part of the story, and all you can do is smile at him being so goofy. He was so perfect in your mind and you were falling every moment you spent with him. He tripped lightly, making you laugh, standing quickly to help him up, but he pulled you down, making you fall slowly as your wings stopped you from gravity. His arms snake around your waist as you both laugh. Your hands rest on his chest as you look him in his beautiful eyes. He smiles, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“I think I’ve fallen for you…” He confesses, making you blush, leaning close to him. Your lips ghost of him as your smile grows with his.

“As am I…” you reply, leaning into a kiss. His lips are soft and warm. Butterflies dance in your stomach, and your wings flutter slightly. His hand cups your face, deepening the kiss. You were so in love, and so was he. And as he sits up, he brings you with him. His hands grip your thighs, bringing you onto his lap before turning you. You fall onto the soft grass on your back with Bucky above you. Your wings lay flat, letting Buck see every detail. His fingers graze over the sheer appendage, making you let out a small sigh. Electricity crackles up your spine, almost like a burning wire in a broken fuse box. Everything was so sensitive. You couldn’t get enough. You needed more.

“James…” you whisper through his lips, mixing your breath with his before he coulc answer you, prying eyes that were watching your displays of affection caught his attention.

“What did I tell you,” Wanda states with a smile, watching his friend finally happy.

“NO WAIT, I WANTED TO WIN THE BET!!” Sam said a little too loudly, making you and Bucky hear. You sat up straight off him, hiding behind his back once he was facing where the noise was.

“Sam?” Bucky called out suddenly, seeing a small head pop out from behind the trees before yelling;

“Pretend We're not here!!!!”

Everyone laughed.

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raineandsky · 4 months

Text

#85

The door slams. Footsteps tramp up the corridor. The villain’s gaze snaps up from the crochet in their lap.

The hero appears in the doorway. Their eyes lock for a long moment.

“Hey,” is all the hero says. The villain hums in return as they continue across the living room to the minifridge, tucked away in the corner, to grab a snack. Alcohol’s proven off limits with haphazard schedules like theirs—snacks are a decent enough substitute.

The hero flops on the sofa next to the villain wielding a bag of celery sticks. “Weren’t you meant to be out, like, an hour ago?”

The villain’s gaze is already back on the yarn in their hands. “Yeah, but I didn’t wanna go until the film finished.”

The hero’s attention turns to the tv screen in front of them. They’ve seen this film before. They’re not even an hour in. “Won’t [Supervillain] be mad if you’re late?”

“Well, timetables aren’t very evil.” The villain laughs shortly. “So no.”

The hero hums at that. “You’re really willing to be two hours late?”

“Why?” The villain squints at them from over the slowly lengthening jumper between their crochet hooks. “You got a girl waiting for you in your room?”

The hero scoffs dramatically. “I don’t even like girls, you moron.”

They dip into their bag of celery mindlessly, crunching on a stick for a moment before holding the bag out to their nemesis. Said nemesis looks entirely offended at the offer.

“Jesus, ew, no,” they snap, their tone playfully harsh. “You can just say if you want me to leave.”

“Oh, sorry.” The hero leaps to their feet, waving their celery stick at the villain like a priest might wield a cross. “Begone, demon!”

The villain shrieks in believable horror, scrambling away from the hero. “God, no! Not the celery!”

The hero laughs brightly. “Go to work!”

The villain makes some strangled noise of dread, clutching dramatically at their chest. “Fine, fine! I’ll go!” They practically leap for the front door, grabbing for their coat on the way. The hero mercilessly follows them into the hallway. It’s moments like these the hero remembers what a damn good actor the villain can be when they feel like it.

The front door gets flung open. The villain makes a show of fumbling for the doorway before turning back to the hero with a grin. “See you out there in a few hours?”

“Of course.” The hero shoves the last of the celery into their mouth in a show of peace. “Go wreck something so I can come beat your ass about it.”

“That’ll be the day. Pause the movie for me.” And with that the villain disappears out the door and across the little corridor outside.

The apartment sinks into comfortable silence as the hero shuffles back to the living room to turn the tv off. Then it’s to their bedroom, already shedding their jacket at the door.

The man lounging on their bed graces them with a slight frown. “Your roommate sounds exactly like [Villain].”

“It’s a curse. Everyone says that.” The hero ditches their shoes next. “Now, let’s make the most of the next couple hours, huh?”

The man smirks at that, clearly satisfied with the answer. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

#creative writing #writblr #writers on tumblr #writing #writing community #heroes and villains #hero x villain #happy one year anniversary to this blog!!!!! as of yesterday!!!!!!#what a wildin year huh #thank you to yall for bein here i love you all SO MUCH #i never thought id still have this going a year later cause im terrible at stickin out hobbies #but writing has become a love of mine and yall have made it all the more enjoyable here #hope yall had a bangin new year!!!

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sweatytimetravelearthquake · 3 months

Text

How to kill your husband

---------------------------

Warning: there are scenes of domestic violence, murder scenes, blood. 18+

---------------------------

It was a very sweet relationship at first, but Sanzu started picking on you and your surroundings. He started forbidding you to communicate with other guys. You violated the ban by going with your best friend from university when Haruchiye saw this. He roughly dragged you into the car, drove off a long time ago, picking up speed. When he brought you home, he beat you, not being shy in his expressions, showing his disgust. After several such cases, you decided to break up with him, but he only got even more angry. A strong slap in the face made you fall, and then he grabbed your silky hair, it seemed that he would pull it out.

"You'll find out how to want to break up with me, bitch!"

"But for what? .. You stopped loving me yourself! Let go!" — The neighbors don't care. Everyone knew the pink-haired man's connections, no one could dare to help you with this relationship. The guy got angry and hit the corner of the table, which could have ended in death, but he knew how to count the force. Your blood was running down your temple, and your whole body was buzzing. He pushes you, and then comes closer, putting his hands, which breathed tobacco on your neck. Haruchie squeezes them on your throat, the smell of alcohol comes from him, and you were sure that in addition to alcohol, he sniffed out two tracks.

"You have no right not to love me.. If you don't like it, I'll make you start."

"I hate you..."

"Don't you dare talk to me like that!" — Pushes you away, and then squeezes your hands, trying to twist them behind your back. Your resistance irritates Sanza, and he hits you with his hand in a rage: you fall to the floor and remain lying there, cowering in pain and horror. He's standing on top of you, looking at you with disdain. All you can do is keep quiet, feeling like you're about to lose consciousness. — "I'll go, don't fucking enter my office" — you clearly knew that another prostitute would come to him soon, he would cheat right in front of your eyes.

Sanzu has never loved you. Taking his loyalty to Manjiro, it was fashionable to conclude that he was very loyal only to someone he truly loved. And I only kept you around out of a sense of possessiveness. You feel sick. Your whole body hurts and your limbs are shaking. The moans of that dyed blonde are heard, all the hatred for both people is felt, but that girl is not to blame. But you didn't give a damn about her, you have the right to hate everyone, hate Sanza, hate all his whores, hate Sano, who founded this Bonten, hate the damn Haitani, Haruchiyo's friends. You get up on shaky legs and take a knife from the bedside table. It's time to end this all. The door to his office opens, you see how he pushes a girl you don't know into the table with sharp thrusts. He doesn't hear you coming at him, stops only when you stick a knife in his back. A man's blood drips onto the prostitute's stomach, causing her to scream. With sharp movements, you make the wound deeper, long and pulls out the blade. He can barely stand on his feet, turns around, and for the first time fear and pain are visible in his face. This is the first time you've seen them. It's like being on powerful drugs. You push him and stick the knife in again and again, piercing his stomach and chest. Hot scarlet liquid stains the table, you, the girl whose throat you cut, that scum screamed painfully. Sanzu is still living out his last seconds. Your hand slides right into the wound on his stomach, rips off his kidney and puts it in his mouth. There is a stench of various liquids, and the painting makes you want to vomit. Your boyfriend is already dead, lying on the floor, naked, laid out girl on the table.

#tokyo revengers × reader #tokrev #tokyo revengers #sanzu haruchiyo #tokyo revengers sanzu #sanzu x reader #akashi haruchiyo #tokyo revengers haruchiyo sanzu #haruchiyo sanzu x reader

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sommerregenjuniluft · 4 months

Text

@jegulus-microfic dec 15 (only 8 days late lol) - game - 1.8k words - cw: heavy making out, sweat licking lol (they're animals)

pt3 of the charmed mistletoe thingy <3 (part 1, part 2 exclusively on ao3)

this is Not proofread *summersaults away*

After those first two times it seems to evolve into a bit of a game for James.

It’s late in the afternoon as Regulus is walking back to the dorms from Runes by himself.

Barty had disappeared as soon as young, mellow-minded Babbling had opened her mouth to announce the end of today’s lesson to do whatever it is he does in his freetime away from his friends—write essays for Seven Years in exchange for Firewhisky, plot the downfall of the Ministry, probably.

Meanwhile Pandora and Evan should just be done with their last period too right now—Care of Magical Creatures over by the Greenhouses this semester. Something about Kettleburn having them tend to the Niffler eggs. Regulus doesn’t even want to know.

Coming out of the Middle Tower, instead of taking a left and heading straight for the way leading to the dungeons, he keeps walking into the Middle Courtyard.

He already sees a free window alcove he can settle himself down in to wait for his friends to arrive when he rounds the old stone archway and collides with someone.

Regulus grunts and there’s only a moment of irritation before it’s washed away by the next ghust of air carrying citrus, spice and an obscene amount of broom polish, wood, leather and sweat.

“Oh, you’re fucking ki—”

“Oops,” James says, where he’s got his arms wrapped around Regulus, sounding not very sorry at all.

“You–” Regulus rears back, as far as the magic sticking his feet to the ground allows him to, and pulls back to hit James in the chest—which doesn’t do a lot at the moment, sadly, given James’ Quidditch padding under the uniform, “foul, loathsome, evil little—”

“Now, now,” James chuckles. His brown skin is tinted scarlet on the cheeks and nose from the cold and exertion of practice and still gleaming with drying sweat.

Regulus does not think about licking him. “I despise you.”

“Sure,” James nods, tone sarcastically affirmative, moving in, “Pucker up, baby. I gotta hit the showers and then subject myself to the horrors of writing two feet of an at least Exceeds Expectations worthy essay for Sluggy.”

Regulus gives him a practised sneer, “You must’ve been hit in practice one too many times if you think you will get a kiss from me like this.”

James’ lips twitch, “And why’s that, love?”

“You reek,” Regulus scolds. Lies.

Like a liar.

A dirty, rotten liar, who lies.

James shrugs one shoulder, “And your breath still smells like lunch.”

Regulus’ heart stops beating. He’s pretty sure if you’re watching closely enough you were just able to see his soul leave his body for a second, warp outside, make his edges blurry. Regulus might be sick.

“What?”

“Great, now that we’ve both said something untrue, why don’t we move ommpf–”

“Fuck you,” Regulus spits, shaking his hand where his knuckles are starting to throb from the repeated hitting.

“Y’know,” James stops rubbing his side and promptly reels Regulus in by his wrist. “With the way your eyes are blitzing this is kind of getting me going.”

With the close proximity it’s a little harder to think clearly now. Regulus feels his brows knit deeper, feels his body unclench when one of James’ palms finds the small of his back.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Wanna find out how much?” James rasps, licking his lips. His eyes are lidded, dark lashes long behind his wire framed glasses. His hair is even more of an atrocity than usual thanks to the helmet he wore, standing in all kinds of directions or plastered to his skull and forehead in some places.

It’s annoyingly similar to the way James had looked after Regulus had unthinkingly tousled it their previous time under a mistletoe.

As if James knows the turn his thoughts have taken he squeezes slightly at Regulus’ hand, murmuring, “Remember last time? How good it felt? Because I do.”

James’ eyes are boring so hard into Regulus he feels like being lit on fire from the inside.

“And I know you did, love–Don’t even try to deny it.”

Regulus still slowly shakes his head, even as his fingers curl in the harness straps of James’ chest padding.

“Come get another taste, Regs.” James nudges their noses together, “I’m all yours.”

Those three words do something a little unhinged to Regulus.

It makes him want to take a bite out of James. Get a taste of the consistency of him between his teeth and then feel him slide down his oesophagus in a gooey, wet pile. Dig claws in, break the skin and make him bleed. Mark him up.

It’s truly wondrous that Regulus is able to get anything out other than a feral, hungry snarl.

He doesn’t know what ethereal might overcomes him when he mutters, with the steadfastness of a shaky leaf in a tornado, “Only the cheek.”

A dark brow rises over the rim of James’ glasses, “Only the cheek, huh?”

Regulus manages a nod, a shaky breath leaving him on the exhale.

“Fine then,” James whispers, leaning in.

He does it just like the first time.

His thumb on the underside of Regulus’ chin, other fingers splayed over his jawbone and guiding him to the side. Warm breath, then even warmer lips pressing right forth.

Not shy at all. Going right after what he wants.

Lips lifting and there’s only a single second of immobility before there’s a second kiss. And a third.

Steadily moving lower, growing a little bolder, more open mouthed. Less of that barely there stubble, more of the slick satiny inside of James’ mouth.

And with the skin to skin contact Regulus has apparently been completely abandoned by this higher force because his traitorous body leans into the delicious treatment. Head tilting to the side accommodatingly, lids fluttering and own lips parting around a quiet groan.

The hinge of Regulus’ jaw is being explored, a small detour to nip at his earlobe and then James sets his lips down over the patch of skin behind and latches on.

Regulus makes a sound he didn’t know he was capable of, clutching harder at James.

Who responds with a rough hum of his own, pulling them closer together with his strong arm around Regulus’ waist.

“James,” Regulus breathes, one hand coming up to his neck. “James.”

The older boy makes a noise to show either his attention or his displeasure at being disrupted, Regulus isn’t really sure.

And then James lays his tongue out flat and licks a stripe up the side of Regulus’ throat.

The absolute animal. Disgusting, heinous, damning, irritatingly sexy, stupid man.

Somebody call the Ministry and tell them Santa is real because it must be a miracle that Regulus doesn’t pass out from that on the fucking spot.

He does however let yet another moan slip he cannot help and then tries tugging James back. “Ok, ok, James. That– that’s enough.”

This seems not to fit into James’ aka Mister Eager and Enthusiastuc’s agenda going off of the pained noise he lets out against Regulus’ throat.

That is until Regulus speaks again.

Because he’s reached some kind of epiphany or maybe a deja vu of sorts because the second James’ tongue had made contact with Regulus’ skin all he could think was, “My turn.”

James stills against him, draws back, wide eyed and hazy looking with his stupid big baby cow brown eyes and Regulus doesn’t let himself think about it but instead moves right in.

Doesn’t really bother with niceties as he immediately presses his lips to the edge of James’ jaw. The stubble prickles slightly and James makes a wheezing noise, head rolling to the side.

Regulus’ lips lift into a smile, chest burning and an excited shiver whacking through him at James’ reaction.

He smells spicy and musky and salty so Regulus mimics the path down.

Until he can’t help himself anymore and open his mouth to finally taste.

It’s glorious, sweat and citrus and James, the boy over him moaning at an indecent volume.

James curses, sounding breathless, “Regs.”

Regulus responds by sucking at the patch of skin again,

“Fuck, please– Yes, so good.” James babbles, “You’re so good, so sweet. So good to me.”

Then there’s fingers driving through the short curls at the back of Regulus’ head and he pants against James before leaning in and letting himself use his teeth.

Just graze but James makes another one of those obscene noises, half moan half curse and then the fingers in his hair are clenching.

Keeping Regulus in place for James to chase his mouth again. Fed up, seemingly, with having to stay still. Or too overwhelmed, Regulus doesn’t care because James is pressing their lips together again and it’s heaven.

Regulus hears the angels sing, the bells jingle. Christmas magic.

He lets out a satisfied noise, arching closer and then, because James is rude and always ruins it, he moves back.

“Wait, wai–” cuts off when Regulus steals another kiss, grip iron on James’ neck, “Reg, love.”

Regulus lifts down from the balls of his feet with an incredulous noise, raising his brows impatiently at James.

This one’s eyes flit all over his face for a moment and Regulus instantly becomes hyper aware of the way his cheeks feel warm and his lips swollen.

“Come to Hogsmeade with me on Saturday,” James mutters.

“No,” Regulus answers reflexively. And moves in to get another kiss.

Which James breaks again.

Regulus huffs. He’s starting to get irritated.

James takes his chin between thumb and forefinger. “Go on a date with me,” he starts, a tone in his voice before he licks into Regulus mouth again. For just a moment before he adds, “Or you’ll have to wait for another mistletoe to catch us to kiss me.”

And– hold on a second.

“Pardon?” Regulus inquires, trying to blink the haze out of his head.

James gives another quick kiss to Regulus’ slack mouth, smiling faintly, “You heard me.”

“You actually think you can blackmail me this way?”

“Christmas season is only for another few days, love,” James counters. “The mistletoes will be gone before you can say Chinese Chomping Cabbage.”

Regulus bites the inside of his cheek for a moment.

“What if I say yes?”

There’s a flash of teeth with James’ lips curling up at the corner and then he’s moving in again, tilting back Regulus’ head.

Regulus gasps into the kiss, with the way James is brushing their still spit slick lips together.

James hums when Regulus fingers find their way onto the front of James’ practice long sleeve. It’s low and rumbly, and Regulus feels it where their chests are pressed together, prompting him to make a high pitched noise of his own.

James draws it out this time with a few more slower sweet kisses, leaving Regulus all jittery.

“This has happened for the third time now,” James says conspiratorially, toying with a curl at Regulus’ ear.

“So?” Regulus huffs.

James hums, “You know what they say, Regs.”

Regulus shudders, making James lips lift.

“Once is happenstance, twice is barely a coincidence and trice is fa—”

Regulus is already rounding the corner, fleeing, as his ears gleam crimson.

“You can't run from it, Reg! Tis the season of love!” James calls after him, cackling. “See you Saturday morning!”

#FATE #LET UR MAN SPEAK HIS TRUTH REG #jegulus #christmas fic #christmas fluff #jegulus fanfiction #jegulus fic #regulus black #james potter #starchaser #sunseeker #jegulus microfic #james potter x regulus black #regulus black x james potter #lune’s tiny fic

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wednesdayismyfunday · 1 year

Text

The last sip

Summary : Tommy and y/n are childhood friends and both want more .

Warnings : mentions of drinking . Swearing . Smut . No story line . Not enough metaphors

Pairings : Tommy Shelby x y/n

It was a hard day . Tommy was in desperate need of a drink . He went to the living room to find his golden nectar. He was ready to leave his troubles in a bottle . As he walked in he saw yn and an empty bottle of bourbon. She had a glass in her hand with bourbon in it . Tommy watched with horror when he saw yn tip the bourbon out the window . Y/n had taken it upon her self to look after Tommy . They had been childhood friends then lost contact after Tommy went to war . Yn came back into Tommy’s life when John died . She saw how much he needed someone to care for him. Even if he didn’t want it .

“ what the f**k are you doing ?” Tommy yelled. Y/n turned to face Tommy . No sign of fear or regret on her face.

“ I am tired of you drinking until you pass out. You have a child and a family . Grow up Tommy , this drinking thing is so childish. Alcohol isn’t gonna fix your problems.” Yn spat .

“ Is this all because I kissed you last night.” Tommy replied. Tommy got drunk and kissed Yn .

“ Yes. It is Tommy . You treat people like trash . Then you expect them to treat you like a hero. You kissed me and then told me I am not worth it . That I was a waste of a kiss.” Yn yelled .

“ I was drunk Y/n. I didn’t mean it.” Tommy yelled back.

“ You still said it . I can only imagine what you say to the rest of the family when you have been drinking.” Y/n spat.

“ They don’t see me drunk. It’s only you. You’re the only one who sticks around.” Tommy said .

“They don’t stick around because you keep hurting them Tommy.” Yn said gently . Tommy sighed and walked to a couch. He put his head in his hands and mumbled.

“ How do I stop ?” Yn walked to Tommy and put her hand on his shoulder.

“ Well for starters let’s get rid of the alcohol.” Y/n whispered .

“ Then?” Tommy said. He looked up at Y/n who still had her hand on his shoulder. She knelt down and moved her hand to his cheek.

“ Let someone in.” Y/n held Tommy’s gaze . Trying to read his expression. He was quite for a while. Trying to process the right thing to say. Tommy looked at y/n then back down to the ground . He too in a deep breath and spoke.

“ The kiss wasn’t a waste because it was with you, it was a waste because I had done it drunk. You are worth more then a drunk kiss. I should have kissed you under the stars or near a fire. It should have been different . I am sorry.” Tommy explained . He moved closer to y/n and pulled her into his lap. She didn’t say a word , too scared it would ruin the moment. He closed his eyes and leaned into the couch . Y/n let a smile slip out . She moved closer so that her mouth hovered over Tommy’s .

“ You smell like bread.” Tommy muttered . Y/n laughed and nudged Tommy .

“ Aren’t you supposed to be a smooth talker? What kind of foreplay is that?” Y/n said smiling. Tommy opened his eyes and laughed . He had meant it to sound soothing , maybe he had lost his touch.

“ I mean you smell like bread in the oven.” Tommy corrected himself . Y/n laughed once more . Tommy started laughing with yn . They laughed until tears formed . Tommy had no idea how to tell her that when he smells bread it reminds him of her . It was warmth and home . Every time he tried to get it out they burst into laughter .

“ Ok , ok Tommy . Will you stop trying to seduce me with all this bread talk and just kiss me already .” Y/n said. Tommy moved his hand towards her face and pulled her in for a kiss . It was a kiss they would remember for years to come. Filled with love and passion . Tommy held her so close he could feel her heart beating . He gentle pushed her away making y/n concerned. He gently moved his hands to her blouse , slowly unbuttoning each button with shaking hands . Tommy had never felt so nervous before . Y/n put her hand over his and took over . Once she finished taking her blouse off . She pushed Tommy further into the couch . She stood up and took her skirt off . Leaving her in her underwear . Tommy took a deep breath and covered his face with his hands .

“ You make me so nervous,” Tommy mumbled through his hands. Y/n moved forward and kissed Tommy’s hand. Tommy moved his hands and pulled yn in for another kiss. This time with hunger and passion. Y/n moaned into the kiss. Tommy no longer nervous started stripping his clothes off, leaving him in his underwear. Yn sat on Tommy again and started grinding against his length. Tommy began pushing Yn further onto him so they could feel each other through their underwear. He had never felt this good from just rubbing onto someone. He desperately needed more.

" Tommy please," Y/n begged. She didn't even know what she was begging for, all she knew was that she needed him.

" Darling , tell me what you want." Tommy whispered.

" I need you to be in me. Please. " Yn begged. Tommy lifted yn and moved her so she was lying on her back. He gently took off her underwear. Y/n wiggled underneath Tommy. Tommy held on to y/n by the hip. He began kissing her inner thigh. Slowly making his way to her core. Y/n moaned at the sensation. Still needing more.

" Tommy please," Y/n begged again.

" What a desperate girl," Tommy said. He stood up and took off his underwear. He pushed himself into her . Both eliciting a moan at the sensation. He began slow, letting yn get used to his size. Then when she began begging he moved faster. Y/n felt dizzy from Tommy. They made love for hours. Both climaxing multiple times. Years of tension washing away with each thrust. They had made there way to Tommys bedroom and were lying on his bed. They were holding each other, soothing each others muscl. Y/n eyes closed and she sighed contently.

" I love you."

" I love you too."

#tommy shelby fluff #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby smut #fan fiction #thomas shelby x reader #fanfic #peaky blinder fanfic

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finalmemes · 1 year

Text

THE LOST BOYS. roleplay sentence starters of the 1987 film. feel free to edit according to scenario / pronouns. tw: violence, language, horror, blood.

hey, i liked that song.

how about this?

wait, that's from my era!

what's that smell?

smells like someone died.

i think you're really going to like living in [ location ].

any jobs around here?

looks like he's dead.

if he's dead can we go back to [ location ]?

this is a pretty cool place / for the texas chainsaw massacre.

have you seen a tv? i haven't seen a tv, [ name ]. you know what it means when there's no tv? no mtv.

[ name ], we are flat broke.

no running in the house!

rules! we've got some rules around here.

there are some bad elements around here.

you're telling me we've moved to the murder capital of the world?

well, let me put it this way. if all the corpses buried around here were to stand up all at once, we'd have one hell of a population problem.

read the tv guide, you don't need a tv.

excuse me, i wonder if you could help us.

we only come here to watch one thing.

i told you not to come in here anymore.

you have a generous nature. i like that in a person.

so how may i help you this evening? we have it all. the best selection in [ location ].

i look that needy, huh?

i'm at the mercy of your sex glands!

don't you have something better to do than follow me around all night?

just scoping your civilian wardrobe.

pretty cool, huh? / for a fashion victim.

listen buddy, if you're looking for the diet frozen yogurt bar, it went out of business last summer.

where the hell are you from? krypton?

i don't like horror comics.

i thought i heard something.

nobody drives this baby but me.

that's as close to town as i like to get.

noticed anything unusual about [ location ] yet?

are you guys sniffing old newsprint or something?

you think you really know what's happening here, don't you? well, i'll tell you something. you don't know shit, buddy.

we are dedicated to a higher purpose. we're fighters for truth, justice, and the american way.

there's our number on the back and pray you never need to call us.

if you want your ear pierced, i'll do it.

wanna get something to eat?

you don't have to beat me, [ name ]. you just have to try and keep up.

how far are you willing to go, [ name ]?

that's what i love about this place. you ask, and then you get.

i can never sleep with the closet door open, either. not even a crack.

don't sneak up on people like that!

how are those maggots?

you're eating maggots. how do they taste?

no hard feelings, huh?

you're one of us, bud.

[ 1st name ] wants to know what's going on. [ 2nd name ], what's going on?

bottoms up, man.

what time is it?

you need sunglasses to talk on the phone?

are you freebasing? inquiring minds want to know.

are you still in bed?

[ name ], would you do me a favor?

it's been a long time since somebody asked me out to dinner.

i'm gonna make you a sandwich.

all you do is give attitude lately.

what did you do to my dog, asshole?

you're a creature of the night, [ name ]. just like out of a comic book.

you're a vampire, [ name ]. my own [ sibling ], a goddamn shit-sucking vampire. you wait 'til mom finds out!

stay away from me, [ name ]!

you did the right thing by calling us.

you better get yourself a garlic t-shirt, buddy. or it's your funeral.

[ name ], i think we have to have a real long talk about something.

what's going on there? [ name ], i'm starting to get worried.

we should stay calm.

who's making that noise?

we've got to stick together, [ name ].

we're gonna work this out. trust me, okay?

you had me scared to death.

i can't believe you people.

can i sleep in here with you tonight?

what's happening to me, [ name ]?

we've been aware of some very serious [ creature ] activity in town for a long time.

[ location ] has become a haven for the undead.

as a matter of fact, we're almost certain that ghouls and werewolves occupy high position at city hall.

kill your brother. you'll feel better.

are we gonna have company again?

hi, i didn't hear you come in!

[ name ], what's the matter with you?

what's gotten into you tonight?

our batting average isn't terrific, is it?

if you ever want to see [ name ] again, you better come with us now.

initiation's over, [ name ]. time to join the club.

i have to talk to you. can i come up?

you drank someone's blood? are you crazy?!

why didn't you kill me last night?

what are you doing here? what do you want from me?

i got connections.

i don't want you going down there.

if something happens down there, i won't have the strength to protect you.

chill out, [ name ].

where did you say you met these guys?

we're on the right trail. flies and the undead go together like bullets and guns.

this isn't funny.

i'm not kidding! they're coming to the house as soon as it gets dark!

i better get cleaned up, then.

they'll be coming for all of us.

i say we terminate them right now.

you missed, sucker.

holy shit! it's the attack of eddie munster!

you afraid to face me, [ name ]?

don't let them see me like this.

nothing's changed.

has everyone gone crazy? what's the matter with all of you?

is everybody okay?

how much do you think we should charge them for this?

one thing about living in [ location ] i never could stomach. all the damn vampires.

#horror sentence starters #rp sentence starters #rp memes #writing prompts #horror prompts #the lost boys sentence starters #film sentence starters

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hyperfixat · 8 months

Text

sun and moon rpg au that i forgot to post here for like a year >.< ~4000 words

this was written at the peak of world of warcraft hyperfixation btw

Healers are vital to parties and guilds. It’s rare to find one on their own, unclaimed. Priests and Druids tend to be weaker when it comes to fighting, seeing as it wasn’t what they trained for.

You’re a Priest, on the low end of the average level of the humans and beasts around you. In the Hollowed Woods, beasts range from the thirties to the fifties. Your current leveling placed you at a thirty-five.

Your base is set up in a secluded area of the edge of the woods, near the beginning of a small creek. The only beasts you had to deal with were in the lower thirties; Vengeful Sprites, Were-Hounds, and the stray Fiery Spirit. Very rarely did parties run through your spot in the woods, with their numbers they charge into the deep.

There is safety in numbers, you knew this, and you had previously been in a small guild. Three Paladins, two mages, a warrior, and you. During an adventure in the Barren Lands, you’d failed as a healer. The party fought a Dessert Tumbler, they fought well, but you couldn’t heal them quick enough. Both Mages and two of the Paladins fell before the three of you remaining turned tail and ran.

After the monster had cleared you went back to the spot of the fight and tried your hardest to resurrect your friends, but your Mana kept faltering before you could bring them back.

From there you’d fought your way to the Hollowed Woods, a place you knew you could probably survive alone.

You’re too scared of failure to join another party or guild. At first there were offers from groups of humans traveling through, but soon word traveled and some became resentful that you were greedy. A Priest keeping their oh so desired Magic all to themself.

But humans like those tend to be far and few between.

Morning comes with sunrise and the shuffling of forest critters rushing around, scavenging for food and avoiding their predators. The sounds of the woods wake you as always.

Your morning routine consists of filling your flask at the creek’s edge and splashing some of the cool on your face. You don your usual armor, a simple cloth cloak, and you tuck your dagger into the small sheath in your pocket.

There’s no point in carrying a wand with you, Magic comes from within. Besides, wands are expensive. It would take a month's worth of pelts to get you the money that you’d need to buy one. Money gets spent on supplies and repairs, important things.

The weather is pleasant, warm spring air. Sunlight shines down through the tree branches creating intricate patterns on the floor of the woods.

The sound of rustling from a bush a couple yards away disrupts you from filling your flask. Your head flies up at the sound, expecting a deer or rabbit.

A Warrior, brandishing two large silver maces, covered in blood stumbles into your view. They haven’t seen you yet, so you duck behind a tree to observe the warrior.

They’re panting, staring into the direction they’d run from, maces shaking in their hands. When they take a moment to glance around, your blood chills. You know this fighter.

Raphael was once an ally, he was kind to you, and supplied occasional companionship. After a few weeks of friendship, he kept pressuring you to join his party. After you declined about a million times, he grew resentful. Raphael fought you, hurt you. He said if he ever found you again, you’d be dead.

Raphael looks to have lost his party. From the brush a long thin hand reaches through, grasping the thin branches of the bush and pushing them aside to stick a head through.

You’ve never seen anything like the monster. A large circular face with a large, cruel grin, one side a waxing moon, colored a deep gray, the other a dark, midnight blue. Upon the Lovecraftian horror’s head perched a beat up, torn nightcap decorated with stars.

The monster stalked Raphael, its large eyes glowing a bright red. Raphael backed up into the clearing and the monster followed, revealing a long humanoid body. You couldn’t recognize the clothing it wore, too unfamiliar with the deeper woods.

Raphael readied himself in preparation for the attack. The monster lunged at him and Raphael attempted to dislodge the monster’s path with his weapons, but he only threw his own body to the side. He stumbled and in the moment of weakness he was pinned.

You watch with bated breath as the monster’s slender hands wrapped around Raphael’s throat and held. It looked up around the tree tops, and you did too.

In the branches of one of the thicker trees crouched another creature akin to the one currently holding Raphael captive. This monster however was yellow with orange triangular rays shooting out around its head.

The monster on the ground’s head twisted 360degrees unnaturally spinning from its base at the neck. The voice that comes out of the beast is deep and scratchy as it calls to its partner up above, “he’s down, Sunny.”

The beast in the trees climbs down with the skill of an acrobat. As he descends you see that this beast is scratched all along its yellow chest, a thick deep blue oozes out of the gashes slowly. Sunny, its partner had called it, approached Raphael with caution.

Once the solar beast was in Raphael’s line of sight, he began struggling with a renewed vigor. The lunar beast hissed at him and he stilled.

Sunny’s large grin never faltered as he glared down at Raphael.

“You wish to fight me like a true warrior would?” Sunny mocked, voice warbled, yet sweet like honey. “Let him up, Moon.”

Moon stepped up and off of the struggling human, who quickly scampered away and backed against a tree.

Sunny’s head turned to an angle a little less than natural. “Come on, little human this is what you wanted, is it not?”

Raphael’s eyes went everywhere, as soon as he recognized the small shadow of your hut in the woods he cried out desperately for you. His voice was broken and dry as he sobbed your name.

You stiffened at the call. Of course he’d come crawling back in his time of need, begging to not be sent to the Other Side. You aren’t going to help him, and you don’t even feel bad about it. When the humanoids send him away, he’ll waste away into the ground for a week before he’ll resurrect.

From the brush where the fighters had come from, a Mage ran through. All eyes flicked to her, she licked her dry lips and froze as the two monsters stared at her. She quickly began casting a spell, blue magic swirling between her hands. Moon approaches her, leaving Sunny to the Warrior.

The pairs began to fight, Moon and the Mage’s fight was much more eventful, the two seeming uninjured. You were in a daze as their fight distracted you, a whirl of different shades of blues. You hear a shriek from the other pair and see that Raphael had thrown one of his maces at Sunny, hitting him in his chest, dead center.

Raphael was beginning to heal and gain energy the more he sat still and rested, Sunny was going to lose. Moon’s fight wouldn’t end for a long while.

It was a spur of the moment decision as you began a quick Rejuvenation spell to send to Sunny. As soon as the sparkly green Magic appeared around it, Sunny looked around for the source, but upon seeing no one turned back to Raphael.

Their fight continued on a more even playing field and after about ten minutes of the sound of grunting and hissing coming from both groups, Sunny and Moon reigned victorious. They had, to your distaste, consumed some of their opponents' remains after winning.

You continued to stay behind your tree and waited for the deep forest beasts to return to their home, but to your horror, they began searching around for the mysterious source of healing Sunny claimed it had felt mid-fight.

The two separated and began their hunt for you. You were stuck if you ran they’d see you; if you stood like an idiot behind a tree they’d find you. Who’s to say they won’t kill you as well?

Moon was coming in your direction, head spinning a continuous 180, side to side.

The leaves of the forest floor crunched as he wove between the trees, and all too soon his red eyes landed on you.

“Healer?” Its tone was softer than it had been in battle.

You, in a panic, glanced back in the direction of your house before thinking better of running. You nodded at Moon. It’s tall, much taller than you, and deadly as you had seen.

“Thank you. I’m not sure why you did what you did, but you are in my and Sun’s debt.” It bowed at you, silly hat jingling as it did so.

He turned to the direction Sun had gone and shouted for it.

The yellow counterpart quickly ran over to where you and Moon stood. You shrunk back a little as Sun stopped in front of you.

“Thank you, little healer.” Just like Moon, its tone softened and sincerity bleed through his words.

You meekly nodded with wide, shy eyes.

“You’re welcome to our part of the forest anytime, Priest.” Sun began saying as he untied one of the jingling bracelets on his wrist and held it out to you. “Make sure you purposely shake this a couple times and me and Moon will escort you to safety.”

And with that the two were off, not even gleaning your name.

Deep within the Hollowed Woods, Sun and Moon reside in a humble treehouse decked with mere necessities. They lie upon their shared bed thoughts of you in their minds. Why would a human help them? They’re natural enemies.

The Warrior and Mage they’d defeated crossed their minds as well, did you know them? Were you at war with their group? You had been alone, so surely you wouldn’t wage a war by yourself.

They’d help you if you were to fight, a sweet little Priest that helped them out.

Sun recounted his side of the day aloud, describing the cool chill that your healing had done. He said it was like a cup of ice water on a hot summer’s day.

They hoped you called for them soon.

You grasp Sun’s bracelet in your hand, observing it. The red linen was heavy in your hand as you pondered the implications of calling the monsters back to you. They were so large compared to you, easily two to three feet taller than you. The image of their hands bloodied with blood of your kin as they ate flashed through your mind.

What if you called them at a bad time, when they were much too hungry? Maybe turn on you, not that they wouldn’t attack in any other scenario.

With a trembling hand you tucked the bangle into your pocket, securing it. You don’t want to have to call for the monsters, but emergencies will be emergencies.

The next few weeks went by quietly. You managed to hunt a boar down, meat and leather that would provide you with food and money for a couple weeks.

Summer days were the loudest of the year, animals, monsters, and humans alike wandered the woods more in the pleasant weather. With the travelers came enemies, of course.

Rouges are stealthy, quiet, and blend in with their surroundings well. The ambient noise of wildlife is calming and you’re relaxing against the river bank. A small rustle came from across the clearing. You get a sense of deja vu for the incident a couple weeks ago.

You lean up with your hands supporting you as a figure looks around the environment. They spot you and pull a dagger from their waistband. You scramble to your feet. They’re rapidly approaching you, posture hostile and aggressive.

You’re frozen as they charge toward you and grab you by your neck.

You’re pushed against their body with the knife dull against your throat, pressing in. Your chest is rising and falling rapidly.

“You’re gonna come with me and help me out a little, okay? This can be easy or hard, Priest.” Their breath is hot in your ear and you repress a shudder.

You nod your head rapidly, fear coursing through your veins. “I’ll do what you need.”

“Good,” a curt response and they pick you up by your waist and throw you over their shoulder. Temporarily out of breath you stare at the ground as the Rouge begins walking back into the deep of the woods.

The trip isn’t long, maybe five minutes. The sounds of battle greets you and you struggle to look up and see what’s happening around you. Unceremoniously you hit the ground as you’re dropped. The Rouge looms above you and gives you a simple command.

“Heal them.”

You look at the fight, two Warriors, a Hunter, and a wolf (probably the Hunter’s pet). The humans look rough, but the large bird-like Screecher they’re fighting doesn’t look much better.

With the command and still standing threat holding you down, you begin to cast heals onto the fighters. The fight goes on and with your help the party manages to take down the bird.

You stand to your feet, legs shaking a bit from the Mana excursion it took to keep the group in good health. You turn from the fight, in the direction of your home, but before you can even take another step the Rouge reaches out for you.

“Ya know we’ve been needing a healer. You’re mighty useful, Priest. Might just need to keep you around for a bit.”

You shake your head side to side, no, you don’t want to join these people. You don’t know them and one of their party practically kidnapped you. “Thank you, but I really-,” you can’t finish your nervous declination.

“We weren’t asking, Priest. Make yourself useful; we’ve seen you hoard your Magic to yourself.” The Hunter sneers at you, the wolf sitting by his side, staring you down.

“Greedy bitch (and or) bastard.” One of the Warriors jeers at you. The other warrior, a tall, busty woman sneers at you and walks closer to your shaky form. She grabs the back of your neck and inspects your face. Eyes emotionless as she does so.

You stare back at her long face and she leans back from you to return and sit next to her fellow Warrior.

As you fill with dread, you remember something. Sun’s bell.

The ribbon is still in your pocket!

As inconspicuous as you can manage you slip your hand into your robe’s pocket and grab the small metal bell and as quiet as you can shake it a couple times.

Luckily none of your captor seem to have realized you did anything. They’re sitting around the corpse of their kill, some holding pieces of bread or bottles of water. They chat mildly like they aren’t in the middle of kidnapping a healer.

You aren’t sure how the bell in your pocket works or how soon Sun or Moon will get to you, but God you hope it’s soon.

It’s been almost a month with no call from you, no summon, no nothing. A few times Sun felt the bell with you jingle, but he always deflates when he realizes that it wasn’t a call, merely a jostle from you. Moon can’t feel the bell, but his chest aches for a call from the strange human healer.

Sun shoots up from his bed and Moon flinches back at the sudden jump.

“They called!”

Moon quickly gets to his feet, and stares at Sun.

“For real?”

“For real.” Sun’s permanent smile seems even brighter if possible.

“Lead the way, lead the way,” Moon urges quickly.

The duo make their way into the forest, heading in the direction they had found you last, at least that’s where they assumed they were going. About a quarter mile from the place you had met Sun stops. He tilts his head to the side, sensing where his bell is. Moon hesitates.

Nevertheless they head where the bell called from, slowing as they approach a group of humans. They know you’re there, but can’t recognize the other people with you. You’re shifting uncomfortably as an outcast from the group.

Sun and Moon felt a surge of wariness. Not at you, never at you, but these other humans… they seemed mean. You didn’t look like you wanted to be there, surely that’s why you called for them.

A bit hurt that you would only call in a time of dire need, a bit happy that you felt they could help you. Sun walks broad into the clearing as Moon slips away to get to you.

Sun bursts into the clearing where you stood, turning to face the humans with a snarl. Relief floods you as you realize he came. A hand on your shoulder makes you flinch and you turn to see Moon. He’s staring down at you, eyes emanating a soft red. He scans your form checking for any injuries. His gloved hand reaches to your neck.

The knife must’ve bruised you, you thought mildly as you get lost in letting Moon check you over for injuries. The sound of Sun fighting in the background isn’t on your mind as Moon rubs his thin fingers over your marks. To check on you, he has to crouch to reach your height, and it’s a bit embarrassing.

Too soon for your taste Moon pulls away to join the fight. You don’t seem to mind the humans destruction.

The whole group is yelling at you, shouting curses, and other foul things, telling you to heal them. Your mana is pretty low, but you weren’t going to help them in any way.

Sun and Moon are holding up well against the humans, which is good. You take the time to sit and try to regain what Magic strength you can.

After about five minutes you split-cast a Rejuvenation spell on Sun and Moon. From there their movements get stronger, and the fight quickly ends.

They’re dirty, the both of them, covered in blotches of blood, but they’re grinning at you so joyously. Like dogs expecting praise from a master.

You’re still cross legged on the ground and you have to look up to meet their eyes. Sun and Moon are ungodly large, at least nine feet tall. Sun is swaying in his place and he’s breathing heavily as he stares right at you.

“Did we do good to you, little healer?” Sun prompted.

You gaze up at them with mild disbelief, but you manage to respond. “Thank— Thank you for coming for me.”

“Oh, we’ve been dying to see you again!” Sun responded, dropping down into a crouch so he was at about half his height, still a foot larger than you. His hand, still with some tiny splotches of blood on it, reaches out to cup your face. He’s staring at you like you hung the stars in the sky.

After a moment of just letting your face be held, Moon drops down to your level as well.

“You’ll come with us for tonight, right? We’ve missed you so.” Moon speaks up. His voice is at the meekest you’ve heard from him.

You bite your lip, in thought. They saved you, spared you. Yet you know nothing of these two. They ate people. Their level wasn’t known to you, and they showed such strength in battle. They’re kind to you.

“Okay.”

They both brighten immediately. Sun and Moon each move to grasp one of your arms and assist you to your feet. You’re grateful for the help, still weak from lack of Mana.

They help you through the depths of the forest, reassuring your safety. It gets darker and darker as you travel. You’ve never been this far away from home nor so deep into danger. Without Sun and Moon you’d be dead meat. Mild fright grips your heart as you’re gently led through the dark.

At some point a Wild Thorn Beast attempts to attack you and your friends (maybe allies, what were you to them?). Sun and Moon growl at the beast and their grips on your upper arms tighten, not looking to start another fight. When the Thorn Beast realizes you won’t make an easy meal, it quickly scampers off.

Your heart is still thumping wildly in your chest from that encounter.

Sun and Moon reside in a large treehouse, small star shaped bots line the way up to the front door like decorative lights. You’re passed back and forth between Sun and Moon as they climb their way up to the entrance.

The inside of their hovel is dim, and slightly dirty, but better than most monsters have.

“I’m sure it’s not as nice as your home, but I hope it’ll be enough for now.” Sun spoke sheepishly.

“Thank you, for a lot of things,” you spoke quietly. “This is quite wild from my point of view. I don’t quite understand what’s going on.”

Moon grabs your hand and leads you over to one of the two discolored mattresses on the floor. Both him and you sit down on the soft, limp thing.

“You helped us, and that is… rare. Never have we met a human quite like you. For your help we wish to thank you, and you’re one of a kind. We don’t wish to lose you.”

Sun sat across from you on the other mattress. “Besides, you’re such a lovely little human, and the others out there don’t seem to appreciate that.”

“You don’t have to heal us if you don’t wish to,” Moon added. “However I do hope you stay in contact with us.”

“But why not just get rid of me? I'm at such a low level compared to you two.”

Moon and Sun shifted uncomfortably at that suggestion. “That means nothing to us, your level. And I wouldn’t dream of hurting you when you’ve helped us so.” Sun counters you quickly.

From beside you, you can sense Moon’s own Mana at work and when you look over you can see he’s revealed all of his stats to you. Health, Mana, Level, and Energy. His Health is about ninety percent full, along with his Mana. His Energy is about three quarters of the way full, and his Level you can’t even decipher.

When anyone or anything’s Level is over ten levels higher than you own, you can’t figure out what it is, and in place of a number simply a skull lies.

“I can’t read your Level, Moon.” You’re shy to say it, but his hand simply comes to lay on your shoulder.

“I figured as much, it’s a fifty.” Moon is as quiet as you.

Oh, that’s… high.

“But that’s good, right, little healer? We can defend you against any beast in the forest.” Sun’s face twists one-twenty degrees as he asks.

“You’re protecting me.” Spoken like a question, but a statement. Fact.

You’re in a bit of a trancelike shock. The rest of the night, you’re treated with care and soft hands. Cuddled up in Moon’s arms like a rag doll, you fall asleep.

The adventures of tomorrow are unknown, yet you know you’re going to be just fine with Sun and Moon on your side.

#fnaf sun #fnaf moon #moon x reader #sun x reader #dca x reader #dca au #daycare attendant x reader #fnaf au #rpg au #verified hyperfixat post #sundrop x reader #moondrop x reader #sun x y/n #moon x y/n

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