#the way he would either be unscathed always or fuck up bad enough to need the ER no in between so the whole crew is like FUCK drives him
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The Goemon
#smug goemon for fucking ever I LOVE HIM JEFBWJND#lupin iii#goemon ishikawa xiii#tweets you would read from lupin or jigen so easily#this is cool too cause goemon really does know and do blacksmithing one time he made his own sword (episode sucked but still)#lupin iii meme#the way he would either be unscathed always or fuck up bad enough to need the ER no in between so the whole crew is like FUCK drives him#*gets his scary gross half a shoulder muscle re-attached again perfectly* classic goemon#mine#meme
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Since you're open for requests, how about a MC who cannot die no matter how much you try? The anime my sister was watching yesterday (I think it's Rezero or Re:zero, I'm not sure which one) had a character like this, apparently she comes back out of nowhere each time you kill her, no matter how. It's kinda creepy, but I think a MC like this would be very interesting!
MC Just Can't Be Killed! (Feat. The Demon Bros)
(Took some liberties on this one and tweaked it so MC just conveniently manages to escape with their life-)
Lucifer
He knew something was up the moment you first avoided being killed by Levi-
He thought it was dumb luck and pure chance that you could always talk your way out of things, or how you were always rescued by someone. But then he started getting suspicious.
How can you, a human, possibly survive so long? Not that he’d allow you do die while under his care, but even HE was impressed when you managed to bounce back from being clapped into the shadow realm by Belphie.
And then you just... kept narrowly escaping death. You crawled out of the jaws of Cerberus, completely unscathed. You tripped on a path (with Mammon) and went tumbling down a hill... and off a cliff. Yet when he went to get you, you were fine. You ate Solomon's cooking and lived to tell the tale.
What are you.... he demands answers...
Mammon
Probably?? Doesn't notice for a REALLY long time how many brushes with death you've had. Literally thinks your survival is all thanks to his great supervision skills.
When in reality, he's sometimes the cause of a few of your mishaps. Like the other day, when he playfully tripped you on your way out, and thought he fucking murdered you.
And the time he let you help him advertise a shady 'youth potion', and a couple of demons thought you were part of a promotional sampling platter.
How you were still in one piece after all of this was beyond him but hey, he's not asking questions! As long as you're alive, Mammon is a-ok!
Though, he seriously wants to know how you survived that thing with Cerberus. Can you give a guy some tips on how to avoid teeth-induced puncture wounds?
Levi
What kind of infinity lives glitch are you exploiting and how did you implement it in real life-
Levi knows a hacker when he sees one and he's NOT letting you off the hook. The moment he realizes that you haven't died despite being manhandled in every sense of the word, he's watching you.
But also hella thankful?? He wouldn't know what to do if you ACTUALLY died.
It's probably because you're so amazing that you keep managing to do impossible stuff, huh? As expected of his best friend!
Still lowkey worried though, and tries convincing you that you're less likely to die if you just stay in his room with him all the time.
Satan
Inch resting....
Satan would definitely notice right away that you seem practically unkillable, considering how you walked away from every single brother completely unscathed.
You were a human, attending a school for demons, sometimes completely unsupervised, and you were STILL alive?? Yeah, some thorns me not adding up.
He would purposely lead you into dangerous situations, just to watch in awe as you get out of it without so much as a paper cut. Until he starts catching feelings, of course.
As interesting as it is to test out your lucky abilities, the anxiety that swells in Satan's chest when he sees you doing something dangerous is enough to make him want to protect you. Isn't it safer to just sit down and enjoy a good book?
Asmo
Asmo literally tried putting you in Lucifer's way in the beginning so you'd get hurt, so he definitely notices how not hurt you are after a while.
But now that he loves you, all's well that ends well! He's sooo glad Lucifer didn't tear you apart like he thought he was going to! Mwah mwah, no hard feelings ❤️
Seriously though, how the hell are you managing that?? You keep being tricked into eating things they're poisonous to humans, and the most that happens to you is bad indigestion. And that time Asmo forgot the hot springs were too hot for you? Yeah, somehow you didn't die that time, either.
What were you made out of??? Were you secretly magical like Solomon and didn't tell anyone?? Or maybe you were super lucky???
Does that mean you're especially sturdy? If so, then maybe he could introduce you to a few "activities" that are bound to keep you out of trouble~
Beel
What have you been eating that's making you so sturdy?? Actually, what HAVEN'T you eaten at this point..? The fact that you didn't die after eating Solomon's cooking is enough to tell Beel that you might not need his protection.
Though, that doesn't stop him from following you around. Even if you miraculously bounce back every time, he's getting kind of worried for like.. your overall health?
At this point he's tempted to just zip you up in his jacket to keep you safe. You're like a danger magnet and it's giving him anxiety.
He doesn't mind your adventurous side, but can't you slow down a little? At least make sure he's with you when you decide to do something risky.
If he feeds you enough, you'll get tired and just want to rest. That'll keep you out of trouble. So get ready, because Beel's bringing over a ton of desserts from Madame Scream's.
Belphie
Yeah uhhhhh he was fucking SHOOK when you came back from the dead after he clearly sent you to heaven with his bare hands??
So yeah. He's convinced you're unkillable for now. But as curious as he is to test those limits, he's realized that you're off limits as far as killing goes. And he might.. like you a little too much to try anything.
Just kidding. He makes it known that he likes you, and once you're comfortable with it, he'll make jokes about how you're immortal. Maybe you're a demon in disguise? Or an angel even?
Doesn't make it known, but he quietly watches over you to make sure you don't kill yourself through one of the millions of ways to die that the Devildom offers for free. Might not be the best bodyguard since he falls asleep all the time, but he's doing his best.
You know what would really keep you out of trouble? Napping with him. So every time you even think about something risky, he's dragging you off to the attic for some quality z's.
#obey me#obey me shall we date#shall we date obey me#obey me!#obey me! shall we date?#shall we date? obey me!#obey me mammon#obey me belphegor#obey me beel#obey me beelzebub#obey me lucifer#obey me satan#obey me levi#obey me leviathan#obey me Asmo#obey me asmodeus#obey me belphie#obey me writing#obey me scenarios#obey me shitposts#obey me imagines#obey me fanfic#swd obey me
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how they use their quirk during sex
navi | masterlist | taglist
thank you to anon for this request
characters ♡ bakugo, kirishima, kaminari, dabi & tamaki
content warning ♡ slapping, electrostimulation, fire play, masturbation, mentions of voyeur, choking, oral (giving + receiving), blood kink, mention of knife play, unconventional organism eating & vagina-having reader - minors dni
katsuki bakugo
♡ he likes to ensure that his slaps leave a mark
♡ just so everyone knows that you’re his
♡ just seeing you all marked up from his explosions and hand just gets him so hard tbh
♡ also, he loves squeezing you - it makes him feel powerful and dominant - so sometimes he just grabs a handful of your tit, squeezes it then proceeds to make you yelp by setting off a lil’ explosion in his hand
♡ he’s no villain, but he definitely wants to hear you scream in pain or pleasure - either or both works
♡ so whenever he is hitting it from behind and you feel a zing through your body after he spanks your thigh, mentally prepare yourself for trouble in regards to sitting down - for the next week or so
♡ it’s a hard thing to do though because he needs to be 100% that he won’t seriously burn you or harm you, or else he literally wouldn’t be able to look himself in the mirror for the rest of...his life
♡ so yeah, if he’s not completely confident in the fact he’ll be able to smack you without burning you, he just won’t do it
♡ also, the little crackles and pops from miniature, involuntary explosions going off as he approaches his climax not only entertain you, but they also drown out his moans
♡ not that he’s ashamed of the sounds he makes - he’s loud and proud - it’s just that the explosions help balance out the noise so it’s not just his grunts echoing throughout the room
♡ plus, they add ambience
eijiro kirishima
♡ he hardens his back to avoid getting scratches on it lol
♡ it’s not that he doesn’t like getting marked up by you or anything, it’s just a hero instinct tbh
♡ but honestly, you like the feeling of your nails digging into his back then suddenly, the skin becomes sniffer around your fingers
♡ sometimes he accidentally employs his quirk while he is choking you because he gets so into it
♡ or just as he is about to slap your thigh/ass
♡ he also has a bad habit of hardening when you are trying to give him hickeys
♡ so yeah, you’ll probably be left with bruises, hand prints and bite mark scattered across your inner thigh and torso after sex with kirishima and he leaves unscathed
♡ also, idk if this is apart of his quirk but his pointy-ass teeth definitely come in handy - especially if you have a blood/biting kink
♡ kiri is willing to go full vampire for you <3
♡ also, you don’t need knives to do knife play with kiri - he is the knife (well, his teeth are)
♡ he says sternly that he doesn’t enjoy knife/blood play but then he gets oddly aroused when drawing blood from your thigh or nibbling at your slit while he eats you out
denki kaminari
♡ i am so sorry but i can’t stop thinking about kami playfully zapping you during sex AAAA
♡ like if you are into electrostimulation- kaminari is basically your sex soulmate
♡ also if you aren’t like super into electrostim but you give consent for him to lightly zap you from time to time, he will take advantage of that
♡ like just as you’re approaching your orgasm, he’ll shock you slightly so your moans are even louder and your pleasure is escalated
♡ or sometimes during the foreplay, when he is just fondling with your breasts, he’ll give it a lil’ zap so you perk up and whine for him
♡ he just loves seeing the way your whole body juts in reactions and how your nipples erect at the shock
♡ whenever he slaps your thigh/ass, it’ll always send somewhat of a current through your body, which arouses you even more
♡ tickles your clit with electric sometimes just to add some flare
♡ he might make you beg for his touch if you’re needy enough, then simply run his charged hand over your body teasingly
♡ but if you’re into full-on electrostimulation, he’s extreme picky about the times he is able to utilise his quirk bc now he’ll have to send larger currents (instead of just lil zaps which i assume are easily to control) so ofc he needs to be in the right headspace or he could potentially harm you and obviously, that’s the last him he wants to do
♡ so yeah, he probably trains his quirk extra to ensure that he can produce exactly the right amount of electricity for you
♡ omg and he is probably into mutual masturbation/voyeur !! bc you are like his goddess so ofc he gets off to seeing you touch yourself even if he isn’t the one providing the pleasure. also it really brings out his inner perv
♡ so if you like to use toys when you masturbate, literally do not worry about any of them running out of charge/battery while you’re pleasuring yourself, kaminari has you covered bb 💅
♡ also, outside of sex he probably playfully zaps you all the time - like if he is standing behind you, he’ll tap your shoulder followed by a little electric shock. which makes you jump and turn around to see him standing, whistling and averting his gaze unsuspectingly
♡ ‘what, kami? and ouch.’
♡ his eyes widened as he inhaled sharply with an offended look on his face, ‘eh, what?! i didn’t do anything!’
♡ you blinked rapidly, ‘who else has an electricity quirk nearby?’
dabi
♡ he mostly uses his quirk during the actual act of peneration
♡ he rarely uses it during foreplay
♡ maybe just to set the mood by using his finger to light the candles on his bedside table or sumn
♡ or, if you’re into fire play, he’ll drag his glowing finger across your chest to trace your curves while leaving a pale marks behind, shooting an erotic burning sensation through your body
♡ or LORD he (lightly) burns his name into your skin !! so everyone knows you are his >:)
♡ i believe that - unlike the other boys - dabi is able to control his quirk pretty well all throughout sex, no matter what mood he is in
♡ so angry make-up sex with added fireplay isn’t completely out of the question
♡ though, he is a bit cruel so if he’s got your ass in his hands while he’s approaching his orgasm, he will purposefully burn marks into your skin
♡ however, everything comes with a price
♡ so although he can control his quirk at almost all times, he does not know how to deal with the aftermath pffft
♡ he’ll look at your bright red ass and how you are struggling to sit down and be like ‘put some aloe vera on it idfk 🤷♂️’
♡ anyway, just expect there to be burn marks on every part of your body that dabi touched
♡ the most painful ones are probably the ones he leave on your hips, while he holds your pretty figure in place and drills into you from behind
♡ or perhaps the ones he makes on the back of your head as he forces you take more of his cock into your mouth
♡ then again, the burns on your neck once he has finished roughly choking you like a slut while pounding into your cunt, were also problematic
♡ but the handprints he leaves on your torso as he feels around the bulge his massive cock makes in your stomach also hurt quite bad
♡ god knows, but you’re just generally in pain after sex with dabi tbh
tamaki amajiki
♡ suneater more like pussyeater amarite
♡ this might be a lil bestiality-esque bc he is like a human who develops features of an animal but like..he is still a human, after all, so he can consent
♡ but anyway, tw for anyone who doesn’t want to read anything of the sort !!
♡ ok, so, let’s get this out of the way first - tentacles 😍 KJVDKFVZDI
♡ he uses them exactly how you imagine he would; he simultaneous holds you down, massages your breast, covers your mouth, chokes you, slithers one up your cunt and one up your ass - just..everything...
♡ like if the tentacles are out, you know you are getting overstimulated that night
♡ also sometimes - if he’s feeling especially bold - he’ll slip one of his tentacles under your skirt while in public then just watch as you desperately try to stifle moans from how good he feels squirming inside you
♡ you both like it a little more than you’d like to admit tbh
♡ also, one time he ate goose just so he could manifest wings and try fuck you mid-air lmao
♡ that would’ve brought a whole new meaning to ‘flying fuck’
♡ unfortunately, it didn’t work as well as he had hoped as his wings couldn’t support both of your weight so it was more like him hovering over the bed while drilling into you from above
♡ it was definitely a new angle though, so you couldn’t complain
♡ he’ll pinch your clit and squeeze your tits with his lobster claws but that’s about it - he generally doesn’t tend to manifest those during sex
♡ one of his dirtiest secrets is that one time, he paid crazy money for a dish with elephant meat in it, in hopes that he’d get a monster cock
♡ (no, the thought never occurred to him that perhaps horse would be a better, cheaper alternative)
♡ bc he highkey has a size kink but you’ve already kinda gotten use to his size so he needed to amp it up...
♡ but no- all he got was a trunk 😭
♡ however, it wasn’t all bad bc at least he made good use of that trunk-
♡ (he shoved it so far up you, he hoped to see it come out your mouth 🥰)
♡ anyway, rapid-fire round:
♡ he once ate rabbit so he could develop bunny ears and a tail so he could be your cute lil’ bunny boy 🥺 while you peg him
♡ buffalo wings get him riled up tbh - only top energy after he has buffalo wings
♡ honestly, the beak he manifests after eating chicken lowkey destroys your cunt-
♡ the leathery skin he gets after eating crocodile makes him feel badass
♡ oh! and the sharp teeth too- like kirishima, he will go full-vampire if you want him too
♡ his quirk is so versatile, just let your imagination run wild lmao ✨
♡ plus, he is pretty whipped for you so he's basically down to try anything
#bnha smut#bakugo smut#kirishima smut#dabi smut#tamaki smut#kaminari smut#tamaki amajiki#bnha tamaki#tamaki x y/n#tamaki x you#suneater x reader#bakugou headcanons#katsuki bakugo x reader#bnha x you#kirishima x you#dabi x reader#dabi headcanons#my hero academia kaminari#kaminari x you#kaminari x y/n#kaminari headcanons#bnha bakugou#mha tamaki#mha bakugou#bnha suneater#bnha headcanons#👾nsfw
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bad boy good thing xvi.
pairing: jeon jungkook x oc
genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining
warnings: jk and oc :(
words: 5, 820
summary: a series of drabbles where you’re confused and jungkook’s confusing
a/n:
at the end of the chap!!!
“Babe, you better close your lips,” Yena nudges your shoulders when the two of you approach the football field with treats of your own.
“I’m not … drooling,” you reply lamely, fingers clutching the bag of food and refreshments tightly in your grasp as if it would run away.
“I wasn’t talking about your mouth,” she smirks.
Your head snaps towards her in a flush, ears immediately turning red when she resorts to snickering at your scandalised expression. You thwack her on her shoulder, flustered at the cackles she’s releasing. The food in your hands remains unscathed, purely because you spent a good amount of time preparing it for the boys—knowing that they were entering an important season for their football games.
From where the two of you were walking from, you had a decent view of the football team sprawled across the field, likely resting from one of their many intensive practices. You weren’t concerned with anyone else, and given Jungkook’s flashy hair colour—it was only natural that your eyes immediately fell onto his figure. It also just so happened that Jungkook decided to take his break—shirtless.
You shake your head to snap out of your daydream, fully aware of the way that Yena shoots you a knowing smirk.
“Okay, shut up before you blow my cover,” you hiss.
“You’re telling me that when your face screams I want to lick the sweat of Jungkook’s pectorals—!”
You’re about to drop the food aside, fully ready to attack Yena who looks all too pleased with her teasing, but another voice interjects before you can do any real harm to your friend.
“Is Yena harassing you?”
Yena snaps her head to the source of the voice and immediately narrows her eyes at the smirking figure.
“Oh shut the fuck up, Min,” she snaps.
“Was I talking to you?” He rolls his eyes before turning over to give you a smile, “Hey, ____. Here to feed the dogs?”
You snort, casting a sideways glance to Yena who’s equal parts fuming and red—and you’re definitely sure that it wasn’t because of her apparent anger. The lingering glance that Yoongi rests on her figure with a fond smile tells you enough, and you hide the grin that threatens to appear on your face as you return a kind one to Yoongi.
“Spot on. You’re here to cover their practices?” You make small talk as the three of you make your way towards the football team, most of them too immersed in whatever Namjoon was saying to take note of your approaching figures.
He lets out a deep sigh before nodding, hands stuffed in his pockets.
“You wanted coverage for next months paper, didn’t you?” He teasingly accuses.
You duck your head in embarrassment, remembering the meeting you had with the student reporter union and your exact words. You did need an article written on the football team’s practices for publicity purposes, and you briefly remembered Yoongi and Yena bumping heads on multiple occasions on who was to cover it. Clearly, Yoongi won—or more appropriately, Yena surrendered due to his ‘irritating’ personality.
“I did,” you smile apologetically, “Hopefully it isn’t that bad.”
“All he does is complain,” Yena mutters under her breath.
Yoongi raises a brow with an amused smirk on his face.
“I would’ve been complaining less if I had someone accompanying me,” he says pointedly.
You briefly note the flush on Yena’s cheeks before she grumbles something incoherent under her breath, shoving a fist into Yoongi’s arm in retaliation as he snickers at her reaction. You smile to yourself, eyes turning fond when you realise that Yoongi doesn’t back away even as she bites. All he does is let her have her way, patiently sticking by her side while he placates her growls.
You reach the circle where the footballers were gathered as you quietly tiptoed your way towards the bleachers, setting the food down and taking them out so they could dig in right after they were done. You brought enough for the entire team—but you were still worried since they were male athletes who definitely had an appetite for victory and your sandwiches. You hoped it’d suffice.
Just as you’ve settled down, Jimin spots you when his head snaps up, offering you a wide grin along with nudges to Namjoon and Taehyung’s shoulder. The rest of the team follow the direction of his eyes, and you turn red at the sudden attention of all the men on you as you offer a meek wave, avoiding any real eye contact.
“You came!” Jimin hops towards you, immediately dragging you into a hug as he nuzzles his sweaty forehead into your neck.
You grimace and push him away, scrunching your face at the wetness that sticks to your skin at his contact.
“Ew, you stink,” you whine.
He rolls his eyes before he digs through the food, showing his true intentions on why he came over in the first place.
“And you are an angel,” he coos, pinching your cheeks while you smacked his hand away.
“How was practice?” You hum for the sake of conversation while you watch the boy scarf down your sandwiches like a starved man.
He looks up with stuffed cheeks, pausing in his chomps, “Brufal.”
You offer him a sympathetic smile before squeezing his shoulder.
“All in good time, right?”
He swallows, rolling his eyes in response.
“Said every optimist ever. I just want this season to be over so I can go back to pigging out.”
You snort but you don’t deny his statement. You watch him while he continues to munch on his meal. Something was fulfilling about watching him enjoy your preparations, and you were definitely the type to enjoy taking care of your friends. You were usually the friend that provided advice and comforted people whenever they were faced with a particularly difficult time, and you’ve heard on several occasions from both Jimin, Taehyung—and even Jungkook; that you somehow knew what to do, and say, whenever they were faced with a problem.
It’s nice, to see Jimin happy, and you note to visit more during their practices with food.
“You’re too nice, do you know?” A voice interjects.
You look up from Jimin to see Namjoon walking towards you, with Jungkook and Taehyung trailing behind him. You flush ever so slightly because you briefly remember the last time you saw Jungkook and what happened. It’s been busy for the both of you so you weren’t able to see him much on campus either.
“Stop saying that,” you scowl, “And eat up before Jimin shovels everything down this throat.”
You thrust a wrapped sandwich into his chest that he receives with a dimpled grin. Namjoon wraps a loose arm around your shoulder as thanks and you still grimace at the sweat that lingers on your skin—but you realise that it’s an inevitable part of the role you took, so you sigh and accept it.
“Let’s get married if we both don’t by 35,” Taehyung suggests the moment he’s handed a sandwich of his own as you raise a brow at his proposition.
“So I can make you sandwiches?”
“Yeah,” he nods.
“Sounds pretty misogynistic to me,” you snort, “Make your own damn sandwiches.”
“But they’re not the same,” he whines, “It’s your essence that makes it taste so much better!”
You laugh at his desperate explanation and the wiggle of his eyebrows at his insinuation. You’re thankful he doesn’t smother you with his sweat and only grants you a grateful mumble of appreciation before he’s joining his other brain cell on the bleachers, immediately bickering away about whatever topic they decided on for the day.
When Jungkook comes up for his turn, you can’t keep eye contact. Especially when he’s still in his shirtless glory while he looks at you with those eyes of his, paired with his cheeky grin. He knows exactly what he’s doing and you hate him for it.
“Where’s my sandwich?” He asks, propping himself right in front of you, leaving you no space to breathe or to move away from him.
“There,” you point to the bag rather than handing him one like you did with the rest, “Help yourself.”
Jungkook pouts, tilting his head to the side as he chases your expression to search for your eyes. You’re still avoiding his gaze, and you feel like you’re beginning to perspire at the way he’s blatant with his ogling. The two of you were in public, and your friends have sat a few metres away from you with the rest of his football team lingering nearby and somehow the idea of people seeing the two of you so close gives you anxiety.
“You’re not going to give me one?” He asks.
“You have perfectly usable hands,” you gesture, and you immediately regret it because when you turn to look at him—his arms flex under the ministration when he cages you in with his body.
You let out a yelp, head immediately darting to the side to see whether or not anyone else was paying attention. But your friends are still caught in their own conversation, except Yena who somehow has a sixth sense for your embarrassment—and shoots the two of you a sleazy wink before tonguing the inside of her cheek.
Jungkook catches this, and you’re mortified to see the way his eyebrow raises at Yena’s gesture.
“You gossiping about me to your friend?” He teases.
You know exactly what he’s referring to. You scowl in response, sticking your nose up while you glance in the other direction; away from his smirk.
“Gossiping entails that whatever I said was negative. So, do what you want with that information,” you shrug.
Jungkook tuts, shaking his head before he lets out an amused chuckle.
“Always so bratty,” he sighs, “That smart mouth of yours loves to run itself, hm?” The shift to a much huskier tone stuns you into silence because he’s suddenly much closer, more insinuative and daring with the way he leans his face closer to yours until you’re finding it hard to breathe.
“We’re in public, Jeon,” you hiss.
He snickers, “No one cares except for you.”
“I’m not about to give everyone a free show,” you saw pointedly.
Jungkook smirks, “Who said anything about a show? Can’t I just have you close to me without it meaning anything else?”
You freeze. You know Jungkook doesn’t mean it that way, but you suppose it’s the remnants of insecurity that lingers deep in the back of your mind that makes your heart drop ever so slightly. You know how he feels; how his words are meant to be a light jibe towards you. But your collateral mind can only ask, what if?
As if Jungkook’s picked up on the reason for your silence, or perhaps he was just that good at reading you and your body language, he frowns—immediately reaching a hand to your shoulder and squeezing it to get your attention.
“Hey,” he says softly, “I didn’t mean it like that.”
You feel bad that he has to clarify himself when you yourself wanted to have faith in him—you did. It was more so that you lacked that same faith in yourself. To be that someone to Jungkook even when he’s made it clear to you about he felt. But you knew Jungkook to be the type that jumped from one interest to another like he was flipping through a brochure, and you didn’t mean it maliciously either.
Jungkook just liked a lot of things and could do well in a lot of things too once his mind is set. You were just terrified if that’s all you were to him. A phase that he’s got to experience in his life because it was interesting to him now.
“Sorry,” you whisper, eyes darting to your feet, “I … I know. It’s just—I’m just overthinking. It’s dumb.”
He frowns, “If it’s bothering you it’s not dumb.”
You sigh.
“No, it is,” you emphasise, balling your fist by your side as he looks at you attentively. You hate yourself a little more for being so unsure. “I know you didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that my mind just—it just thinks the worst of every situation. I’m sorry.”
Jungkook doesn’t seem to appreciate the way you’re continuously apologising or avoiding his gaze, so he takes it up himself to reach out his hands to tilt your chin upwards so that you’re looking at him. He’s always loved looking at you, whether you were studying, driving, or even just daydreaming—he loved your eyes and he’d spend most of his days just staring at you.
“I want you. I always want you,” he says and it both takes your breath away and makes your heart pound rapidly against your ribcage, “Everything that I do with you means the world to me. You mean the world to me and I don’t want to fuck this up. I fucked up once and I—I don’t want to mess this up either. So please, if you’re bothered—tell me. I want to know. I want to ease any of your worries now because I wasn’t able to do that before.”
Jungkook speaks so softly that you may have missed the sincerity and desperation laced in his tone, the hushed utterance of his truth that only you were meant to hear. He looks at you so tenderly, so authentically that you feel your heart constrict both in want and guilt. The reassuring grasp of one hand on your hip while the other rests under your chin forces you to acknowledge his sincerity—his want, and most importantly; him.
He notices it before you do, and his thumb wipes under your eyes when you feel the first teardrop. Your face morphs into a wide-eyed expression when you quickly swipe under your eyes to erase the evidence of your heart worn on your face. But Jungkook doesn’t allow you to get far, and he uses his strength to stop your wrists—forcing you to peer up at him with red-rimmed and freshly-swollen eyes.
“Don’t hide from me,” he murmurs.
“Jungkook—” you protest, pushing his hands away but it only makes him clutch you tighter.
“Don’t,” he says firmly, “It’s okay. Just cry if you have to.”
Your face crumbles because Jungkook can be both strict but earnest at the same time. It was conflicting for you not because you didn’t know how you felt but because you cared too much about the prying eyes of others. Even now, when Jungkook only looks at you—your mind strays to the people that talk, to the people that stare and wonder. And you hate it.
“We’re in public, Jungkook,” you say softly through a shaky breath.
You put some distance between the two of you by taking a step back, and Jungkook notices. Of course, he does, especially when space he once felt warmth turns cold. He frowns because he would rather hold you close—show the world and everyone that he loved you. But your eyes stray away, darting everywhere but his face.
“I don’t care,” he huffs, “I want you.”
And no matter how many times he says it, the pessimistic side of you nags at your heart to keep it safe. To keep things under wraps so that you could avoid wandering or curious gaze; especially when anyone could see or say anything.
“I know,” you tell him.
Jungkook scoffs and your eyes shoot up when you realise that Jungkook’s annoyed. The tick in his jaw tells you enough, especially when he takes a step back—placing that distance between the two of you. It sucks when you’re on the receiving end of such coldness and you can’t imagine how Jungkook felt when you pushed him away.
“Do you?” He exasperates, “I’m patient. I am. I’ll wait for you; I told you that and I meant it,” he frowns, “But I just want to hold you. I wanted this for the longest of times and I don’t care where we are in this world because that’ll never make me stop wanting you. I want you when we’re apart, I want you when we’re together and I want you now. When will that be enough?”
Jungkook takes your breath away again, but for different reasons. This time, he sounds tired—desperate, almost. He rubs his hands across his face in frustration and you can tell he’s trying his best to level his breathing. You stand there silent, lips pursed as you mull over his words.
“It is enough,” you tell him, eyes peering up on your own; but this time Jungkook isn’t looking at you and it makes your heart clench. His eyebrows are furrowed and the only thing you can catch a glimpse of is the side of his face. “I just … people talk, Jungkook. I know you’re used to that but I’m not. I don’t like it when people are in my business.”
He scoffs, “And now it’s other people that are standing in between us?” Your eyes narrow at him but the clench of his jaw tells you that he’s not stepping down either, “I am, I’m used to people talking about me whether it be good or bad. And I know you don’t like it—I know,” he exasperates, “But when will we just be enough of a reason for you to take that leap of faith?”
“It’s not that easy—”
“Of course it isn’t!” He exclaims, “I’m not saying it is. I know I fucked up and it made things more complicated than they should be but I’m here now and I’m trying. I’m trying so hard to wait for you because I want to prove myself to you. But if all it takes is just people’s words to get in between us then I don’t know if it even matters anymore.”
You recoil at his words, eyes widening when he finally looks down at you. Jungkook doesn’t look angry. He looks tired, and he sounds tired. Your heart hurts because you don’t know how he feels when all this while you were within arms reaches but not quite. You had the reassurance from Jungkook and your friends that he wanted you—but somehow you couldn’t quite believe it. Was it your fault that you felt this way? Why did you feel this way?
“Jungkook …” you reach out to grab his arm, and he doesn’t push you away. But he doesn’t make an effort to hold your hand like he usually would and it made your stomach drop.
“I love you,” he whispers, “I can shout it on rooftops and announce it to the world if that’ll make you believe me. But when will my love be enough?”
“I want you too, Jungkook,” you reply, squeezing his arm tighter.
“Do you?” He sighs, “It’s hard for me too,” he says as his eyes flutter shut, “I can wait. But it hurts. It hurts because if you really wanted me then that’s all that should matter.”
“Wait, Jungkook—” you reach out to him when he pulls away from you and you feel your heart drop when he doesn’t look at you.
Maybe it was an act of desperation, or your mind telling you to not lose a good thing due to your rumination—but you use all the strength you have to tug him back to you because you couldn’t have Jungkook walk away from you. Not now, when your heart tells you to stop being afraid, to stop being stubborn.
“I need—” he begins with a sigh, but your eyebrows are furrowed in determination when you loop your arms around his neck to tug him down to your level.
And you kiss him.
You think it’s the first time that you’ve initiated a kiss, even when the two of you were messing around. It’d always been Jungkook who took the first step, an exception was your last interaction at your apartment. But if you looked harder, even through the hurt, Jungkook reached out first. Granted, it was never in the way that you wanted—but he always took the first leap, for you and the both of you.
When you kiss him, you feel him freeze under your hold, even when you press your lips harder against his. You don’t think about the consequences, you don’t think about your friends who are likely witnessing your first public display of affection with Jungkook, and you definitely don’t think about the way that the rest of his football teammates gawk at the two of you.
It feels scary—but right. And that’s all that should’ve mattered.
When you pull away, you’re breathing heavy, peering your eyes up to Jungkook who’s stunned to silence with a gape in his mouth.
“I’m sorry,” you blurt.
You briefly see from the corner of your eye the way that Yena is squeezing Yoongi’s arm who looks as surprised as the boy in front of you. You even see Namjoon, with a hint of a smile on his face even as he looks away. Your heart clenches in guilt, but you’ve spent far too long hurting yourself and Jungkook.
“I didn’t mean to pressure you into this,” Jungkook whispers, brushing a thumb over your cheek.
“You … you didn’t,” you assure him with a small smile before you nibble on your lips. “You’re right. This—us—it should’ve been enough for me.” You tell him as he observes you with gentle eyes, “And it is. It’s always been but I’ve always been afraid and honestly? I still am. I’m terrified because this is new for me and I don’t know what’s going to happen.”
“I know,” he murmurs, pulling you closer as your arms still rest loosely around his neck, “I’m scared too. But it’s worth it. You’re worth it.”
You turn a pretty shade of red when you duck your head to avoid his fond gaze. He chuckles when you do so, endeared by your embarrassment even if you were the one that reached out first—to proclaim your affection with your kiss.
But some moments don’t last forever, and they’re not meant to. So when a third party interjects and snaps you out of your little bubble with Jungkook, you freeze.
“You sure she isn’t a two-timer, Jeon?” Jeonghan, who you briefly remember seeing at some of the football games, interjects with a raised brow as he leans on the railings of the bleachers.
You still, immediately loosening your grip around Jungkook’s neck and he realises your hesitancy—sees the fear that erupts just when you found the courage to take that first step.
“What?” You whisper.
Jungkook shoots his teammate a blazing glare that you don’t catch because you’re too busy avoiding his gaze, the attention causing the heat to rise on your cheeks and the sweat to accumulate by your hairline and on your body.
“Dude—it’s not worth it,” he snorts, “What next? She sleeps her way through the entire team?”
Your face drops, and Jungkook finally lets go of you. Your eyes widen because you think for a second that he believes his teammate, that Jeonghan has managed to somehow lure his way into the depths of Jungkook’s mind to plant that seed of doubt within his already muddled mind.
“What the fuck did you just say?” Jungkook asks with a menacing glare.
You’re frozen, but Namjoon is quickly at your side—concern etched on his face after Yena noticed the tension arising from your corner. Jimin and Taehyung are right behind him, observing the situation as they see Jungkook’s chest heaving when he stares his teammate down.
“I’m just saying,” Jeonghan shrugs, shooting you a knowing glance, “Wasn’t she fucking captain?”
“Jeonghan,” Namjoon intervenes, voice stern.
“What?” He raises his hand in defence, “Weren’t you about to ask her out?”
You hate this. You hate the attention and hate how he speaks about you as if you weren’t standing there—mortified. You especially hate the way that the rest of the team filters where the tension begins to escalate. They’re curious, for sure—at how their captain and their best player is suddenly caught in this dilemma with Jeonghan as the instigator.
“That has nothing to do with you,” Namjoon narrows his eyes at him in response.
Jeonghan snorts, “Um. It kind of does. You bailed on us for her,” Jeonghan states pointedly, “And now she’s locking lips with the golden boy here. She played you, man.”
Before Namjoon can respond, Jungkook takes a threatening step towards Jeonghan as he basically towers over him. Your hair stands on your arms as you can more or less tell where this is going, especially with the way that Jungkook’s fists clench by his sides.
“Jungkook—” you squeak, hands reaching out to rest on his shoulder.
You snap out of it, purely because you know that Jungkook’s pissed. His ears are red and his jaw is clenched, and you don’t want to know what’ll happen if you remained stagnant any longer.
“Stay out of this,” he snaps.
You blink, and even Namjoon looks taken aback. Jimin has concern written all over his features as he steps forward, likely attempting to mitigate the situation.
“Jungkook, don’t be stupid,” Jimin berates.
Jungkook turns around and all you see behind his usual doe-eyed gaze is now a fire that burns and is threatening to blaze anything in its way. And right now, Jungkook’s glaring at Jimin like he’s a rock in his journey.
“You’re going to let him say that shit about her?” Jungkook snaps.
“What’s fighting him going to do?” Jimin exasperates, eyebrows furrowed, “Don’t dig yourself a deeper hole and calm the fuck down. We have a game in two weeks and starting something now won’t do any of us good.” He raises his voice towards the end as he glares at every single person who has so happened to crowd around the lot of you to see what was happening, “Did you not hear what I said? Mind your own fucking business!”
The rest of the team murmurs amongst themselves, not before shooting you a disparaging glance that makes you feel uneasy. You look away because that’s the best you could do, fingers resting limply by your sides while you shift behind Jimin as if he was able to protect you from the wandering stares.
It was your exact fear, and somehow fate seems to hate you with the way your dream-like state with Jungkook is immediately ruined with your fears being proven.
Taehyung and Yena are by your side, looking at you with worry as you avoid their gaze. Your mind is louder, though you catch the lecture that Jungkook’s getting from Jimin for almost fighting Jeonghan. Even if nothing happened—the indents of Jungkook’s fingernails on his palm proves enough of what could happen if it weren’t for Jimin, or Namjoon, intervening.
“God, he’s such a fucking asshole,” Yena grumbles, pulling you to her side as she rubs your shoulder soothingly.
You say nothing, and you briefly see Yoongi walking over; offering you an apologetic glance that you mildly acknowledge.
“You okay?” Taehyung asks softly.
You sigh, fiddling with your fingers as you look over your shoulders to see Jungkook already staring at you.
“I want to be,” you reply, “But I fucked things up.”
Yena frowns, “Don’t say that.”
“But it’s true,” you exasperate, “If I hadn’t led Namjoon on or—if I just didn’t … if I just didn’t feel the way I did for Jungkook then—”
“And then what?” Jungkook’s voice snaps you out of your rambling as you turn around to see him furrowing his brows at you.
“Jungkook—” you reach out to him, again. He only flinches in response.
“If you didn’t feel the way you did for me and then what?” He whispers voice frustrated, “Then you’d get to protect yourself?”
“Jungkook,” Taehyung says sternly, eyes warning.
He pays him no mind, however, as you continue to blink up at him.
“That’s not what I meant,” you defend.
“What do you mean, then?” Jungkook snaps, “Because five minutes ago we had this exact same conversation—and then you kissed me—and now it’s like we’re back to square one. So what do you actually mean because I can’t keep trying to come up with my own answers!”
“That’s what I mean, Jungkook!” you frown, gesturing your arms wildly towards the team who’s all grouped together a good distance from where you were, “That. People talking. God, I want you too but I can’t live with the constant hypotheticals of people wondering how the fuck you could ever be with someone that apparently slept with your captain.”
“I don’t care about what people say!” He says vehemently, stepping closer to you.
The rest of your friends observe silently as they all exchange looks, shifting away to give you some privacy. You were so confused, and tired—and you didn’t even care if you were in public anymore and that people could see the argument brewing between you and Jungkook.
“I know you don’t,” you snap, “But not everything is about how you feel, Jungkook. You can live your life because everyone’s going to be pointing figures at me. Not you. It’s because it’s my name that’s being thrown around like I’m some—like I’m some whore who can’t keep her legs closed and—”
“Don’t fucking say that,” Jungkook snarls.
“—it’s what people are saying!” You cry, “Jungkook. Just a month ago you were with Jennie and I was somehow with Namjoon. What … what will people think?”
“So that’s what you’re afraid of?” He laughs dryly.
“What—?”
“You’re afraid because of what other people may think?” He repeats your words back to you, standing closer as you shift back, eyes avoiding his heavy gaze.
“I’m scared of a lot of things, Jungkook,” you say softly.
“I want to be there for you,” he tells you, voice softer than the previous harsh tone he took, “Me risking my position on this team just now? Yeah, that’s what I would do to protect you. I know people will talk and I know it sucks because your name is thrown in the loop—but you have me. You have Namjoon, Jimin, Taehyung and Yena. We all would do anything to protect you so why are you still so afraid?”
Jungkook’s beginning to sound more desperate, especially with the way he’s somehow clutching on your elbows as if you’d slip away.
“I”—what were you afraid of? You seemed to have all the answers earlier, and even after Jungkook’s pleas, you find yourself hesitating. The anxiety of people looking at the two of you and wondering how the hell could it work—or whether or not you were set on breaking Jungkook’s heart; and vice versa. You remember the names of people who’s ever questioned your friendship and if there was something more. You remember Sana, harmlessly saying that it seemed impossible for the two of you to be together.
The entire time, fear plagues your mind, and you can’t give Jungkook an answer because it’s more than just people. It was you. It was you being terrified that you weren’t enough and that he’d see how imperfect you were compared to the girl he thinks he loves. You weren’t the smart, independent girl that participated in every club on campus. You were … small. You were fragile and weak, and insecure.
“I can’t keep doing this,” he says defeatedly, resting his forehead on the crown of your head.
Your heart drops.
“Please don’t say that,” you croak.
You feel the lump in your throat grow, and when you look up—you see a pained expression painting Jungkook’s face.
“I don’t want to say that,” he whispers right before he reaches up to clutch your face in his hands, “But I think I need to.”
“You don’t!” You cry, your own arms reaching out to clutch at the collar of the fresh shirt he’s managed to throw on.
“This doesn’t change the fact that I love you,” he reminds you gently.
You hate that you’re crying. The hot, wet tears that flow down your cheeks is a reminder of your vulnerability. Of how much control Jungkook has over your feelings.
“Why does it sound like you’re breaking up with me,” you cry.
He smiles, soft and half-hearted as he pulls you into a hug.
“We aren’t together,” he reminds you. Your heart clenches because you could’ve been.
“I …” you want to say that you could be. You want to tell him that you want him. And you do. But your mouth doesn’t move when all you can hear is sobs escaping you.
“Think about it, okay?” He murmurs, brushing your hair out of your face so that you wouldn’t end up crying all over the strands of hair uncomfortably, “If you … if you’re still afraid. That’s okay. We can be friends, and I can pretend like this never happened. I’ll always respect your decision.”
“But …”
He shushes you gently, wiping at your tears.
“I told you. I’ll wait for you—but I can only do that if you want me to,” he says sadly, “I love you. I do. I spent the past seven years of my life loving you, but I need to know if you feel the same.”
“I do!” You immediately respond, eyes wide.
He shakes his head with a small laugh, “You may love me. But love isn’t always enough.”
His words are heartbreaking, and you feel yourself crumble all over again. But your mind isn’t clear and you’re overwhelmed with emotion. Jungkook’s still looking at you gently like he always had. But it seems different.
“Let me take you home first, yeah?” He whispers.
You stop his movements when he reaches out to pick at your belongings as you grab a hold of his hand.
He turns to look at you with a raised brow and you notice how tired and sunken his eyes look. Your heart clenches for the millionth time and you just want to—
“Can I kiss you?”
It’s funny that you’re the one asking that question. When weeks ago it was him in that same position. You realise how vulnerable Jungkook must’ve felt when he posed you with the same question because you feel the exact same. You feel like your heart is on the floor, exposed to everyone as they examine the ins and outs of your feelings.
Jungkook looks at you softly, before pulling you to his chest and pressing a soft kiss to your lips.
And like always, Jungkook can’t say no to you.
a/n:
hi babes!!!! new chapter is up and oc and jk are :-(
im sorry for the angst!!!!! but things aren't always great between the two 🥺
i hope you enjoyed this chapter even tho yall may be cursing at me rn 🤣 but i do hope that you see oc's internal struggles with accepting everything and pursuing a potential relationship w jk despite her 'obvious' feelings towards him
as always, let me know what you think in my asks!!! love you all - and have a lovely day ahead of you ❤️
#bad boy good thing#bbgt#bts#bts fics#bts series#bts angst#bts fluff#bts fanfic#bts smut#bts jungkook#jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook#jungkook smut#jungkook fic#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook series
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Date Night
Angel Reyes x F!Reader
Warnings: language, mentions of alcohol
Word Count: 2.6k
A/N: I wrote this fic when my boyfriend and I were on a big Warzone kick so be warned that a majority of this story uses that as the base of it haha. This one-shot got away from me pretty quickly, and I’ve been super hesitant to post it (it’s literally been sitting in my ‘finished’ folder for months without me posting it because ~anxiety~) But I figured it’s not doing any good sitting unpublished. I know I haven’t really been creating a whole lot of Mayans content lately, but hoping to get back into the swing of it soon! xo
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You were sat on the couch in your apartment, headset on as you started another round of Warzone with Angel, EZ, and Coco. The four of you tried to band together at least twice a week when their lives would allow for it, all playing from your respective apartments. Coco heard you mention something off-hand about Call of Duty one night and he didn’t let it go, and somehow that evolved into the four of you running quads together in your free time. Coco and Angel were always getting intermittently suspended from the game for the things that they said when they were winning, and you and EZ found it endlessly entertaining.
“Thought you weren’t going to be on tonight, Y/N,” Angel commented as the two of you waited for EZ and Coco to get back to their headsets, each of them having gotten up to grab drinks.
You tried not to sigh, “Didn’t think I was. Plans got cancelled so I got some unexpected free time.”
“Glad we’re your second choice,” EZ’s voice founds its way over the stream with a chuckle.
“Second place ain’t that bad, EZ,” you laughed, “Don’t bitch about it.”
“Homeboy bailed again, didn’t he?” Angel asked, already fairly certain of the answer.
“Yuup,” you stretched the word out, letting your annoyance shine through, “Fuck it. Doesn’t matter,” you paused, “How long does it take for Coco to grab a fuckin’ beer?”
“Ay, I’m here,” he spoke up, finally, “Let’s run it.”
Considering the fact that the four of you were constantly talking amongst yourselves about things that had nothing to do with the game, you did pretty well as a team. You’d get a few wins together every week, and of course one of them was always trying to take all the credit. It didn’t matter enough for you to get involved, so you let them argue it out amongst themselves.
“Fuck!” Coco groaned, “Team on me. I’m down.”
You laughed, “Damn, hope you’re a better sniper in real life or Angel and EZ are screwed.”
“Shut the fuck up,” he shot back at you with a laugh.
“EZ how do you always end up in a completely different part of the map?” you chuckled, “We can’t revive you if we don’t know where the fuck you are.”
“When have I ever needed you guys to revive me?”
“This motherfucker,” Angel mumbled under his breath, trying not to sound as amused as he was.
“It doesn’t bother your man that you’re spending your night with three dudes who are, objectively, way better than he is?” Angel asked with a laugh as he trailed you in the game.
You shook your head, glad that he couldn’t see the smile on your face, “Your humility never ceases to amaze me, Angel.”
“Didn’t answer the question, Y/N,” EZ piped up.
“You guys trying to hold an intervention right now or something? Fuck,” you laughed.
“You think you need one, querida?” Angel’s tone was baiting, and you were trying not to feed into it.
Luckily, before he could keep pressing you about it, the two of you started getting lit up by another team in the game. Normally it would’ve been frustrating but you were glad to have the distraction. It was bad enough that Angel was always looking for any excuse to give you grief about your boyfriend, but you had to admit that your boyfriend gave Angel decent amounts of metaphorical ammo to use against him. You hated conceding to that, though, so the onslaught of players coming after you was a welcome distraction.
You managed to get out of it unscathed, but Angel wasn’t so lucky. You chuckled, “Have fun in the gulag, sucker.”
“We’re on the same team, you know,” he laughed.
“Not when you’re talking all that shit, we aren’t.”
“You’d still buy me back though, right?”
You scoffed, “Nah if I’m gonna drop four grand it’ll be on Coco.”
“Damn straight,” Coco’s laugh rang through the chat.
“Seriously where the fuck is EZ?” you shook your head as you sprinted across the map.
“Safe and sound unlike you fools,” he chuckled.
“Can you stop camping and come drop me some ammo?” you couldn’t hold your laughter in, completely undoing any work you had been putting in to sound annoyed.
Despite all the shit the four of you talked, you managed to clutch a win at the end of it with EZ and Coco. Angel was pouting over not being bought back, but you were a woman of your word and when you were able to Coco was the first player you brought back into the game. The four of you stayed on for a little bit in the lobby, just talking amongst yourselves before EZ and Coco got ready to sign off.
“Tell your man we said wassup,” Coco snickered.
You sighed and rolled your eyes, “Goodbye, Coco.”
“You two gonna play nice if I leave?” the smugness in EZ’s voice was palpable.
“No promises,” you laugh.
“Beat it, Boy Scout,” you could hear the smile in Angel’s voice, “Go clean your one set of silverware or something.”
“I have at least three sets now, but fine,” with one last laugh he left the lobby, leaving just you and Angel behind.
“Wanna run another one?” you chuckled, “Promise I’ll buy you back this time.”
“Fuckin’ liar,” he laughed, “But fine.”
It was silent between the two of you for a few minutes and it was almost eerie, solely because Angel was notorious for never keeping his mouth shut. A couple times you wanted to point it out, but something in the game would always distract you and you never quite got around to it.
“Boy Wonder still not home?” Angel asked.
“Something tells me that I’m flying solo tonight,” you paused, letting a half-hearted laugh fall from your lips, “Besides you, of course.”
“Of course,” he chuckled but you could tell that there was something more behind it.
“Whatchu thinking, Angelito? Hm?” you tried to coax it out of him.
“What kind of fuckin’ idiot,” he paused as he reloaded his gun, the brief pause making your stomach knot slightly, “doesn’t use dead silence? I hear your heavy feet from miles away, querida.”
You huff, knowing that he was deflecting, “That’s what’s weighing on you, Angel? Really?” your fingers nervously drummed against the back of your controller.
“Speaking of idiots,” he continued, and you wished that you could see his face, “what the fuck is your man doing ditching you again?”
There it is.
You let out a sigh that shifts into a hollow laugh, “Your guess is as good as mine.”
“Never thought to ask?”
You scoff, “You know, it actually never crossed my mind. Blowing my whole world wide open tonight.”
“Alright, alright,” he chuckled, “Clearly a touchy topic.”
“I don’t even know if I want the fucking answer, at this point,” you shake your head as the two of you slowly but surely make your way towards the safe zone of the map, “I don’t want another bullshit excuse.”
“Why do you even bother sticking around, then?”
“I dunno,” you chuckle quietly, “Why do you still pick up the AK when you could grab the M13? Sometimes people just do dumb shit.”
“I’m nasty with the AK and you know it,” he laughed. There were a few beats of silence as the two of you battled it out in the game, covering each other before Angel continued, “I’m just sayin’, you should not be spending your date night playing fuckin’ Warzone with me.”
“My company that bad, Angel?”
“You know that ain’t what this is about.”
You sighed, “I know. It’s just—fuck!” you laughed and let your controller drop into your lap, “I’m down. Fuck.”
“C’mon, gotta keep your head in the game,” he laughed.
“You don’t get to grill me on my relationship and then give me shit for being distracted.”
“Wanna back out?”
You nodded before you remembered that he couldn’t see you, “Uh, yea sure. I’m tapped out for the night, I think.”
Both of you backed out of the match but you stayed on the line with each other. The silence that filled the space between you almost felt heavy. Part of you felt like you should be saying something but you didn’t quite know what.
“Wanna come over?” you didn’t know what possessed you to say that, especially given how late it was, but it was out there now and you couldn’t take it back.
“Now?” he couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t surprised.
“I mean…yea?”
There was a pause before he laughed, “Fuck it, why not? I’ll be there in fifteen.”
“Real fifteen, or Angel fifteen?”
You could easily picture him shaking his head at you, “Real fifteen.”
True to his word, fifteen minutes later you heard a knock at your door. You let him in and for some reason, things felt just a little bit different. It wasn’t anything that either of you said or did, but there was definitely a shift. You grabbed a couple beers for each of you before plopping down on the couch next to him.
The two of you got wrapped up in conversation, bantering back and forth about one thing then another. It was the hardest that you’d laughed in a long time and you had to admit that you needed it. Not that you didn’t love shooting back and forth with him and the guys, but there was definitely something different about sitting on the couch together and joking around as opposed to doing it over a headset from your separate living rooms.
At one point he bet you that you couldn’t win a round without your headset on. You were fairly certain that he was right, but once he made a bet out of it you needed to prove him wrong. Loading the game and taking a long drink from your next beer bottle, you got ready to hopefully make yourself twenty bucks richer.
It was about as futile as you’d assumed it would be, but the commentary from Angel made the repeated defeats worth it. The two of you were shoulder to shoulder on the couch, Angel doing everything except reaching over and snatching the controller from you in an attempt to throw you off. You playfully nudged him to try and put some distance between you as you played. Both of you were erupting with laughter when you heard a key turn in the lock of your door.
Both of you paused and looked over as your boyfriend walked in. Despite the fact that neither you nor Angel were doing anything wrong, you still felt like you were supposed to be explaining yourself. He only looked at you for a moment before his eyes locked onto Angel’s. The two of them had only met briefly on a few occasions—he never really hung out with the guys from the MC.
“Sorry. Didn’t know you had company,” he was still looking at Angel rather than you.
“Uh, yea,” you closed out of the game and leaned back on the couch, “Kind of a last-minute thing.”
“If you’re busy, I can leave,” his eyes darted back and forth between you and Angel.
“She shoulda been busy a few fuckin’ hours ago, bro,” Angel spoke up before he could stop himself.
“What?” his tone had more bite to it than you were used to.
“Angel, don’t,” you kept your voice quiet.
“No, let him say what he’s gotta say,” you could tell by the way your boyfriend shifted his weight that he was going to turn this into more than it needed to be.
“I’m just saying,” Angel shook his head slightly, “Me and my boys have spent more time with your girl on your date nights than you have lately,” he sucked his teeth, “No reason that she should be stuck playing fuckin’ Warzone with us jokers when you’re supposed to be taking her to dinner and a movie or some shit.”
“Fuck,” you whispered as you ran your hands down your face.
He stepped forward towards the couch, “Who the fuck do you think you are?”
Angel stood up off the sofa, effectively dwarfing your boyfriend without even having to try, “Who the fuck are you?”
Your boyfriend looked over to you, “Y/N, why do you le—”
“Nah, nah,” Angel shook his head, “This is between us now,” he motioned back and forth between them, “Say what you gotta say.”
“What gives you the right to come in here and tell me what to do with my relationship? Don’t you got biker shit you should be doing?”
“What do you think I’m doin’ right now?” there was a cocky smirk on Angel’s face as he spoke and you knew that you shouldn’t have found it as amusing as you did.
You must’ve been worse at hiding your amusement than you thought, because when your boyfriend looked over at you, anger instantly took over his features, “This shit funny to you, Y/N?”
All of the care in you disappeared, “I mean,” you sighed and shrugged, “honestly? A little bit.”
He scoffed, “You know what? I don’t fucking need this,” he shook his head, “I’m not gonna stay here and just be disrespected. I’m fucking, I’m done. I’m out.”
You knew that you should’ve felt something, but you just didn’t. You didn’t even bother to get up off the couch, “Leave your key on the way out, then.”
Both he and Angel looked at you with surprised expressions on their faces. Your boyfriend shook his head slightly in disbelief, “Wh-what?”
“If you’re done,” you leaned forward, elbows resting on your knees, “then leave your key to my place. I don’t want my ex to be able to get into my place whenever he wants.”
He sputtered a few fractions of words before tossing the key onto the table and turning to head out. He slammed the door behind him and Angel looked back to you, shock written all over his face. A smile crept across his lips and he shook his head at you.
“That was fuckin’ cold.”
You chuckled, shrugging, “Was a long time coming though, right?”
“I mean, yea, but still,” he paused, really looking at you, “You good?”
You nodded, “Right now? Yea. Maybe it’ll hit me tomorrow or something. Or maybe it won’t,” you had to laugh.
“Sorry I kinda brought this on,” you could tell by the look in his eyes that the apology was genuine.
You shrugged, “You and your big fuckin’ mouth certainly didn’t help,” you chuckled, “But none of that was on you.”
“You wanna talk abou—"
“No,” you cut him off with a shake of your head, “C’mon,” you motioned for him to sit down next to you again, “Time for you to lose without a headset on.”
He laughed as he sat next to you, “I ain’t gonna lose.”
You smiled, shaking your head as he took the controller in his hands. Without thinking much of it, you found yourself settling against his side. He froze up for a moment before reaching around you, lightly wrapping you up as he held the controller in his hands. Neither of you said anything about it for a few minutes while he got himself set up.
You chuckled as you watched him loot for weapons, “Still gonna use the goddamn AK?”
“The gun isn’t what’s gonna make me lose, querida,” he chuckled as he chanced a glance down at you cozied up against his side.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you smiled up at him knowingly.
He chuckled, shaking his head, “Nothin’, nothin’.”
#mayans mc#mayansmc#mayans fx#mayans mc imagine#angel reyes#angel reyes x you#angel reyes x reader#angel reyes imagine#angel reyes fanfic#my writing#fanfiction#drabblesmc
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The time has come once again
The Bloodbath
“I’m simply one hell of a butler” says Sebastian as he starts cleaning as usual
Okay so Agni’s taking no prisoners
Work Nerd, Science Nerd, and Jock Nerd team up to form the Nerd Trifecta
Team One Brain Cell joins up with Phipps, who is quite possibly their only chance for survival
Ran-Mao remembers how Harcourt beat everyone in the unfortunately deleted round and said “Not in my backyard”
So far, everyone else has simply run away unscathed or grabbed a weapon they won’t use because the game doesn’t record weapons. Rip Tanaka
Day 1
Ran-Mao bringing the canon energy by adding a second weapon to her arsenal
Phipps somehow always turns into Team Dad during these, so I’m glad to see he’s finding time for his favorite hobbies
Undertaker up to his usual Sneaky Antics
It hasn’t even been twelve hours yet. Kind of impressive honestly
Considering Harcourt lost his mace, I’ll just assume the attack Grell “escaped” from was the vicious stabbing of his trim little schoolboy fingernails
Bad vibes
It appears that Lau also brought his canon game
Sebastian in the most recent chapters be like
I’ve actually never had this event come up before and it has to happen between two of the more innocent characters in the series;;;; god Lizzie you deserve better even in the Hunger Games Simulator
Where’s a Safety Nerd when you need one
What’s better than this? Guys bein dudes
This is probably what happened after Ciel left Weston
Sebastian will take care of this for ya, huh bud
Other events:
Agni practices his archery
Wolfram goes fishing
Othello finds a cave
Soma goes ‘splorin
Edward goes huntin
Day 1′s Deaths: Tanaka, Sieglinde, Lizzie, and Macmillan. Someday one of the ladies will win
Night 1
Butler slumber party in the woods, BYOYM (bring your own young master)
It takes a lot of energy to be this blond
I’m happy for her :)
Yeah I’ll bet you probably do Lau
A tonal shift so abrupt I got mental whiplash
Can we go back to when Grell was looking at the sky pls
Thought about science too hard. Got a concussion
Thought about Ciel dying too hard. Got an infection
Aww dad :( Hope you caught some fish tho
Looks like Harcourt won’t be winning this one, gang
I stg the hunger games simulator is misogynist because the ladies always DIE /j
Ran-Mao is hopefully here to prove the previous statement wrong
Other events:
Bard gets a hatchet
Undertaker also passes out from exhaustion
R!Ciel goes to sleep in a tree
Day 2
Oh you five are SO going in my burn book for this. It’s what Grell would’ve wanted
Ahaha just like in the real manga... right guys (;
Idk about you but I’m rooting for her
I don’t think the simulator could’ve picked four people who were less likely to team up than this
I would too if I saw my best friend was palling around with an opium dealer, a grim reaper with a lawn mower, and another grim reaper that the first grim reaper doesn’t like
Other events:
Othello chases Wolfram
That’s the only other event actually
That means today we lost O!Ciel, Mey-Rin, Harcourt, and Grell. ffs, I hope Ran-Mao kills all of you
Night 2
I’ve missed you, rare pair simulator
The “unknown sponsor” was Undertaker and the “fresh food” was O!Ciel
Confirmed: Lau doesn’t get high off his own supply
Once again a ceasefire between the strong hungry boys is formed
Girl, you don’t have to do that
“Did you kill Ciel?” Sebastian asks
“No that was William,” Othello says
Sebastian punches a tree so hard that it combusts. “God damn. Fuck” Sebastian says
Wolfram just realized I put him in the Hunger Games simulator
Other events:
Phipps thinks about “Are you winning son”
Undertaker gazes at space
Ronald becomes Lost Ronald
Soma passes out
Bard gets some water
Day 3
Damn Agni who haven’t you flirted with
Finny sees that Bard has water and thinks Bard cooked it himself, so he wants no part of that (might be burnt)
What did he even have that was worth stealing? A fish?
Well I can tell you who isn’t creating that smoke: Lau
“What’s worse than two young masters? No young masters. Now get over here and make a contract”
Everything about this sentence is a fever dream
Other events:
Undertaker decides he wants a slingy shot too
Edward chases Dad I mean Phipps
Othello gets some ouchies from picking berries
Night 3
When your young master dies, you just get an infection apparently
damn Finny’s playing hardball
I don’t think anything bad has actually happened to Bard yet. It’s just been a grand frolic the whole time
I barely remember reading the first Hunger Games but Ran-Mao’s the Foxface of this journey: she deserves to win and I just know she’ll die in the stupidest way possible
Sebastian’s like a cat that can’t reach the bird it wants to attack, so it attacks the nearest other thing instead. Poor Dad
Two white-haired anime boys and a not-white-haired anime boy talk about who will die tomorrow. Anime doesn’t exist yet so the white-haired anime boys don’t know their hair color automatically spells their doom
Other events:
Edward starts a fire, which means he’s capable of smoking opium
Ronald gets some medical supplies
Othello gets a hatchet
R!Ciel thinks about winning
Lau gets an entire explosive, but he won’t be able to light it, so no it’s no big deal
Day 4
In Soviet Hunger Games, white-haired anime boy kills you
But why murder someone when you could just mess with them
Other events:
Grey scares Bard
Finny goes hunting
Night 4
Have you four even killed anyone yet
The list of “people who didn’t start the manor fire and also don’t smoke opium” now consists of Lau and R!Ciel
The mood is too light now. Someone needs to die and it better not be Ran-Mao
At last, Father Phipps has chosen his son for this round
Agni gushes about all the hot guys he’s simultaneously in love with, giving Ran-Mao a clearer idea of who’s still alive
Day 5
Girl, it’s about time, go claim some trophies
Finny’s easily got the longest kill streak and it’s a little unnerving
Father Phipps finds a new secret fishing hole
Othello doesn’t
Lau continues to put in all the efforts of a kindergarten bully
Oh no. He’s a yandere
Other events:
Sebastian fucks around and explores the arena
Bard fucks around and hunts for tributes
Undertaker fucks around and sleeps
R!Ciel fucks around and picks flowers
Night 5
I’ve never met anyone who ships Sebastian/Undertaker but I know you’re out there
Okay, maybe these four are even less likely to team up than Phipps, Ronald, Undertaker, and Lau
Edward sees I’m making jokes about people who build fires and stays hidden
Day 6
Canonically, that is the only way R!Ciel would win a fight, so
I probably could have predicted this
I hope these are the faces they made when it happened
The “unknown sponsor” is R!Ciel and the “fresh food” is an ear that fell off his own head
I’m not sure if I should be concerned or unsurprised that Bard’s Hunger Games life is more chill than his canon life
the “unknown sponsor” was the fish and the “clean water” was “fish water”
Other events:
Ran-Mao gets her third weapon that she doesn’t want to use, which is a hatchet
Finny finds a river
Agni practices archery again, but he doesn’t kill anyone because he wants this to go on forever
Night 6
Ran-Mao I beg you please. Release us from this purgatory of mediocrity
And suddenly we’re back to canon Bard
I guess not everything can be canon
Other events:
Both Agni and Phipps pass out from exhaustion. It’s 2:50 a.m. so I should really be taking a page from their book, but unfortunately everyone refuses to die
The Feast
Finny has been a stone cold killer this entire match, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that the girl I wanted to win would get eliminated by him, but it still hurts ✌️😔
If you cheat on Othello, he will overpower you, killing you
Everyone else decided not to go to the Feast. Honestly, I don’t remember what the Feast is, but everyone who did go either murdered someone or got murdered, so I guess that was probably a good call
Day 7
I’ve had enough of this dude
Jesus Finny I can’t wait to see how many kills you got, I feel like you and Agni were the only two who took anyone down
Bard, Undertaker, Sebastian, and Phipps all hunt for other tributes but they’re useless and don’t kill anyone
Arena Event: Volcano Eruption
In one fell swoop, we lose Sebastian, Undertaker, R!Ciel, and Finny, jeez. But... that means it comes down to.............
FATHER PHIPPS VS. BARD
FATHER PHIPPS !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Wow... Unlike his manga counterpart, this boy coasted the whole time and won... He basically went on vacation and he actually won... But then again, it’s Hunger Games Simulator and nothing is sacred
Well I hope you learned a valuable lesson today. I hope you did at some point before you read my post, because you sure as hell learned nothing from this. Thank you for wasting precious minutes of your life with me 😏
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Short Midnight Drabble ~
[Content warnings: Excessive drinking; dubious consent; victim self-blaming; jealousy; explicit sexual content; explicit language.]
The rhythm in his head had but one name. Tequila.
Guan Shan winced as a shooting pain lanced through him, striking dead centre in the space between his eyes like a rusty nail trying to screw its way through his skull. His heavy and only-somewhat-cooperative tongue rolled around a tart curse that would have had his mom smacking him upside the head and scolding him six ways to Sunday.
Fuck a cheese grater. Where was he?
Prying his eyes open, Guan Shan squinted into the dimly lit room, thankful that someone had had the foresight to draw the vertical blinds closed. The scintillating shimmer of a spring dawn spilt through the narrow gaps, casting the room and its slumbering occupants in hues of cerise and new beginnings.
Guan Shan didn’t recognise them, and he sure as fuck didn’t believe in new beginnings. Or second chances. He was forced to clench his teeth against a wave of nausea when he tried to sit up, his body stiff and protesting. He took a few steadying breaths through his nose as the rusty nail asserted itself once again, burrowing deeper and laying claim to his alcohol-addled brain.
The room was littered with the usual post-party detritus, but in place of ransacked snack bowls, disposable red cups and crushed beer cans, there were half-empty food platters, fully empty champagne bottles and a slew of personalised confetti.
It came him to then—Jian Yi and Zheng Xi’s engagement party.
He instantly regretted coming. Then, just as quickly, felt bad for even thinking it; Jian Yi was the closest thing Guan Shan had to a friend, even if Guan Shan would never admit it. But then he remembered how, in the face of his hesitation, Jian Yi had assured Guan Shan that he wouldn’t be attending. After all, he was halfway across the globe and had already sent his apologies and felicitations in the form of an outrageously luxurious RV disguised as an engagement gift.
Shit.
Guan Shan needed to get out of there.
He took his time levering himself to his feet, swaying a little as the room spun. Gingerly, he lumbered past the handful of dozing guests, most of them more scantily dressed than they had been at the beginning of the party, limbs twisted around a partner—or partners—a piece of upholstered furniture, or a bottle of top-shelf liquor.
The air was thick with the scents of warm, canoodling bodies, an eye-watering floral fragrance someone had drenched themselves in the night before and the lingering traces of eau de fuck mist. Wrinkling his nose, Guan Shan scowled at the thought of partygoers going at it right there in the living room whilst he was passed out drunk on the couch. What happened to having some goddamn decorum?
Meandering out into the hallway in search of his chukka boots, Guan Shan rubbed his temples and wondered if it was too early in the day for the Sunday trains to be running. He considered getting an Uber back to his place, but he was trying to save up—for a wedding gift, a fucking suit because the one he owned was only fit to be worn at funerals, smart shoes that hadn’t been bought at a thrift store, and a round or two of over-priced drinks at the joint bachelor bash Jian Yi was already twittering about.
Fuckin’-A. He’d need to budget more tightly than he already had been, but he consoled himself with the option of selling the suit and shoes second-hand post-wedding and making up for the difference by picking up a few more shifts at the restaurant.
And making do with less than three hours of sleep a night.
Putting his monetary worries to one side, Guan Shan spent the better half of a minute getting tangled in the loose end of a congratulations banner that had come half-undone from the wall. As he passed the kitchen, he caught the time on the microwave’s digital display: five fucking am. The first train wasn’t due til half six.
Mood souring, Guan Shan ran a frustrated hand through his shorn hair, a little stiff and sticky from the product he’d fingered through it last night. His stomach lurched when he noticed the wretched bottle of jalapeño-infused tequila on the breakfast bar and he wondered why he’d thought drinking himself to oblivion would be a good idea. Not only had it been one of his more foolish decisions, it hadn’t even fucking worked.
Guan Shan could remember, clear as day, how his mouth had dried up and his heart had dithered like a fucking damsel in distress when he’d spotted He Tian sauntering through Jian Yi and Zheng Xi’s verdant backyard. With his signature cocksure swagger, He Tian had garnered the attention of many a guest sprawled on rattan garden furniture. Guan Shan had envied them their insouciance as they sipped chilled champagne from sparkling glasses and got their fill of a fabulous ass furnished in dark denim. Guan Shan, on the other hand, had ensconced himself in the kitchen in an attempt to avoid crossing paths with his ex.
That, too, hadn’t fucking worked.
With an hour to kill, Guan Shan found himself in the guest bathroom, splashing his face with arctic-cold water in the hopes that it would chink away at the haze of his hangover. In anticipation of having overnight sojourners, Jian Yi or Zheng Xi—more likely the latter—had stacked a pile of sealed toothbrushes and bottles of mouthwash on the window ledge.
Guan Shan felt marginally human after he’d scrubbed his teeth and freshened up. He chanced a look in the mirrored cabinet above the sink and grimaced. His rose gold hair, which had been a deliberate mess of spikes at the beginning of the night was now nothing short of a grooming disaster. His cheeks were flushed from the cold wash, masking the dusting of freckles on his face that bloomed and waned with the seasons. Normally a blazing liquid copper, his eyes were a dull brass, tarnished by too many shots and not enough winks.
The mouth-watering aroma of morning coffee wafted through from under the bathroom door and Guan Shan hoped whoever was up was brewing it strong. He was downing a couple of Advil he’d filched from the small cabinet when he noticed a bruise peeking out from the collar of his shirt. He leaned closer to the mirror, trying to get a better look.
Motherfucker. It was an honest-to-fuck hickey.
As his already-shit mood took a nosedive, Guan Shan ground his molars, the flush on his cheeks deepening with anger. Who the fuck had put it there? And when? Guan Shan couldn’t remember making out with anyone last night and, given that he was fully clothed sans shoes, the necking session had probably not gone past first base.
Probably.
Had he been so blitzed out that he couldn’t remember letting someone suck a bruise on his person? Fuck.
Fuck!
Guan Shan’s ire took an ugly turn. He shouldn’t have put himself in that fucking position. He should’ve known better. Seeing He Tian had fucked him up and Guan Shan had responded by getting shitfaced.
Eyes stinging, Guan Shan swiped viciously at his face with another palmful of frosty water. Just as he turned to the toilet and unzipped his fly, the bathroom door swung open.
He Tian paused in his stride to blink at Guan Shan. Then proceeded to make his way to the sink.
“Do you fucking mind?” Guan Shan growled, ignoring the way his insides squirmed at the sight of a sleepy-looking He Tian: softly tousled locks, a rumpled silk shirt and black boxer briefs that were so tight his dick was one cough away from indecent exposure.
Opening the cabinet and rummaging through the contents, He Tian mumbled a curt, “Nope.”
Guan Shan knew he was on the verge of snapping, and he let his anger simmer to a boil as He Tian popped the cap off the Advil container and knocked back a few pills. When he was done guzzling a mouthful of water right from the tap, his gelid grey eyes slid to Guan Shan. He Tian lofted a dark brow and the motion shouldn’t have been as sensual as it was.
“It’s not like you haven’t pissed in front of me before,” He Tian mused. “In fact—”
“Finish that sentence and you’ll be shitting out your own teeth for the next year,” Guan Shan snarled.
A smirk ghosted He Tian’s lips and the challenge in his eyes made Guan Shan’s stupid heart stutter like a gin-soaked queen in stilettos. “—I distinctly recall how much it turned you on.”
The illusion that he had any self-control around He Tian shattered as Guan Shan pivoted on his heel and plunged towards the taller man, fists raised and powered up.
But He Tian was ready for him. He’d always been fucking ready for him.
Guan Shan’s knuckles barely grazed the hard-lined jaw it was aiming for as He Tian swiftly dodged to the side. When Guan Shan brought up his left elbow to ram it into He Tian’s obscenely, perfectly straight nose, He Tian ducked like he was made of liquid and not the stacked muscle Guan Shan knew was rolling under that naturally tan skin. He Tian countered with a friendly jab to Guan Shan’s kidney; it wasn’t meant to hurt, and it didn’t. But it did momentarily surprise Guan Shan and He Tian predictably took advantage of his hesitation.
The bathroom cabinet shook as Guan Shan’s back collided with the tiled wall.
He Tian closed in on him, outstretched arms boxing Guan Shan in from either side and leaving He Tian wide open to a counterattack, one that they both knew wouldn’t come.
Guan Shan blamed his sluggish reflexes on the hangover from hell and, this close up, he could see that He Tian hadn’t come away completely unscathed either from a night of liberal drinking and liberal morals.
His eyes were rimmed pink, half-lidded and weary. His weekend stubble was a velvet shadow that would have taken a younger He Tian a week to grow out. His post-party redolence was a mixture of faded cologne, the spicy notes of celebratory fizz, and a familiar musk that reminded Guan Shan of lazy mornings in bed, sun-warmed sheets, and an intimacy that didn’t involve swapping spunk.
Guan Shan’s throat tightened like a vice when he spied the flecks of dark red on He Tian’s crumpled white collar, and the grisly bite mark on the side of his neck that was responsible.
“I’ve barely said two words to you and you’re already trying to break my face,” He Tian drawled in a voice that was as deep as it was dark, and made all the more dangerous by a disarming smile. “What crawled up your ass this fine morning?”
Read the full fic here: Love Bites and Bruises
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Hisoka x reader!caught with another man
Earlier, I was just minding my own business innocently, like I always do, when I got the idea of angry Hisoka. One thing leading to another I ended up writing like a possessed mad woman and the result is me giving birth to 3k words of filth. I didn’t even know this kind of stuff were swimming in my brain, I have no idea what I just channeled. With that said I never wrote so fast so whatever it was it was working. So yeah enjoy. It’s almost 6am and I didn’t even reread it one last time before posting, I need a break and lots of sleep.
WARNING: NON CON, CUCKOLDING(KINDA???), PAINAL, VERY VERY TOXIC RELATIONSHIP, VIOLENCE, DEATH THREAT, MANIPULATION, VOYEUR, ANGRY TRASH CLOWN
You didn’t think it was a bad idea to spend some time with your friends and go to a club. It wasn’t a bad idea either to go home with some random pretty boy. Fucking him on your couch, even if it wasn’t mind blowing was still not a bad idea. No, you really fucked up when you didn’t noticed your phone ran out of battery a long time ago.
If you did you’d have seen Hisoka’s text telling you he was on his way to see you and you wouldn’t have been riding another man when he opened the door.
Hisoka looked at the scene with cold eyes for a moment before closing the door and leaning his back against it, arms crossed, lips pressed in a tight line.
“Hisoka… ” you couldn’t manage more than to whisper his name. “I’m sorry… I didn’t know… ” you swallowed hard, your mouth getting drier by the second under his gaze, “I didn’t know you were coming.”
Your random lover was bright red under you and started to try to get up, no doubt wanting nothing else than to be anywhere but here. You felt the same but unfortunately this was your flat and even if it wasn’t you knew Hisoka wouldn’t let you go that easily.
“Don,’t. Continue what you were doing.” Hisoka ordered when you got off of the other men’s laps.
“What?!” you and the pretty boy shouted at the same time. You looked at Hisoka and there was no trace of arousal in his demeanor, just cold anger. He wasn’t asking you to get fucked in front of him to get him off.
“Don’t make me repeat myself, love,” a card appeared between his fingers and your blood froze in your veins. No doubt he was serious.
“Listen man,”, the guy started and you panicked, you tried to hush him but he was oblivious to your attempts. “I don’t know what this is all about but I’m not into this shit. I’ll just leave and you guys can settle things between you, this has nothing to do with me.”
You blanched. Maybe you could beg, maybe Hisoka would forgive you, there was still a chance. But the other guy? So far Hisoka’s glare was intended for you, if he wanted to live he’d better not make himself too noticeable. When he tried to get up your grabbed his wrist to keep him seated.
Finally, he seemed to realize how serious the situation was when he turned to you, probably to complain, and saw your colorless face.
“But is has everything to do with you!” Hisoka insisted, “After all you’re participating in the game too. I’ll tell you the rule, it’s really simple,” a wicked smile was growing on his lips “The first one making the other come gets to live.”
“Please, Hisoka,” you pleaded.
A card flew past your head, scratching you cheek before embedding itself in your couch. You heard a squeal beside you but you were too shocked to move, your eyes fixated on the drops of blood that were falling from your face to your thigh.
“That’s your last warning,” he said in a low voice. With a flicker of his wrist Hisoka replaced the card he just threw by a new one. This one won’t just graze you if your were to continue arguing.
The other guy’s erection was long gone but you still removed the condom and grabbed his flaccid dick. There’s was no way you’d be able to come in this situation and the whimpering and ‘Oh God, what the fuck what the fuck what the...’ your partner was chanting like a mantra weren’t a good sign for him either. You weren’t sure Hisoka wouldn’t kill you if you were to lose the game but you’d hope that if at least you got along with his punishment he might calm down a little. Nonetheless, it was the best outcome. The other guy wouldn’t be spared if he was the one to lose, Hisoka wouldn’t have any insensitive to let him live. His body wasn’t cooperating with your attempt to save his life though, and in spite of your best effort you couldn’t get him hard.
“Try to not think about him, it’s going to be fine,” you whispered, trying to reassure him, albeit pitifully. “Just focus on me. I’ll come, I’ll definitely come.” You thought you smiled, but you wouldn’t be certain of what kind of face you made. The guy nodded, probably not believing in your comforting words but clinging to any hope he could get.
You cupped his cheek and turn his face so he’d look at you. As scared as he was he started to relax just a little bit. Until Hisoka spoke again.
“Pathetic,” you heard him scoff. “How long is it going to take?” he sighed and you clenched your teeth. “I told you to continue what you were doing before, not playing around.”
Hisoka walked to your terrified companion of misfortune and took a fistful of his hair, yanking his head painfully before bending close to his ear. “Fuck her like your life depends of it, because it does,” he growled. He released him and got back to his previous position against your door.
Hisoka’s threat was more effective than your soft encouragement, and a fear boner was something you could work with. Not wanting to lose any seconds you picked the guy’s jeans to fish another condom. Nothing was exciting and you weren’t wet in this situation but at least the lube from the condom would help. You started getting back on his lap before Hisoka interrupted again.
“Not like this, turn around and look at me,” he directed you. Hisoka knew the face you made during your orgasms and you assumed he’d want to check in case you thought of faking it. Not that you had any confidence in your acting skill at the moment. Keeping an eye for a cheating attempt was certainly a reason but it didn’t seem to be the only one. When you faced him you caught him palming the front of his pants but adorning the same cold expression. Ever the hedonist.
You started moving your hips, your partner seemingly too focus on keeping his erection to really help you out. Even before Hisoka came in the sex was nothing to write home about, now it was painful and you had no idea how you’ll manage to finish. You just prayed that fear ejaculation wasn’t a thing. Letting your mind wandered, you did your best to aroused yourself, pushing the danger of the plight you were in to a corner of your mind. Ironically, that was sex with Hisoka that you would start to remembered. Looking directly at him you still imagined it was him behind you, like all the time he has taken you on this very same couch. Slowly you started getting there, the sting gone, replaced by a quiet pleasure. Yet, your imagination only got you so far and you pussy was far for being as filled as with Hisoka.
You eyes trailed to Hisoka’s eyes to his arms, stomach and stopped on his hand rubbing his hardness. A soft moan escaped you when he gave his length a squeeze.
“Mh? Do you want this now?” he asked teasingly before stroking himself harder. “Riding a man’s cock while eyeing another’s…” Hisoka pushed his pants down just enough to free his throbbing erection, resuming his masturbation. “I knew you were a slut but your greed is boundless” he tutted.
Moving in rhythm with his hand, you bounce your ass more energetically. The pretty boy seemed more inclined in doing his part too and was starting to meet your ass with his own thrust, it was meek to say the least but he was an active participant now at last.
“She likes it hard,” Hisoka chimed. “If you want to win you’ll need to pick up the pace,” he added, giving pointer to the guy pounding you.
Grabbing your hips, your lover took Hisoka’s advice at heart and set a faster rhythm. He was really fucking you like his life depended on it. You moaned louder, eyes still glued on Hisoka’s cock eliciting the first moan from him too. You closed you eyes focusing only on the sounds of wet skins slapping and Hisoka’s voice, ignoring the grunting behind you. Only a few minutes of this symphony was enough to put you over the edge. Still, even in this situation you didn’t forget that Hisoka always wanted you to look at him in the eyes when you were coming. And so you did, you opened your eyes, your vision blurry, searching for his eyes. When you found them you let yourself go and cum loudly, shouting Hisoka’s name again and again.
As soon as you were finished Hisoka was beside you, holding a card against the poor guy throat.
“Get out,” he said without even looking at him. His other hand already around you to get you off of him.
The man didn’t even took the time to get dressed, he just picked his stuff and was out in a flash. At least he was alive and unscathed.
“You weren’t suppose to enjoy it you know,” he scolded you, throwing you back on the sofa.
“I’m sorry, I really didn’t know you were coming,” you panted both because of your orgasm and fear after you’ve lost his game.
“I’ve sent you a text well in advance. Where’s your phone?” he asked.
Getting up you grabbed your bag and searched for your phone. You gulped when you found it shut off. Hisoka took it from your hand.
“I-It ran out of battery … I didn’t noticed,” you explained but shut your mouth really fast when Hisoka crushed your phone with his hand.
“You have no use for it if you’re not even able to keep it charged.” He threw the already broken beyond repair phone against the wall. “I do like surprises but I really hate being ignored,” taking your face between his fingers, he pressed his nails painfully on your cheeks. “You know that. Don’t you, love?”
“I’m really sorry,” you whined, unable to prevent tears to start flowing. You had Hisoka being annoyed with you, irritable for no good reason and even sullen. Never have you seen him mad at you and it was frightening. The worst was his tone. He wasn’t screaming, on the contrary his voice was getting lower and quieter.
“Did you win because you were sure I wouldn’t kill you?” he mused. Hisoka wept your tears roughly, his nails scrapping at your skin. When you didn’t answered he insisted, grabbing your chin and placing his eyes only a few centimeters from yours. “Well? Were you so sure about your safety?”
“N-No. I wasn’t sure but I thought…” you swallowed a sob before continuing, “I thought… I mean I hoped you would be less mad if I did what you asked.” You sniffed loudly trying not to bawl.
“You know me well, it was a smart move,” Hisoka eased the pressure on your chin and chuckled. “I’m a tad less mad. Not that I intended to really kill you, but it was more fun to give you a motivation.” Pushing you on the couch he pushed back his pants lower, putting his still hard cock in front of you. “But maybe you didn’t need any motivation, you were moving like a bitch in heat on his cock.”
Your tears hadn’t even stop flowing and you were still shaking, you took a minute to calm yourself but it wasn’t enough. He’d have definitely killed the other guy, knowing your life alone was never at risk didn’t help your nerves when you were this close to witness a murder. It would have been your fault, just because of a dumb mistake. Honestly you just wanted the night to be over, you wanted Hisoka to hold you and to tell you it’s okay now, you needed that.
“Your punishment isn’t over, darling, you’re still the loser,” Hisoka was waiting for you to compose yourself patiently but his patience only goes so far when he’s hard.
“Hisoka, please, can you give me a hug?” you sobbed, pleading with your eyes.
“Oh,” he smiled almost softly and patted your head gently a couple of time. “I wish I could, love, I really do. But bad girls don’t get hugs now, do they?” he sighed as if refusing you was painful for him. “Now get me nice and wet, it’ll be easier for you,” he pushed the tips of his cock against your lips and you sobbed one last time before opening your mouth.
You sucked him off almost mechanically, you knew by heart the spots he liked the most and your body was moving on instinct at this point. When he pushed deeper into your mouth you relaxed your jaw without thinking about it, moving your tongue at the right place to leave him enough room to fuck your throat. You expected him to finish like that and were surprised when he removed his cock.
“On the couch now, ass up,” he said in a breath, giving your ass cheek a slap when you positioned yourself as he asked.
Climbing behind you, hand on your hips, he started to push the tip of his cock against your hole but once again it wasn’t what you were expecting.
“Hisoka! I’m not ready, it’s not going to fit!” you panicked as he continued to push against your asshole. It wasn’t your first time doing anal but you never attempted it without a good dose of lube and foreplay. You gasps as the tip went in, the stretch was painful and you bit your lips to not whimper.
“Hush, hush, it’s your punishment,” He pushed harder and you let out a cry. Hisoka moaned. “You didn’t think I’d get some sorry guy’s sloppy second?”
You tried to bear the pain, you really did but when Hisoka bottomed out and start to thrust roughly you felt like you were about to pass out.
“Please it hurts, it hurts, please,” you repeated, incapable to manage a proper sentence, wailing between words. You were really going to break if this continued. You brain was telling you to relax but your body was in shock.
“Just a bit longer,” Hisoka panted. “Almost there.” he put his hand in front of your mouth, “Bite, it’ll helps.”
Taking anything to distract you from the pain you bite hard on his offered hand. Hisoka let out a long groan before thrusting faster. You tasted blood on your tongue and the saltiness of your own tears rolling down into your mouth but you kept biting harder, you knew it was almost over.
With a moan and a last slap of his hips Hisoka finally came, his fingers crushing your hip but you didn’t even noticed it.
His dick slid outside of you and you took a deep breath, the pain didn’t disappear but it was more mute and you didn’t feel like you were going to break anymore.
Hisoka got out of his clothes and carried you to the bathroom, holding you in the shower while he was washing you. At this point you were barely conscious and let him moved you around to get you in the position he wanted to clean you up. In the same fashion he dried you in silence, sitting you between his laps when it was obvious you couldn’t stand on your own.
Finally he carried you to bed, laying with you and resting your head on his shoulder. When he hugged you close you started bawling.
“It’s okay, love. I’m not mad anymore,” he consoled, littering your head with kisses, his hand stroking your back. “I know you won’t do it again.” He held you like that until your tears ran out and you fell asleep.
When you woke up it was already late in the afternoon and Hisoka wasn’t in bed. You cried out when you tried to sit and went back to lay down on your stomach. You were thinking on how you’ll be able to manage the next days if you couldn’t walk and how you were without a phone when the bedroom’s door opened.
Hisoka sat next to you, caressing your head for a while before leaning in for a kiss. He was smiling like he usually did. The events of the previous night felt like it was only a nightmare, the pain was the only reminder that it actually happened.
“It was scary,” you said in a quiet voice.
“I know, love,” he acknowledged.
Hisoka played with your hair for a while longer before leaving the room and coming back with a plastic bag. He emptied the content on the bed and you crooked your neck curiously to see what is was. The effort wasn’t needed because Hisoka was about to show you. He placed a donuts shaped pillow next to you and helped you sat on it. You winced when he moved you but it didn’t hurt to sit at least. Next he took a tube of cream and put a generous amount on his finger before applying it on spots on your face. Once done, he put the tube down before taking a different one.
“This one’s for your ass. I presumed you’d want to do it yourself?” he hummed, eyes crinkling with amusement. Amusement wasn’t what you were feeling and you shivered at the simple suggestion. You quickly nodded and took the medicine from him.
“You missed breakfast and lunch, you must be hungry. I’ll make some pancakes and we can eat in bed,” Hisoka kissed the tip of your nose twice before getting up.
“Are you staying tonight?” you finally asked. After last night you wanted more of the Hisoka in front of you. The one who always smiled, who kissed your nose and made you breakfast food for diner.
“You don’t want me to?” he turned around and smiled.
“I want you to stay,” you admitted.
“Good, because I was planning to stay more than a few days,” you beamed at his words. Having Hisoka for more than a night or two was rare in itself but he never spend multiple days with you. “Your antics yesterday really did sour our time together, I expect to leave on a happier note,” he continued and your own mood start plummeting. “Don’t make this face, love. It’s in the past. I told you, I’m no longer mad,” he laughed, “Now let’s have fun!”
#hxh#hunter x hunter#hisoka#hisoka scenario#hisoka morow#smut#tw noncon#tw pain#no seriously#I don't condone this kind of relationship irl#that's not the first filthy thing I wrote#but I especially feel the need to say it loud#and clear#this time#This is going to be awkward when i'll reread it tomorrow#when the sun's up#anyway#I'm fine#this is fine
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Deliverance From Evil
Pairing: DARK!Dean Winchester x Reader (?), Sam x Reader (platonic)
Word Count: 11,054
Warnings: TRIGGER WARNING: Non-con, rape, physical and mental/emotional abuse. Ages 18+, virgin!reader, language, mentions of depression/anxiety, curse, purgatory, purgatory!Dean, hateful remarks, negative self image, mentions of suicidal thoughts, not enough editing to satisfy me. Please let me know if I missed any triggers/warnings.
Rating: Mature- 18+!! If I find that you are under 18, you will be blocked. Go read some of my minor friendly stories.
Summary: Dean Winchester had two sides; the selfless, caring man who loved his baby brother, car, and pie; and the cruel, sadistic man who was hell bent on making Y/n’s life a living hell. When Dean, Cas, and Y/n are sucked into Purgatory, things take a turn for the worse. Two years later, Y/n finds herself face to face with the man who broke her. A new discovery leads to Y/n finding out the truth, yet sometimes, the truth is better left unsaid.
A/N- This story is very dark and can be triggering to some readers. Please do not read if any of the above warnings are triggering to you. I have also listed some resources below if you are in need of help. I love you all!
Bingo squares: @spndarkbingo (Purgatory!Dean) // @badthingshappenbingo (This is for your own good) // @spndeanbingo (Soulmates AU)
U.S. National Sexual Violence Hotline: 800.656.4673
U.S. National Domestic Abuse Hotline: 800.799.7233
The idea of Purgatory wasn’t what put me on edge. It wasn’t the monsters constantly down your throat, or the blood, sweat, and tears that somehow never seemed to stop. It was Dean Winchester’s sinister stare and cruel remarks that put me on edge.
I didn’t hate the man. If I was being honest, I felt quite the opposite, but it was more of a feeling of distress. Ever since meeting him, something about me had made him loathe me. I wasn’t sure what it was, nor have I ever asked, but whatever it is, I have never been able to make him at least tolerate me.
Sam and I had met in college. I was a freshman when he was a senior, and he tutored me for a while. We became friends, and soon we found out the both of us had gone to college to escape the hunting life. We grew apart for years, naturally coming back together on a hunt.
I had been at the bunker with the Winchesters ever since, much to the elder brother’s dismay. And ever since then, Dean had made it his job to make my life a living hell.
It started out as small jabs at me; little comments that had an underlying, cruel meaning to them. Or forgetting to pick me up from police stations, houses, etc, or not bringing back food for me. But slowly, it evolved into something more. He began openly being cruel towards me, saying things that made me cry in bed at night. He’d shove me when Sam wasn’t looking, he’d purposely break my things, bleach my clothes, point out my insecurities for a laugh.
I honestly thought the bullying ended in high school.
I hadn’t fallen in love with the person he was towards me. I had fallen in love with the person he was to others. He was selfless and caring. He was brave, intelligent, and had a killer sense of humor. And the simple sight of him made me weak at the knees. But whenever his words were spoken to me, or his glare was pointed at me, I sometimes forgot who he was when he wasn’t hating me.
Something must have been wrong with me. How could I love a man who was so ruthlessly callous to me? Although I had tried to stop the feelings, it was like an inexplicable pull vehemently caused me to fall into a confusing love with this man. It was unstoppable, and however much I prayed or wished for it to leave, the feeling never ceased.
“Hey, Y/N!” I jumped as Dean barked at me, and I snapped myself out of it, looking towards him. “Get your head out of the damn clouds and move your ass.”
I sighed, hoisting my makeshift bag onto my shoulder, trudging after him and Benny.
After Dean killed Dick Roman, he, Cas and I were swallowed into Purgatory along with the Leviathan, too close to the impact sight, apparently. I immediately knew I was fucked when Dean looked at me dead in the eyes when we landed and told me he’d rather go to hell than be stuck with me in a place like this.
“We need her, Dean,” Cas had said. Dean had rolled his eyes, scoffing.
“We need her like we need the plague, Cas,” he snarled. I flinched at his words, and I closed my eyes for a moment to keep the tears at bay. “I mean for fucks sake.”
“Look, the way I see it, I don’t care if you hate her, but we need all the help we can get. And she’s a good hunter despite everything else you, for some reason, hate about her.”
It was the first time someone had stood up for me. It wasn’t long, however, before Dean and I were on our own, Cas seemingly taking off after a particularly rough fight. He ignored me the whole time, not saying any words to me, but using his shoulder to roughly shove me out of his way from time to time. The way I saw it, he wasn’t verbally abusing me anymore. I could manage a few shoves.
When Benny joined our team of two, Dean began speaking again, and we continued the search for Cas.
So here we were now, walking through the dense forest of Purgatory, eyes and ears constantly alert. It was like the start of a bad joke; two hunters and a vampire walk through purgatory…
“Don’t mind him, Cher,” Benny murmured to me. “He’s in a mood.”
“He’s always in a mood around me, Benny,” I said. “Nothing I do will ever change that.”
“Benny, quit gossiping with her and get over here,” Dean said, voice hushed. He was crouched down over the edge of a cliff, Benny and I making our way to crouch on either side of him. Dean shot me a dirty look, and he turned slightly towards Benny.
“What is it?” The vampire asked. Dean nodded his head to the valley at the bottom of the ridge.
“Leviathans,” Dean said. “Took out a small pack of wolves a few minutes ago.”
I shivered, watching as one of the leviathans picked up a severed limb, inspecting it before tossing it to the side.
“Shit. That was our path, wasn’t it?” Benny asked. Dean nodded.
“Yeah, and I’m not really in the mood to get into a fight with a bunch of leviathans right now,” he said.
“I don’t blame you, chief,” Benny agreed. “But what are we going to do now?”
I glanced to the left, eyes roaming the cliff side. It was high above the creatures below, and it fed to another cliff edge on the other side. It would be above our path, but most likely would run parallel alongside it. There seemed to be good footwells along the cliffside, and I struggled to get the courage up to speak.
“I have an idea,” I said. Both men looked over at me, interest on Benny’s face and annoyance on Dean’s.
“The adults are talking,” Dean said.
“Let her talk, chief,” Benny said, patting his friend on the back. “Go ‘head, cher.”
I swallowed. “The side of the cliff: it’s hidden by the tops of the trees. But-” I pointed to the other edge- “if we are careful enough, we could climb across and get to the other landing. I’m guessing the otherside runs parallel to our original path, it’ll just be higher.”
“Smart,” Benny said, giving me a smile. “Real good.”
“How the hell are you going to climb across the side of a damn cliff?” Dean asked, raising a brow. “You can barely hold up your axe.”
I bit my lip. “I’ll manage. And I can, too, hold up my axe. I’m not weak.”
Suddenly I was being shoved onto my back, my hands being pressed into the dirt as Dean held my wrists. He straddled my waist, his face inches from mine.
“Push me off,” he hissed, eyes furiously burning through my skull. I struggled beneath his hold. I was strong, but Dean was stronger, and no matter how much I bucked and pushed and pulled, he wouldn’t budge.
He let go of me for a moment, and I shoved at his chest, quickly being held down again with one hand while his other held a knife to my throat.
“You know, it would be so easy to end you right now,” he growled. My eyes widened in fear. “I wouldn’t have to hear your whiny, sniveling voice anymore and see your pathetically hideous face.”
I couldn’t stop the tears from pooling in my eyes.
“It would put us all out of our misery.”
“That’s enough, Dean,” Benny said, now on his feet.
“The bitch needs to be taught a lesson,” Dean said, pressing harder. I whimpered, fear clutching my heart in its grasp as he smirked darkly at me. “Don’t you… bitch?”
“Get off me, Dean,” I said, bucking beneath him again. He laughed, hand squeezing my wrists tighter. “Stop it.”
In a blink of an eye, he had reared the blade back, bringing it shooting back down until it stabbed into the ground beside my head. I flinched away from it, eyes squeezing shut as he was being pulled off me.
“What the hell is your problem?” Benny asked, pushing Dean against a tree. “What the fuck has she ever done to you?”
“What do you mean? Just look at her,” Dean said.
“Give me a reason, chief,” Benny snarled. “Give me one good reason why you terrorize that poor woman.”
Dean hesitated, his mouth agape as he thought for a moment. I was sitting up, hand on my throat as I watched carefully as he closed his mouth and set his jaw, eyes casting downwards.
“That’s what I thought,” Benny muttered, letting him go. Dean took a deep breath, looking up at me for a moment.
“Fine. We’ll do it your way.” He bent down to pick up his sword, slinging it over his shoulder onto his back before making his way to the cliff side.
Benny helped me to my feet, hands cradling my head as he inspected my neck. There was a small nick from Dean’s blade, but I was relatively unscathed.
“Alright, cher,” Benny began, hands gently resting on my shoulders. “You stick with me, okay? I won’t let Dean touch you again.”
I swallowed thickly, nodding my head as he patted my back. He pulled me in for a quick hug before following after Dean.
***
The next three days had gone by in a blur. We had yet to find Cas, and Dean was getting impatient. It was a constant surge of monsters and a constant physical battle with ourselves as we pushed through the fights, trying to swallow back our bile at the blood and guts that inevitably found itself onto our clothes.
I was washing up in the river, a little way through the trees from a camp we had set up for the night. I had carefully peeled off my bloodstained clothes, washing my body as best I could with the river’s water before attempting to clean my jeans and shirt. I scrubbed at them until the blood was simply an ugly stain, tossing the garments onto a nearby rock to dry. I was midway running water over my hair when suddenly arms were lifting me up, eliciting a squeal from my lips. A hand clamped over my mouth and I was dragged back behind the rocks. I struggled in the arms of my captor, rearing my head back and bashing it into their nose. They grunted, and they let go.
I spun around, fists raised, eyes widening.
“Dean? What the hell?” I asked, covering my stomach. My chest was still covered by my bra, and the water was deep enough to cover the bottom half of me, but I felt naked under Dean’s intense gaze. I glance around, spotting my clothes on the boulder. I grabbed at them, pulling the shirt over my head before my jeans were ripped away from me and thrown to the side. “Hey!”
His lips crashed against mine in a bruising force, hand tangling in my hair as he snaked an arm around my waist, crushing my body against his. My hands flew to his chest and I tried to push him away, confusion and fear coursing through my veins as he wouldn’t let go.
I bit down on his lip, and he reared back with a small yelp, touching where blood began to seep from the bite. I pulled my shirt on as he was distracted and backed away from him, arms curling around my torso.
“What the fuck was that?” He asked, wiping away the blood. I stared at him, mouth dropping.
“What the fuck was that?” I yelled. He raised a brow. “You don’t just come onto a girl like that! Especially after treating her like you treat me!”
“I… huh?”
“Are you seriously playing dumb right now?” I asked, brows drawing together. “You can’t be that fucking idiotic.”
“Look, I’m sorry, okay? For everything. But here’s the thing,” he said, moving closer to me. I moved back until I was pressed against the rock. “We’ve been here for almost a year, right? Neither of us have gotten any within that time. You just looked hot down here in the water, and I see the way you look at me sometimes so I just thought, ‘hey, why not?’”
How long had I dreamed a moment like this would happen? Too many times. More than I’d care to admit. But did I really want to be with Dean for the first time like this? With him hating my guts, simply wanting a quick fuck in Purgatory pf all places? Fuck no.
I scoffed, shaking my head. “You’re shitting me.”
“No.”
I ran a hand through my damp hair. “I… I can’t believe a word that’s coming out of your mouth right now. You think I’m hideous! You’ve said so multiple times, so you’re full of shit! And just so you know, you don’t just jump onto a girl and assume she wants the same thing you do. Besides, who wouldn’t be attracted to you, for fuck’s sake? It doesn’t mean I want to fuck you! God, Dean! You hate me!”
“I don’t hate you…”
“Yes, you do! You’ve bullied me like a damn middle schooler since the moment you met me!”
He sighed, jaw clenching. “Fine. You know what? Forget it.” He moved past me, stopping for a second. “And all have you know, it’s not that I hate you. It’s just that I can’t stand to be around you for more than ten minutes without wanting to put a gun in my mouth. And you’re right, I do think you’re hideous, and my god does your personality make you fucking ugly inside and out. If you don’t want work done on your face, at least work on that. Maybe then you could find someone willing to put up with you.”
He left then, leaving me speechless. I collapsed against the rock, silent sobs racking my body. I hated myself, and Dean thrived on that fact. I had no idea what I had ever done to him, nor did I understand how someone could be so cruel. But there was one thing I did know for sure; Dean Winchester was absolutely hell bent on breaking me.
***
I combed my hair out with my fingers, eyes staring out over the water.
It was nearly a week after my confrontation with Dean, and he had gone back to ignoring me. I was okay with it, not minding the silence after the cruel words. I always relied on my friendship with Benny to get me through, but it seemed as though he was pulling away from me, too.
I sighed, my hands finding themselves on the dirt beneath me. They were filthy, no matter how many times I scrubbed at them with moss and water, the blood and mud wouldn’t rid itself from my skin.
Suddenly, something went soaring through the air in front of my face, a blade lodging itself in the tree beside me. I fell back, flattening myself on the ground as I looked to the side, seeing Dean standing twenty feet from me, a dark smirk on his face, Benny shaking his head behind him.
“What the hell, Dean!” I shouted, scrambling to my feet. “You could’ve killed me!”
“But I didn’t,” he said, walking towards me. He reached past me, eyes locked on mine as he retrieved the knife from the bark. “Don’t be so dramatic.”
“Don’t be so… are you fucking with me?” I asked, watching as he turned around and shrugged off his jacket.
“Just drop it, cher,” Benny said, rolling his eyes. I set my jaw and turned away, swallowing back the anger brewing inside my chest. I folded my arms over each other, biting down on my tongue until I drew blood. “I’m going to scout the area. See if I can’t find a better place to set up camp.”
I inwardly groaned at the thought of being alone with Dean, and watched from the corner of my eye as Benny made his way through the trees, Dean leaning against one to stare at me. He was twirling his blade around in his fingers, his smirk not fading from his face. I shifted uncomfortably.
“So, I’ve been thinking,” Dean began.
“Don’t hurt yourself,” I muttered. He stopped twirling the knife, smirk fading to replace his expression with a stoic, hard one.
“I’ll give you one more chance at this, Y/N,” he said. He walked toward me slowly, and I backed away a bit.
“At what?” I asked, now pressed against a tree. Dean didn’t stop moving until he could press his palm against the tree, leaning into it as he bent down until he was eye level with me.
“I think you know.” His eyes flickered down to my lips, his tongue running out to wet his own. I shivered as he lowered his face to the side of my head, nose pressing into my hair to take a deep breath in.
“Dean, please, I don’t-”
“You know, I bet you’re still a virgin,” he interrupted, ignoring my words. I tried pushing against his chest but he took my hands in his, bringing them behind my back and crushing me further into the tree. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with anyone. Although, I’m not surprised.”
“Dean, stop it,” I said harshly, but once again my words went unheard, and he nipped my collarbone.
“Fuck, a virgin pussy sounds so good right now.”
“I said stop, Dean!” I cried, pushing harder against him. He retaliated, quickly holding both of my hands in one of his in order to press against my throat with the other.
“I don’t give a fuck about what you said,” he hissed. “The only reason you’re alive is because of me. Face it, you wouldn’t have made it on your own, and the only reason that I haven’t killed you myself yet is because Sam would kill me when we get back.” He crushed his lips to mine, all teeth and rough pressure as he shoved his tongue into my mouth. He rolled his hips against me, and my stomach churned. “I haven’t had any in a long time, Y/N. I need to let off some steam, and you owe me.” He pulled back to look into my teary eyes. “Answer me this… are you a virgin?”
I clenched my jaw. “Let go of me.”
He growled and slapped me, a yelp escaping my lips as he gripped my chin, bashing my head back against the bark. “I will find out one way or another, I’m just curious.”
I swallowed, teeth sinking into my tongue. I’ve had two boyfriends in the past, if I could even call them that. I had only gone on a few dates with both of them, but never went further than second base. I was twenty-four and never worried about still being a virgin.
Until now.
I didn’t want my first time being like this; raped in purgatory by the man who hates me, and who I was utterly afraid of; raped by a man I had unwillingly fallen in love with.
I gave a short nod, and he smiled darkly. “Not surprising, but definitely exciting.”
“Dean, please don’t do this,” I said, struggling against his hold. “Please.”
“Benny will be back soon, so we need to make this quick,” he said. And suddenly, his hand was off my throat and on the button of my jeans.
“No!” I snarled, trying to kick at him, but he wedged his knee between my legs, and I was completely trapped.
His hand was inside my pants and down the front of my panties without hesitation, and I cringed at the thought of the dirt and blood that coated both of our skin. His fingers ran through my folds, thumb finding my clit quickly. I squeezed my eyes shut as nausea washed over me, and my body went rigid at the alien feeling of someone else’s hands down there. A tear trickled down my cheek, and Dean bent forward to lick it up.
“Come on, baby,” he cooed mockingly. “Just go with it. There’s nothing you can do to stop it anyway.”
I reared back as far as I could to spit in his face. He flinched back in surprise, his face morphing from cocky and dark to menacing, and I was thrown to the ground roughly within a second, Dean quickly hovering over me and holding me down before I could move away.
“I was trying to make this better for you, I truly was,” he said, beginning to undo his belt. I shuddered and squirmed beneath him. “But now, you’ve just pissed me off. So I don’t give a fuck if you’re ready or not.”
He shoved his jeans down far enough to free his cock from his boxers, moving back to tear at my own jeans and panties and drag them down my legs. I flipped around and began crawling away, but he gripped my ankle and turned me around onto my back.
“I want to see you,” he grunted, hands spreading my legs enough for him to fit between them. I looked down at his prick, eyes widening as I saw the size of him, and he laughed. “You’re in for it now, sweetheart.”
He stroked himself a few times before lining up with my entrance. I didn’t stop struggling, hands trying to claw at his face, my eyes blurring from my tears. He gripped both of my wrists in one of his hands while the other held himself until the tip was resting against me, and then he moved his hand to grip my waist harshly.
He forced himself inside me in one painful thrust, and a scream of pain was ripped from my throat. Dean smirked, relishing in the fact he had just torn through my virginity with such cruelty and violence. He groaned as he began to move. My hands slumped against him, knowing it was no use. He was much stronger than me, and he had already gotten what he wanted.
“I knew you’d like this,” he hissed in my ear, pulling out just to snap back in. “A bitch born to take a cock. My cock.”
The last shred of my innocence was taken within a second, and each time he shoved himself inside me, it took everything in me not to burst into tears. I turned my face away from him, eyes squeezed as tight as I could in order to try and disassociate myself, praying that this was simply but a dream.
But as he hiked up my leg around his waist to angle himself deeper inside me, I knew it wasn’t a dream, but a nightmare, one born to tear down my walls and shatter the last of my will. I knew Dean Winchester was intent on breaking me, but I didn’t know he’d take it to such extremes.
“Shit,” he cursed, plunging himself deeper and deeper with each thrust until he couldn’t go any further. I bit my lip to keep in my cries of pain, nails sinking into the palms of my hand.
His hips began to stutter, his movements choppy and I knew he was close. I dug my nails in deeper until I felt blood trickle from my fingers. His hand gripped my jaw, turning my head.
“Look at me,” he growled, holding himself to the hilt inside me until I complied. He smirked at the tears that trickled from my eyes, and slammed himself home once, twice, three more times before he came. He held his hips flush to my pelvis, eyes still locked with mine as he spilled himself inside me.
He gave a few more lazy humps, making sure he didn’t waste a single drop of his come before slipping out, sitting back on his haunches and taking a deep breath. “Wow.”
I sniffled, scooting as far away as possible as I pulled up my panties and jeans with shaky hands, trying to hold back the sobs and failing. I brought my hand up to my mouth, biting my sleeve to stifle the cries threatening to echo off the trees, and brought my knees up to my chest.
“Shit, sweetheart,” Dean said smiling. He laughed, shaking his head. “You felt better than I thought.” He sighed, standing up then and looked down at me. “Benny will be back soon. So pull yourself together before then. Say one word to him about this, I’ll kill you.”
I nodded in understanding, and he grunted.
He grabbed his axe and turned away, trudging off into the woods for his usual search for firewood.
In the five minutes he was gone, I took the time to pack up the few belongings I had, and without turning back, I ran for the hills.
Two Years Later
The nightmares never faded.
They had become less frequent, yet every few days or so, I’d run from the images inside my own head, battling demons within me instead of on the battlefield. Being scared of someone or something is one thing, but being scared of your own mind, your own dreams, was an entirely different thing, and it took strength to lay down and risk the possibility of reliving old trauma.
Yet, it was inevitable, after everything that had happened. Therapy helped, so did the anti-depressants and anxiety pills I took each night. But the truth of the matter was, the memories of Purgatory were always there, and the guilt and shame never faded, it simply turned into a dull ache that never truly went away.
Running from Dean, I was sore and bleeding, and all I cared about was keeping as much distance between him and I as possible. I listened to the whispers of the monsters, making sure I was never too close.
Dean got out before I did, just two months after I ran, and it was only a few days later that I found the portal. I didn’t even try to contact Sam, because where Sam went, Dean went.
Instead, I changed my name and set up a life for myself in a small town up in the mountains of West Virginia. I got a job at a police station as a victim advocate, got an apartment, and never once looked back.
Quitting hunting wasn’t easy, and every once in a while I’d take a case close to home. But I typically stayed within the state, not wanting to risk running into the brothers on a hunt.
Over those two years, I slowly began to rebuild my walls. However, in a split second, it all came crumbling down again.
It was a Monday afternoon in October. A cool front had washed over the Virginias and Maryland, finally carrying a crisp, sweet wind to cool our skin from the sweltering heat of the summer.
I was walking back to the station from lunch, having ran to a sandwich shop a block away. I was chewing on my lip and thinking about a particular case when I saw it; the sleek black coat of the Impala.
I felt my stomach drop, and I felt like I would be sick. Surely it couldn’t be the brothers. Other people had this particular car, too. But my fears were confirmed when the door to the station opened, and Sam walked out into the wind, leaves scattering around his feet, Dean right behind him.
I was frozen with fear. All the progress I had made had diminished in a second. I wanted to turn and run the other way. I wanted to duck into the alley and wait until they were gone. But I couldn’t move. My limbs were suddenly planted and my body lost the ability to move as the man who had made my life hell for years and haunted my dreams stepped into the sun.
Sam looked around as Dean led the way to the Impala. There was nothing I could do as his eyes landed on me, the surprised look on his face making me wince, the fearful one on mine catching him off guard.
“Y/N?” He asked. I saw Dean stiffen at the sound of my name, and I suddenly regained the ability to move. I spun on my heel and rushed into the alley, hoping to make it around to the back of the station and slip inside unseen. But Sam’s long legs made it so he was faster than me, and no amount of sprinting could keep me far enough away. He stepped in front of me, and my eyes widened. “Y/N… I… You’re alive.”
I swallowed thickly, looking over my shoulder. I tensed as I saw Dean at the end of the alley, his face hard and jaw clenched as he met my eyes. I looked back at Sam, shaking my head and stepping around him.
“I have to get back to work,” I said, trying to push past him.
“Wait!” He said, gripping my arm. I flinched, and he let go immediately.
“Sam,” I said, looking up at him. He tilted his head in confusion at the look of defeat on my face. “Please.”
“I don’t understand,” he muttered. “Dean said you were dead. That you died when you were in Purgatory.”
“A part of me did,” I admitted. Sam’s face darkened at my words, and I looked away. “And if you love me, you’d stay away from me. For good.”
“I thought I lost my best friend, Y/N,” Sam said. “I can’t just let you go now, knowing you’re alive.”
“Sam, please,” I begged. “Please.”
“Why?” He demanded.
“Just let her be, Sam.”
My breath hitched in my throat, and I looked back over towards Sam. Dean had caught up to us and was standing beside his brother now, a dark look on his face. His stare was icy, and it sent shivers down my spine. I shivered when he licked his lips, eyes raking up and down my body and suddenly I was back in Purgatory, his predatory gaze sending me reeling to a time of pain and misery.
“Y/N!”
I jumped, realizing Sam had been trying to get my attention for some time now. I looked up at him, worrying my lip, tears filling my eyes. “Sam, I can’t do this.”
“Can’t do what? Why did Dean lie? What the hell happened in Purgatory?” He asked.
“Dean didn’t…” I trailed off, rolling my eyes with a scoff. “No, I guess he wouldn’t tell you what happened.”
“Y/N,” Dean warned, stare turning deadly.
“Shut up, Dean,” Sam snapped. “Y/N, you can tell me anything.”
“No, I can’t,” I said, shaking my head. “Your brother will kill me.”
“No, he won’t. I won’t let him,” Sam said. “Now please, I miss my best friend. Let me help you.”
“You can’t help me,” I said. “Not anymore. Purgatory was shitty in itself, but Dean…”
I was suddenly pushed up against the brick wall, a yelp escaping me as Dean’s hand wrapped around my throat, his body pressed against mine. I shivered in fear, visibly shaking as his lips curled into a snarl.
“Dean!” Sam exclaimed, trying to pry his brother off me.
“What did I tell you would happen if you told anyone?” Dean hissed. I beat at his hands, trying to kick out at him.
“Dean…”
“I’ll kill ‘ya,” he said. “I’ll do it right now. Don’t. Say. A. Word.”
Tears trickled down my cheeks, and Sam was able to tear Dean off me, pushing him up against the opposite wall.
“What the fuck?” He yelled. He pushed off his brother, turning towards me, placing his hands gently on my shoulders. His voice softened then. “Are you okay?”
“I really need to… to get back to work,” I whispered. I was still shaking, and Sam’s fingers tightened slightly, almost as if he was trying to steady me.
“Can I come see you after work? I’ll meet you here and walk you home?”
I glanced over Sam’s shoulder towards Dean. His jaw was set, and he gave a shake of his head.
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” I murmured. I watched a smirk grow on Dean’s face, and I shivered.
“I’m sorry. But I don’t care. I’ll meet you here, okay? At five?”
I nodded.
“Okay. See you then.” He turned slightly. “He won’t be coming, don’t worry.”
The brothers stared at each other intently, and I scurried off as quick as I could, clutching the brown bag in my hand to my chest, not trusting my hands not to shake.
It was my luck that they would end up here, out of all the towns and all the cases in the continental U.S., they had to end up here. There was one thing I was sure about; I wouldn’t be meeting Sam, nor would I be going back to work. I forgot all about my few belongings in the office, beelining to my car, readying myself to pack and be out of town by tonight.
***
I didn’t have much in terms of belongings. It didn’t take long to pack, and I had no set destination. If I had a set destination, I could be found.
I was taping up the few boxes I had, picking up a few odds and ends, figuring I would leave the furniture and have the building owner sell it. Just as I was finishing, three sound knocks were rapped on my door.
I froze.
I wasn’t expecting anyone, and I hadn’t made any friends since moving to town. No one would be coming here unannounced. No one except the Winchesters. They had their ways of finding where I lived. Sam probably asked around the station.
“Fucking Sam,” I muttered to myself. I pushed myself up off the floor, stalking to my front door. “So not cool.”
I unlocked the door, keeping the deadbolt in, before opening it.
My heart jumped to my throat.
“Dean?” I asked. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“You didn’t show up to your meet-up with Sammy,” he said. He glanced around my door, stuffing his hands in his pockets, nodding. “Simple and plain. It suits you.”
“Go away, Dean,” I said. “I have cop friends and I’m not afraid to call them. Just go.”
Dean laughed. “Please. We both know you’re not friends with any of them. Besides, what would you tell them? You know what will happen if you say anything.”
“Fuck off, Dean,” I hissed. I went to close the door, but Dean was quick to stick his foot out, wedging it between the door and the frame.
“Nuh uh uh,” he tsked. “Won’t you invite me in, little pig?”
I swallowed. “No.”
“Oh, but why?” He asked, smirking. “You scared?”
I lifted my chin, standing up straighter. “No.”
He chuckled darkly, bending slightly to meet my eye level. “I think we both know that’s a lie, little pig.”
“Get the fuck away from me, Dean,” I hissed. I kicked at his foot sharply, unwedging it, promptly slamming my door shut in the process, turning the lock. I backed away from the door, feeling under the small table near the front door for my gun.
I screamed as my door was kicked in, wood splintering off the frame. Dean laughed, stepping past the threshold, kicking the door closed behind him. It didn’t quite close all the way, but enough so Dean could slip the chain into its lock.
“Here’s Johnny,” he teased, smiling. My eyes widened, and I gripped the gun, ripping it from its confinement, lifting my arm to shoot. Dean moved quickly, knocking the gun from my hand, pushing me back against the wall. He thrusted forward, crashing his lips to mine in a sloppy kiss.
“Miss me?”
“Get away from me!” I screeched. “Help! Somebody please help me!”
I sobbed as he fisted his hand in my hair, bashing my head back against the wall.
“You fucking bitch,” he hissed. “Almost telling Sammy about our little roll around. What did I tell you, hmm? Have you told anyone else?”
My eyes were blurred from the tears. Somehow my nightmares were coming true. Somehow hell had shown up at my front door, rearing its ugly head and laughing as fear twisted my insides and made my head spin. What had I done to deserve this?
“No,” I said. “I haven’t told anyone. I won’t tell anyone. Please just leave me alone.”
He ran a hand down my face, thumb smearing my tears across my skin. “Oh, but I can’t do that. You disobeyed me. You made Sam skeptical. You must be punished.”
“No,” I cried. “Please, Dean. Please don’t do this.”
He gripped my hair tighter, jerking me down the hall, my fists beating against him the whole time, fighting, kicking, screaming. He simply bent down, picking me up, and carried me into my room. He threw me onto my bed, hands gripping my thighs as he flipped me over onto my stomach.
“Now, bad girls must be punished,” he said. He reached underneath me, fingers unbuttoning my jeans. I kicked back at him, my heel meeting the fleshy part of his thigh. He grunted, and I clawed away from him, but he simply pulled me back down. “Well, that just made things so much worse for you.”
He yanked my jeans down, throwing them somewhere in the room, hands tearing at my simple cotton panties. Tears blurred my vision, and I desperately tried to crawl away. I fisted my hands on the mattress, trying to somehow escape from his hold.
I cried out as his palm collided with my ass.
“Tell me, have you been with anyone else since me?” He asked. I sobbed, screeching behind clenched teeth as he hit me again. “Answer me, bitch.”
“No,” I said. He laughed. I hadn’t heard him take off his belt, but I heard the snap as he pulled it taut. “No, no, no.”
“Oh, yes,” he laughed. He brought the belt down, letting it smack against my bare skin. The sting radiated through my back. Dean was strong, and each time his arm was brought down, the belt would send another striking shot of fire through my body. I was frozen with pain and fear. Dean didn’t have to hold me down after a while. I couldn’t move. “This is for your own good, Y/n.”
I didn’t know how long he struck me. Over, and over, and over he striked, and I lost count after twenty. My hands were clenched in the mattress cover, tears soaking the fabric beneath me, clouding my vision.
I finally heard him throw the belt aside, and his hands curled around my hips, lifting my bottom into the air gently. He softly caressed my skin, and I jumped when I felt his lips touch the welts.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. He rubbed my lower back slowly. “I’m so sorry.”
I sunk my teeth into my lower lip. I froze, not sure what I was supposed to do. I knew moving was out of the question. I was in too much pain to move. Confusion sunk into my bones as he slowly kissed up my back, until he was hovering over me.
He turned me slowly, gently placing me on my back, eyes looking down at me. He tilted his head, thumb wiping away my tears. “Hey, I’m sorry. Please don’t cry.”
“Don’t cry?” I whispered. “How do you expect me to be okay with all of this, Dean? You broke me in Purgatory. You’ve haunted my dreams for the past two years. Then you do this? Just kill me and get it over with. Please.”
He shook his head, furrowing his brows. “I’m not here to kill you. I actually, believe it or not, came to apologize. But as soon as you opened the door I just… I don’t know what came over me.”
“Like I believe that,” I hissed. “Just get the fuck out.”
His jaw ticked, and suddenly his resolve faded. For a second I saw remorse, and now? Fire raged behind his leaf green eyes. I felt his whole body tense against me. I felt him… grow… beneath me.
“Fuck no,” I said. A rush of adrenaline coursed through me. I rolled away from him, landing on my back on the wood floor. I cried out as my raw skin made impact, but I pushed myself up quickly. Dean was up now, his eyes hard and piercing.
“Come here, little pig,” he snarled. I spun and dashed towards the bathroom. He leaped over the bed after me, but I was already inside, locking the door quickly. I heard shuffling, and I knew I needed to think fast. I spotted the window and yanked my robe off the hook, slipping it on. I stepped onto the toilet, pushed the window open, and peered down the three flights my apartment was up. I swallowed thickly, glancing back at the bathroom door. The doorknob was jiggling, and I knew he was picking the lock. Mustering up the courage, I hoisted myself up and swung my legs over. The door suddenly burst open, our eyes locking.
“Don’t you dare,” he said. I took a deep breath and looked down again. Just as he lunged forward, I let go, feeling the rush of air and my heart plummet to my stomach. My eyes were wide as I watched the ground rush up on me all too quickly. I tried ducking my shoulder to attempt to roll, hopefully saving my legs and head in the process, but I couldn’t quite get there. I felt something snap as I hit the ground, a sickening crunch sounding in my ears as I landed on my side.
“Y/n!”
That voice was different. That voice was angelic... kind. Sam.
“Oh my god,” he said. He bent down, hands cradling my face as he looked into my eyes. “Hey, stay with me. Are you alright? Jesus- of course you’re not alright, you jumped from a fucking window to get away from my brother. God, Y/n I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
“Why does he hate me so?” I whimpered before everything went dark.
***
“Should she be asleep this long?”
“Her body is healing. It’s up to her now.”
***
“Get the fuck out.”
“Sam… I don’t know what happened.”
“Don’t you dare say that. Don’t come up with these-these lame ass excuses. I saw what you did, and I have an idea about purgatory. Now, for the last time, get the fuck out.”
***
“She will stay with me.”
“And you are?”
“Her brother.”
***
I jolted awake. My body was on fire, my head pounding with a dull ache. I opened my eyes slowly, adjusting to the bright light above my head. A beeping sound came from my right, and a quick glance showed an EKG meter. A fucking hospital.
My shoulder was bandaged and arm in a sling. My knee had a brace on it. My behind felt raw as shit.
“Fuck,” I muttered as I tried to sit up.
“Y/n! Thank God.”
I jumped at the sound of a voice.
“Sam.”
“God, Y/n… I’m so sorry. So, so, so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” I told him.
“No, but I should have known. I should have done something. God, I can’t believe it.”
I sighed, fiddling with a loose thread on the scratchy blanket that was laid over me. I furrowed my brows.
“Sam… did Dean tell you what happened in purgatory?”
Sam swallowed thickly. “No. But I can guess.”
I nodded slowly. “He told me he’d kill me if I ever told anyone.”
“Have you?” Sam asked.
“My therapist,” I replied.
“A therapist?”
“Yeah. I needed one,” I said. “I was… broken when I got out. I was getting so much better, Sam. I felt like me again. Sure, I still had the nightmares sometimes but… I wasn’t always looking over my shoulder.” My lip wobbled as I fought back tears. “Damn him.”
“God, Y/n/n. I can’t believe it. It just seems so… not Dean,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”
“Sam, I know you mean well, but please stop saying sorry,” I said. He smiled and blushed.
“Sorry.” He cringed. I laughed.
“Stop it,” I told him, pushing his shoulder lightly. He laughed too, grabbing my hand. He kissed my knuckles.
“I’ve missed you,” he said.
“I’ve missed you, too,” I told him. “But I knew that where you went, Dean went.”
“I understand,” he said.
“Oh good, you’re awake!”
Sam and I both looked at the door, a plump woman in a white lab coat standing in the doorway. Her dark hair was piled high on her head, glasses pristinely balanced on her nose, lips lined with deep red lipstick. She looked like a T.V. doctor, not a doctor in middle-of-nowhere West Virginia.
“How are you feeling?” She asked. She checked my vitals and IV bag.
“Sore,” I replied.
“Your brother here has offered to take you home,” she said. I looked pointedly at Sam who shrugged sheepishly. “Look here.”
She shined a light into my eyes, checked my bandages, and determined that I could go home as long as I was supervised for 48 hours. I silently wondered where Dean was, hoping I wasn’t going to see him. If Sam was taking me home, who knows what would happen? Dean knew where I lived. But if Sam was there, perhaps he wouldn’t be stupid enough to try anything.
***
“Are you alright?”
Sam gently placed me onto the motel bed, careful not to hurt me. His brows were furrowed in worry and his lips were pursed into a frown. I let out a shaky laugh.
“No,” I said. “But I’ll get there.”
“Y/n, I’m so-”
“Stop it!” I scolded. “What did I say?”
“Not to apologize anymore?” He said slowly.
“That’s correct,” I said. I laid back onto the pillows, which were worn, but on my sore shoulder and back, they honestly didn’t feel too bad. “Now, mama needs to rest.”
Sam snorted. “Okay… mama.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Don’t mock me, Samuel.” He raised his hands in defense.
“Okay, okay. Sorry, mama,” he said. “I’ll call Cas. He can heal you.”
I perked up at Castiel’s name. The gentle angel and I had been good friends. I heard whispers about him too, while in purgatory that is. I shivered at the thought of that place and…
No. I wouldn’t think about that now. I was safe with Sam. Surely Dean couldn’t find us here. Right? Sam would have taken measures to keep him from doing so.
“Hey, Cas. It’s Sam. Listen…”
Sam’s voice trailed off as he stepped outside the room, closing the door softly behind him. Suddenly, the room turned eerie. The air conditioner hummed loudly under the window, producing some sound in the empty room. It was confining. I shifted on the bed, wincing as my shoulder moved in an odd way. I adjusted my sling to a more comfortable position. I hated these things.
I sighed deeply, glancing towards the door again. I blew a piece of hair out of my eyes. Alone. It wasn’t an odd sensation to me. I had been alone for the last two years. But I had slipped so easily back into the comfortable familiarity that was once me and Sam. I had missed him so much. He was my best friend, my confidant. Being around him again was liberating. It lifted a weight off my shoulders.
Telling someone what had happened in purgatory, besides a therapist, lifted a weight off my shoulders.
Of course, Dean would kill me if he knew. But it felt good to get it out, not have it bottled up. Dr. Ramirez was great, of course. But she wasn’t Sam. Wasn’t a friend.
However, now that the room was empty apart from me, the only sounds of the air unit and the springs of the old bed creaking, I was left alone with my thoughts. Vivid images of Dean flashed before my eyes. Of purgatory, across the street at work, the alley, my apartment. Damn him. Damn him for abusing me so. Damn him for not caring. Damn him for giving me a false sense of hope when he spared a silver of remorse. And damn me for loving him.
Did I still? No, I didn’t think so. Not the Dean who hates me. Who hurt me and raped me and tormented me. Not that Dean. Perhaps the Dean who loved his little brother beyond comprehension. The Dean who would throw himself in the line of fire for a stranger. The Dean who sacrificed everything for the world, the world that was so cruel to him.
Fuck. Of course I still loved that Dean. It was like two separate fucking people. A Dean who would light up at the sight of pie and tell you everything about a band he liked simply because he wanted to share something he loved with you. A Dean who was so selfless, you would need to make sure he wouldn’t go off and get himself killed for absolutely no reason but to save a fucking dog. He would have one look on his face, and then turn to me. That look would turn cold. Those eyes, those beautiful eyes, would turn to ice in a split second. That voice that dripped of rum and sticky honey tore through my heart like daggers in ice. How could someone be so cruel?
A sob escaped my lips. I was so tired of crying. I hated crying. I wiped my nose with the back of my hand from my good arm. I didn’t want to cry anymore. I didn’t want to think anymore.
Luckily, Sam opened the door then. It made me jump slightly. Castiel was behind him. I grinned.
“Cas.”
“Y/n,” he said warmly. He walked over to the bedside. He rested a hand on my good shoulder. Cas wasn’t one for touchy-feely shit. But with me, he was always more comfortable with it.
“I’m going to heal you,” he said matter-of-factly. I gave him a nod, a light shining from his hand. A warmth filled me, starting from my head and reaching to the tips of my toes, and suddenly I felt better. I gave him a grin, which faltered at the look on his face.
“Cas?” I asked. “What is it?”
He gave a small shake of his head. “It’s… it’s a curse.”
“What is?” Sam questioned. He stood up from his seat at the small table by the window. I glanced at him.
“You have had a curse placed on you. An old one. I’ve seen it before, though. In heaven,” Castiel said. “I’m not sure why I hadn’t seen it before now. Perhaps since I hadn’t had to heal you before.”
“A curse in heaven?” I asked.
“It was designed by the archangels. It was to keep soulmates apart.”
“What?” Sam said. “Soulmates? Surely you’re joking.”
“No, I’m not joking,” Cas said. “And don’t call me Shirley.”
Sam furrowed his brows at that. I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing.
“Okay, so a curse. What kind of curse?” I asked. “Who’s my soulmate?”
“The curse is complicated. It can only be placed on one soulmate, and the cursed mate would need to be an interference with a plan from heaven or God himself. ”
“What sort of interference?” Sam asked. Cas hummed.
“Y/n must have stood in the way of her soulmate’s destiny. Her path must cross with them, meaning that she would have altered the path chosen for her mate by heaven. The curse makes it so one of the soulmates hates the other for no particular reason. They can be downright evil towards them. Y/n’s soulmate, if she ever comes across them, may even want to kill her. The curse causes one of the soulmates to do terrible things to the other. They can act one way, and their soulmate walks into the room, suddenly they are filled with an unexplainable rage. There are times where the soulmate can feel remorse or even come to love the one who was cursed. However, the second they lie eyes on the cursed soulmate, their hatred returns.”
Holy fuck.
“If you don’t mind, Y/n,” Cas continued. “Would you mind letting me touch your soul? It should tell me who your soulmate is. I know every path for every human soul. I should be able to see.”
“I… I think I may know who it is,” I said softly. Suddenly my blood ran cold. It felt as if the temperature in the room dropped twenty degrees in a single second. Soulmate may want to kill me. They will hate me. Do terrible things to me. They are suddenly remorseful, but once again turn evil once they lie eyes on me. Fucking hell.
“Who?” Castiel asked. I looked to Sam, who was staring at the ground. I saw it dawn on him, saw the realization flash across his face. His head snapped up to mine.
“Dean.”
***
“Are you fucking joking?”
I flinched at his words. Dean stared- no, glared- at me from his chair. He was chained to a chair in the dungeon. “Precaution” Sam had said. Dean wasn’t too happy with it. I sat in a chair about six feet from him, right outside the devil’s trap. His lip curled into a snarl.
“I’ll fucking kill myself if this bitch is my so called soulmate.”
“I’ve already touched her soul, Dean,” Castiel said. “Just to be sure.”
“Okay? And?” Dean prompted.
“Not only is she cursed, but she’s your soulmate.”
“Fucking hell,” he groaned.
“The archangels placed the curse on her at birth. When they found out she was to be your soulmate, they cursed her in order to keep her from interfering with their plan to have you as Michael’s vessel. If she wasn’t cursed, they foresaw the two of you already together; married and two children.”
My heart ached. I could have had that? Instead, my soulmate had abused, raped, and threatened to kill me on multiple occasions. Great.
“Gag,” Dean said. He spit at the ground towards me. “You told them. You know what would happen if you did. You’re fucking dead.”
“Sam,” I said quietly. I looked up at him. He gently placed a hand at the back of my head in a comforting gesture.
“It’s alright,” he said.
“Now, there is a way to remove the curse. It is painful, and tedious, but it may allow you two to venture forth into a soulmate’s relationship.”
“Fuck that.”
“I can’t.”
Although said at the same time, all eyes turned to me.
“What do you mean you can’t?” Cas asked. Sam sighed.
“Cas, not now.”
“I mean I can’t be with someone who-who was so cruel to me. You don’t know the specifics of purgatory,” I muttered. I squeezed my eyes shut at the thought. My lip threatened to wobble. I sunk my teeth into it. “When this is done, I don’t know if I can be here anymore.”
“Y/n,” Sam said. “When this curse is lifted, the Dean who did those things to you will not exist.”
“It’s true,” Cas said. “The curse alters your soulmate in a way that they’re unrecognizable. It turns their personality completely sour, turning them into a new person. The Dean that will be shown to you when this is over will be the real Dean, the Dean you saw when you weren’t near him. When you’re cursed, it’s like he’s possessed by an alien body.”
“But it’s still his face. His hands. His… everything.” I shuddered.
“That was fun, wasn’t sweetheart?” Dean said. “I still remember how you felt. Tight virgin… Mmmm. Once I’m free of these chains, I may take you again. Maybe I’ll claim your ass this time.
“Enough, Dean!” Sam barked loudly. “Cas.”
“You ready, Y/n?” Castiel asked. I looked up at him, to Dean, and back again.
“Yeah, just one thing first-” I looked at Dean, right in the eye- “Go to hell you son of a bitch.”
Then Castiel’s hands were on the sides of my head, a blinding pain searing behind my eyes, and all I saw was black.
***
“Sam, how am I supposed to live with it?”
“You just do. It wasn’t you. It was the fucking archangels. They did this to her. Not you.”
“It was still… me. I just couldn’t stop it. God, I can’t believe I…”
“Hey. Stop it. I mean it, okay? You beating yourself up with it will not help you in the end. When she wakes up, she’s going to need us. Okay? She’s going to have to re-learn trust and-and love and learn to trust you.”
“If she wants to leave, we need to let her leave. I don’t blame her if she hates me. You heard what she said, Sam. She said she can’t. And I get it. I understand. I don’t want to put her through anymore pain, okay? She needs to live without fear and without pain and suffering. She’s a good, beautiful person inside and out. She didn’t deserve anything I did to her.”
“It wasn’t you!”
“It was, dammit! It was my hands, my body, my fucking words. God, Sam. We may have been cursed, but it was still me. Okay?”
“You heard Cas. It’s like you were possessed. It wasn’t you. Fucking get it through your thick skull.”
“Tell that to her then. If she believes it, I will. This is about her. Not me.”
I could register their conversation. Feel the dull ache in my head. Smell the faint smell of the lavender incense I used to like to burn. The issue was getting my eyes to open.
With heavy lids, I opened my eyes slowly, struggling to keep them open. The brothers stopped talking and I could feel them staring at me. I groaned as I sat up, rubbing at my temple.
“Hey, sleeping beauty,” Sam said slowly. “You feeling okay?”
“If you consider feeling like you’ve been hit by a train ‘okay,’” I said. “Fuck.”
I looked up at them both, Sam’s eyes warm and lips curled into a sympathetic smile. I forced myself to look at Dean. His eyes were focused intently on his hands, but I could see his jaw clenched and chest moving quickly as he took rapid breaths. His leg bounced repeatedly. He was nervous?.
He looked up at me finally, taking a deep breath, holding it a moment, before letting it back out. “Hi.”
“Hi,” I replied lowly.
“Should I leave you two alone?” Sam asked.
“No,” I said quickly. Dean winced, but I ignored it. Like hell I would be left alone with him. “Cas did it? The curse is gone?”
Sam nodded. “Yeah, yeah it’s gone. Dean um… Dean’s fixed, I guess you could say.”
“Is he?” I asked bitterly.
“Y/n,” he said hesitantly. “I don’t have words. I can’t express how sorry I am.” I looked down at my hands. “There aren’t words to describe the guilt I have. I don’t know what to say or do. I’m just so, so sorry.”
I took a deep breath before responding. “At least I know why I loved you for so long.”
That clearly was not what he was expecting to hear. “W-what?”
“Before purgatory, when things didn’t… escalate… I loved you. I loved the you that wasn’t around me. I thought I was fucked up, loving someone who was so cruel to me. But now I know I couldn’t help it. You’re my soulmate. What are the fucking odds?”
His lip quirked slightly. “I… I loved you too. The me that wasn’t around you. It honestly was like two different… me’s essentially. I loved you, and every time I wasn’t around you, I told myself to apologize and fucking fix myself. But then I’d see you and… this anger just consumed me. I couldn’t understand why. And then in purgatory, being around you 24/7, it’s like everything was heightened. I just wanted to make you hurt.”
I flinched and his face softened.
“Shit, I’m sorry, Y/n.”
“No, I want to hear this. I want to understand what you were feeling,” I said. “Maybe it will help me… differentiate you from, you know… cursed you.”
He nodded before continuing. “Like I said, being around you constantly made everything worse. It was like the anger and hatred all heightened. So the night that I… hurt you… I wanted to cause you such profound pain. But I didn’t want to kill you. I think deep down, even cursed, I couldn’t bring myself to kill you. Although the curse hated you, I loved you. You were always so gentle and kind. You’re easily one of the smartest people I know. You’re beautiful and funny and innocent. I fell in love with you, and the curse despised that. It wanted to hurt you. And it did. And for that, I can not apologize enough. What I did… it’s unimaginable. I am so sorry, Y/n.”
We simply sat looking at each other for a moment. Sam sat uncomfortably beside Dean. He glanced between the two of us.
“You’re stressing me out, Sam,” I said finally.
“Sorry,” he muttered, looking anywhere but Dean and me.
I cleared my throat and fiddled with the edge of the blanket laid over me. “I… I don’t know what to say, Dean. I really don’t.”
“Don’t say anything, then,” he murmured.
“I want to forgive and forget. Lord do I want to forget. But this isn’t something you can overcome so easily,” I said. “I was so close to being fixed. I was so much better, but you showing up at my apartment and beating the shit out of me like that… it tore down the foundation I had built back up.”
“I had come to apologize,” he said. “And then I saw you and it all went away.”
“I know,” I told him. “It confused the fuck out of me, your fucking mood swing.”
He whistled. “No shit. It confused me.”
We sat in silence for another moment. I wasn’t scared per se, just uncomfortable. If he was “fixed,” I had nothing to fear. I knew I had nothing to fear from Dean now. However, I would never forget the malice and callousness he showed me for years. That night in purgatory was forever seared into my brain. That trauma and heartache and pain would live with me forever. It didn’t matter if he was fixed or cured or whatever the fuck you want to call it. It still happened. It was still at his hands. That’s not something to simply get over.
“I’m not asking for your forgiveness,” he said softly. “If someday you somehow find it in your heart to forgive me, then that’s your business. I don’t deserve it and I’m not expecting it. But maybe, if you’ll let us try, to start over, someday we could become friends.”
I swallowed thickly. “I don’t know, Dean.”
I watched his face flash with an emotion I couldn’t quite explain, before masking his emotions. “I understand.”
“Maybe,” I told him. “Don’t bank on it.”
Dean gave me a small smile. “I’m in your hands, Y/n. I’ll be here if you want. And if not, then I respect that.”
I yawned then and Sam stood slowly. “Let’s give her some rest, Dean. She’s had a long week.”
Dean nodded at his brother and gave one last look at me.
“I really am sorry, Y/n. I’ll live with this guilt until the day I die. I hope… I hope you find the happiness and peace you deserve.” He gave me a tight lipped smile and closed the door behind him, evidently taking all weight in the room with him. I let out a deep breath that I had been holding and rubbed at my temples. I laid back onto the pillows, letting my eyes trace designs on the ceiling in the dark of the room.
Sleep found me not long after, and no matter what knowledge I had now, or the safety that was Sam across the hall, I had no control of the nightmares that plagued my dreams and danced behind my eyes. Dean Winchester may have been cured. He may be himself around me now. However, what he did will forever live with me, and no angel cure or spell undoing will ever change that.
And so, I walked through the valley of darkness that were my dreams, and I battled the demons caused by the man who stayed down the hall from me. Yet I slept, knowing that what tormented me behind closed eyes was no longer alive, and the man who had broken through the chains around my heart all those years ago was back and in the foreground. Though I wasn’t sure what my feelings were towards him now, knowing that what he did to me was the result of an archangel curse, I did know that perhaps someday, once we tread through the tumultuous ground that was fear and contradiction, we may learn to live in peace with one another, even if he had loved me and hated me; even if I had loved him and hated him. Yet the most important thing, the thing that allowed me to rest, if not soundly, but at all, was the fact that he no longer wanted me dead, nor did he want my blood on his hands.
So though nothing was back to normal, and I didn’t plan on being around Dean anytime soon, perhaps I wouldn’t have to look over my shoulder anymore. Maybe I could finally find the solace and peace that I deserved. I think the world at least owes me that.
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Your New Boyfriend (Shigaraki x Reader smut)
Shigaraki x Dom!Reader
Includes: gore, angst, cussing, watching p0rn, masturbation, oral
Author's note: I feel like Shigaraki's naturally a dom, but I like to think that he would be a sub because he really doesn't want to hurt you accidentally with his quirk. Also, I found the song, 'Your New Boyfriend' after writing this so I added bits.
"He's in your bed, I'm in your Twitch chat"
Your POV:
Your boyfriend had been too late to save you. The world was starting to go blurry. That damn hero had snapped both of your arms. Not a very heroic thing to do. They hung uselessly, blood trickling down all over. There was no way you would ever use them again. You stared up at the sky. A quirkless nobody like you never should have been in the league. The only reason you were was because All for One had saved you from the rubble of your house. You had no one else to turn to. You looked up at the stars. Wasn't it supposed to be daytime? You must be hallucinating. Hawks descended, the moon shining on his beautiful feathers, looking angelic, and scooped you very gently in his arms. "Baby, I'm so sorry. I should have been there. I should have protected you." He nuzzles your head. You see the tears falling off of his cheeks. Your arms dangle. He takes a few deep shuddering breaths. "No! You can't die on me! Fuck!" Your vision dimmed and you fell limp in his arms.
"If I could change a single thing, I'd make it me and not him."
Shigaraki's POV:
The battle was over, and the League had finally won for once. Hawks had said that there was something I was supposed to see, and it was important. Usually, we never really talked, so it must actually be important. I ran after him, flying ahead of me. He swooped down next to an unmoving mass. "It's Y/N. They didn't make it." My jaw dropped. Y/N? How? They were the only one that didn't ever make fun of me. They were my reason to live. "Leave. Now. I'll take care of this," I harshly said to Hawks, making him flutter away, not wanting to defy me. I delicately raised them with a pinky in the air, putting my ear to their chest. There was a faint noise, but perhaps that was from somewhere else. "This can't be. You aren't dead." I stared at my hand in confusion. My hand was covered in blood. In the dark of the night, I had failed to realize that they must have been severely injured to make Hawks think they were dead. "Kurogiri!" I snapped. He appeared almost immediately. Upon looking at the person's body, he said, "My condolences. They meant a lot to you, right?" I said nothing. "Don't tell me that. They're not dead. Or... are... are they really gone?" My voice ended sounding almost like a whisper, hoping that it was not so. Kurogiri knelt down next to them, and took a pulse. "It's your lucky day, they're not quite dead yet." My heart fluttered. Hawks you dumbass bastard. Didn't even check for a pulse? "...like I said, yet. If they don't get severe medical treatment very soon, they'll bleed out. None of us have the expertise to fix wounds like this. Both of their arms appear to be broken in multiple places, I severely doubt that they'll live and-" I stood up. "Damn it, Kurogiri! Do what you have to to keep them alive. Anything." Kurogiri nodded, and teleported away, leaving me to scream at the sky.
"I thought when I get older, I'd marry her"
"A half Nomu? You're sure it can be done?" I stared up at the giant cylinder of blue liquid that was keeping them alive in it. Their arms had been amputated. The doctor nodded. As secretive as he was, the guy was totally loyal to All for One, and therefore loyal to me."All we have to do is fix the arms using the process we use for making the Nomu. It should work out perfectly." I nod. That would have to do, as it seemed to be the only way of them getting out of this unscathed. "Well, there could be a few side effects, but nothing too major." He said, ruining the moment. "Like what?" I snapped. "Well, there could be some mental side effects, such as body dysphoria. I mean, there is always the chance that it won't work at all, or that perhaps it works too well and the Nomu part takes over the rest of the body." I scratched my neck. The stress had given back my old habits. "But they'll still mentally be themself, right? I don't want them to end up just like another Nomu." He nodded. "Likely. Still, I'm not sure why you are going through such lengths for one of your minor lackeys. Unless you want to program them to be totally loyal to you or something. But the resources alone for a quirk less nobody-" I put my hands around his neck, making sure to not touch him with all my fingers. Program them? That had to be crossing a line. I took a few deep breaths trying to calm down, but it made it worse. It took all my self control to not disintegrate him for saying such a horrible thing about my love but I needed him to save them. I glanced up at their body, seemingly lifeless in the canister. I tightened my grip. "Never. Never ever talk about them like that. Unless you want to die here and now." I released him to let him go do his work.
After getting the call from the doctor that the treatment had worked, and the healing was done, I immediately had Kurogiri teleport me to see. They looked perfectly fine, their arms free of even scars and blemishes that were there earlier. Something still bothered me. "Why aren't they waking up?" The doctor backed away, no doubt fearful of me turning him into dust."They just need a little time. Take them back to the hideout, and they'll be fine." I did just that, sitting by the side of their bed. "I hope someday you'll realize how much I love you. Enough to bring you back from the dead."
"Your new boyfriend's an arsehole"
Your POV:
You woke up. Groggily, you opened your eyes. How could you have woken up? Weren't you supposed to be dead? You moved your arms. Totally unbroken. In fact, they felt strong. Seeing Shigaraki next to you, you said, "How did Hawks get me to the hospital in time? I thought I was a goner." He sneered. "Pfft. That hero saved you? Please. No. Sorry sweetheart, it was me. He thought you were deceased, and left you for dead. The dumbass should have checked for a pulse. Anyway, after your... boyfriend," he sneered. "...thought you were dead, he abandoned the cause, and revealed that he was a fucking secret agent for the heroes." You shook your head. "No way." He got up. "Whatever princess. Just happy you're fine." He left the room, gently shutting the door. Looking around after getting out of bed, only Kurogiri and Shigaraki were at the league's hideout. How could you be alive. Your arms were supposed to be broken. It was obvious that Shigaraki did not want to talk about it, so you went to his second in command. "Kurogiri, how did you guys get me not dead?" That was a dumb way of putting it. His pupilless eyes turned towards you. "I am programmed to not answer that question. Oh, keeping secrets, are we Shigaraki? There was always a way around, and you would find out. "Do you know how?" He nodded his head yes. "Ok then, what did you do yesterday that had to do with me?" That seemed to work. "I took you to the doctor's lab where he fixed you." He was silent for a moment, then added his two cent take on it, something he rarely ever did. "Shigaraki seemed really concerned for you, Y/N. He loves you. He saved your life. You are in his debt. You must repay him." His words sent chills down your spine. Kurogiri never talked like that. He was always monotonous, giving only the requested information. You backed away, creeped out.
"I just think that I deserve A little bit of what I earned"
You sat behind Shigaraki, on the couch behind his gamer chair. The game blared boss battle music. "Do you wish to fight me, mortal?" That was an odd phrase. Must be the end game boss or something. He kept muttering little things under his breath. It was kind of cute. He won the game after two tries. A smile was on his face. You hardly ever saw that. He started a new game when you sneezed. He turned around, startled. "Oh, Y/N. How are you? I didn't know you were there. How long have you been there, exactly?" Since Kurogiri had said Shigaraki was in love with you, that had to be true. Kurogiri always told the truth. Since Hawks had backstabbed the league, you were open for a new boyfriend, right? You surveyed him with new eyes. Even though he wasn't heather most handsome, with his chapped lips, he wasn't that bad either, his hair was fluffy sky blue color, and something about his eyes entranced you. "Hey, what's with that look? Are you okay?" He seemed concerned for your well-being. This relationship could work out. You shook your head as if clearing the thoughts out. "Fine, thanks." He looked away from you, back at the game. You went over the couch, making a few quieter footstep sounds to make him think you were out of the room, and ducked behind the couch, peering out at him. What did he do in his alone time? He glanced around to check that you had left, and popped a different game into the CD drive. This game was very different from what he had been playing before. Instead of his, shooting, taking-over-the-galaxy-type game, the intro screen had girls in bathing suits... and some without. He started the game up, and immediately a very lewd picture of a girl showed up. He played the dumb game for a bit. Really? The second you leave the room he goes to play that kind of game, and fuck with some cartoon girls? That was actually kind of cute. Did you make him that horny? "None of them are as good as Y/N. Fuck."
"When I'm only one click away from insane"
He drummed his fingers on the desk. Slowly, you heard the unzipping of his pants. This was wrong. You shouldn't be listening in on him. But you couldn't help it. He had a crush on you, and the feeling was mutual. He started making little sounds, no doubt masturabting. Too bad he was turned away from you. "Ugh! Yea, mmmm. Just like that you little slut. Take it real good." Now that was too much. You felt your own panties behind drenched at ugly of him saying such dirty words to you. You slowly crept up on him. Somehow, he must have realized that you were there, because in one deft motion he zipped his pants, turned off the monitor with the naked girls, and stepped in front of the screen as if covering it. He turned to face you, a hand against your throat. "Kinky," you said. Realizing who you were, his hand slowly relaxed from the tight grip he had, letting it fall off of you. He stood there for a second, unsure what to do, unsure of how long you were there.
"'Cause she's living the dream"
"Poor Tomura. Did I stop you from cumming? I know what you did for me, and I want to make it up to you." His scarlet eyes widened and you slowly pressed him back into his chair and straddled him, holding his wrists with your strong arms. "Don't deny it. I know you want this." He looked away, unable to look at you in the eyes. "Yea, sure whatever." His words didn't match his actions. You felt him growing against you, straining against the fabric. "Naughty boy, looking at others for pleasure. They aren't even real. They can't make you feel like I can." You gently pressed your lips against his, and he went along with it, moaning softly. You rolled your hips onto his, giving him a little friction. "Fuck," he muttered softly. You grabbed his hair and made the kiss deeper, his rough lips against yours. You stay like that for a while, content with tasting each other. He finally backed off. "Y/N, you don't know how much I craved you, how much I wanted this." "Oh, I haven't even done anything yet." You very slowly unzipped his pants, and he blushed furiously under you. When you were finally done, you revealed his underwear, soaked where his head met the fabric. You got down on your knees and licked him through the fabric, and he shuddered, digging his nails into the soft leather of the chair. You gently stroked the tip, then slid his pants and briefs down to reveal his cock, which twitched when you blew cold air on it. "I want you so badly. Please. Please." You took him into your hands and licked it a few times before shoving his length into your mouth. He became a sobbing mess beneath you, calling your name as you sucked him off. His words became a string of incoherent praises. You knew he was getting close, so you finished him off and he came onto your hand. After a couple of shuddering breaths, he returned to normal, yet his dick was still erect.
"Love isn't quite what I thought it'd be"
"Please, I want to taste you. Let me, please, let me eat you up," he begged. You took off your lower clothing, and he went onto the couch. You slowly descended onto him, and he spent no time waiting. He grabbed your hips, digging some of his broken fingernails in, making sure not to touch you with all his fingers. You let out a squeal of pain, but that did not stop him. He covered you with his mouth, his tongue making lewd sounds. You let out moans as he did it, and soon you were ready to cum. Surprisingly, he took it well and swallowed it all, still licking you as if a puppy, desperately wanting a last bit of milk from its mother. "You're so desperate, babe. Lighten up." You fluffed his hair, but he kept going. His eyes were half lidded. How was he enjoying this so much? "Dirty little bitch, you just love sucking me, don't you?" He just vibrated his lips against you, and shuddered. "You look like you're fucking possessed. Stop it." He just kept licking and sucking until you came another time, and he came with you.
"I've got the key, and he's just the doormat"
You got off of his face and he gasped for breath, clear and whitish liquids coming out of his mouth. "You make a cute ahegao face," you said, taking a pic. He swallowed, wiped off his mouth, and frowned. "Did you just take a picture?" He tried swiping your phone. "Uh, no?" You replied, keeping the phone out of his reach. You laughed, and whispered in his ear. "I'm keeping this for blackmail until I know we'll do this again." You kissed him on the cheek, and he leaned against you in an attempt to take your phone. You clicked the power button, so he'd have to guess your password before he could delete it. He growled, up in your face. "Fine then, let's go right now."
"Cause she moves on pretty bloody quick"
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BeeTober 2020 Day 27
Rice - Fright
Day 27 of BeeTober brings some arachnophobia for poor Jiang Cheng, but luckily he has the best neighbours because NMJ is simply the best da-ge to everyone and NHS knows exactly how JC feels.
When Jiang Cheng’s rice cooker goes out with a bang—or rather a very small twitch—Jiang Cheng takes a moment to simply stare at his ceiling.
Of course the rice cooker would decide to give out today, when Jiang Cheng is alone at home and no one is bound to come over either.
And that means, he has to go into the basement on his own.
Jiang Cheng knows that there’s a new rice cooker just waiting for him—Jiang Yanli has prophesised that his would die on him sooner or later and she wanted him to be prepared—but what’s also waiting for him down there are spiders.
Lots and lots of spiders.
The last time Jiang Cheng went into the basement he couldn’t finish repotting his plants because a rather huge spider came crawling out of the depth of hell, giving Jiang Cheng the fright of his life, and he had fled his own cellar without a second thought, abandoning his plants in the process as well.
In the end Wei Wuxian had repotted his plants, but he had made quite the mess of it, as he very willingly admitted, and Jiang Cheng still did not muster up the courage to clean up after him.
Now he has two reasons to go into the basement—three, he realizes as he eyes the empty cartons he’s been collecting, always putting it off to bring them down into the basement—so at least it would be worth it, and Jiang Cheng retrieves his hand-held vacuum cleaner. He just hopes that Jiang Yanli did not bury the rice cooker under boxes of other stuff, because Jiang Cheng is not going to overhaul his whole basement in search for it.
The chance to encounter a spider is way too high after all, and he wants to come out of this as unscathed as he can.
Jiang Cheng takes a few deep breaths to steel himself before he even leaves his own apartment, and of course he immediately runs into Nie Huaisang.
“What are you doing?” he wants to know and Jiang Cheng looks down at himself.
He’s wearing a hooded sweater, hood already pulled up, so that nothing can touch his hair, and he wears the thickest boots he owns, vacuum cleaner in one hand and balancing boxes on the other.
Jiang Cheng is aware that he’s going overboard, but there are spiders in the basement. He thinks he can be excused, even though he’s certain he makes quite the picture.
“I have to get a new rice cooker,” Jiang Cheng says and Nie Huaisang frowns.
“Like this? I’m not sure they will let you into a shop like this.”
“Oh no, I’m going into the basement,” Jiang Cheng clarifies, though he doubts that makes it better. “I have a second one, because Yanli is a worrywart,” he explains and Nie Huaisang nods, because clearly that makes a lot more sense.
“Well, I hope you survive then,” Nie Huaisang says and Jiang Cheng sees him shudder.
Nie Huaisang hates spiders just as much as Jiang Cheng does, and he always sends Nie Mingjue into the basement, because Nie Mingjue has never encountered anything that frightened him.
“Thank you,” Jiang Cheng grits out and then steels himself again.
He’s really damn hungry and he will get that stupid rice cooker.
Jiang Cheng hesitates in front of the stairs that lead down into the basement but he knows that he has to do it eventually. He will not simply turn back and admit defeat, especially not with how hungry he is.
So he makes his way down the stairs, deliberately keeping his gaze on the stairs instead of looking around, because he does not want to see any spiders before he even enters his own cellar.
When he reaches the door to his cellar, he puts the empty boxes down to get out his keys and then he’s in the cellar.
He freezes in the door, because when Wei Wuxian said he made a bit of a mess, he did not mention that half the plant earth is on the ground instead of inside of the bag where it should be.
“Fuck me,” Jiang Cheng groans because it looks like this won’t be a quick in-and-out like he hoped. “I’m going to kill him,” Jiang Cheng decides, but then he steps into the cellar.
He still keeps his eyes on the ground, surveying the mess there, as he ponders the best course of action.
It’s probably smarter to vacuum first before he moves all the stuff on the shelves, because he’s bound to disturb a lot more spiders there.
Mind made up, Jiang Cheng puts the boxes down and gets ready with the vacuum cleaner.
Everything is fine, at least for like two minutes, before Jiang Cheng realizes that not all black spots on the ground is dirt. And he realizes that because one of the black spots starts to move towards him.
And it’s fast.
“Aaaaaahhhhhh,” Jiang Cheng yells, stumbling backwards and pointing the vacuum cleaner at the spider.
He manages to suck it up with the vacuum, but Jiang Cheng curses the design of his vacuum because the container is see-through and Jiang Cheng can tell very well that the spider did not die.
Jiang Cheng drops the vacuum in his shock and stumbles back, right into the shelve behind him. A few boxes tumble out and hit Jiang Cheng, but he barely notices it, his eyes glued to the vacuum, his heart racing in his chest, and he feels a bit faint.
The spider crawls around in the container and Jiang Cheng knows he can never pick it up again, because who knows when the spider will find a way out of there.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Jiang Cheng mutters again and again, unsure what he should do now.
He’s trembling slightly, the tremors spreading out over his whole body, and he’s frozen to the spot.
Jiang Cheng is just as afraid of spiders as Wei Wuxian is of dogs—even though he did not go through any traumatic incident with them—and just like Wei Wuxian he never learned to overcome his fear.
It’s usually not a problem, since he avoids the basement as best as he can, but of course the one time he ventures down here it all goes to hell.
The spider is still crawling in the container, clearly looking for a way out and Jiang Cheng feels close to tears.
If he has to touch the vacuum cleaner to get rid of the spider, then he will—eventually—but he will scream inside his head the whole time and he’ll probably cry too, just for good measure.
Jiang Cheng is getting ready to take a step towards the vacuum cleaner when he hears a noise outside. He’s not thinking clearly, but the first thought that comes into his mind is that it’s another spider, before he realizes how stupid that is and he recognizes the sounds as someone coming down the stairs.
“Huaisang?” he calls out, because Nie Huaisang is at least home, Jiang Cheng knows that much.
He also knows that Nie Huaisang will be of absolutely no help to him, because they are both equally scared, but Jiang Cheng finds himself thinking that this whole horrible situation would be easier to deal with if someone else was there.
“Wanyin?” a voice calls back and that is most definitely not Nie Huaisang.
Jiang Cheng has half a mind diving behind the shelves just to hide from Nie Mingjue, but when he twitches his eyes fall on the spider in the vacuum cleaner again and he freezes in fear.
Diving behind the shelves would be a bad move as well, after all, because it’s bound to be infested with spiders.
“Fuck,” Jiang Cheng mutters yet again because he does not want Nie Mingjue to see him like this, but he also very much needs help.
“Mingjue, help,” Jiang Cheng gets out and it’s not long before Nie Mingjue steps into the cellar, surveying everything with a critical eye.
“What’s wrong?” he asks and Jiang Cheng has to bite back a sob, because Nie Mingjue’s voice is very steady and very calm and Jiang Cheng feels anything but.
“There’s—,” Jiang Cheng starts and it’s enough to make the tears flow. “There’s a spider in the vacuum,” he finally gets out, beyond mortified, but Nie Mingjue keeps calm.
“I see,” Nie Mingjue says, and steps even closer. “What did you need from down here?”
“Rice cooker,” Jiang Cheng presses out and jumps when the spider in the container suddenly moves quickly.
“Alright,” Nie Mingjue nods and pats Jiang Cheng’s head, before he makes a strange movement with the same hand. “I’ll get it for you.”
Nie Mingjue is not usually someone to pet someone’s head and just as that thought crosses his mind Jiang Cheng goes ice cold as the implication of what Nie Mingjue just did hit him, and he’s almost too scared to ask, but he needs to know.
“There was a spider on my head, right?” he asks, his voice very small and very shaky and Nie Mingjue nods reluctantly.
Disgust and fear roll in waves over Jiang Cheng and he has to get out of the basement right this second.
“I have to—I can’t—,” he stumbles over his words, but he can’t manage to form a complete sentence and in the end he simply runs away.
He almost falls a few times on his way up the stairs, and instead of running back into his own spider-free apartment he runs outside.
And the first thing he does there is to take off his sweater, because clearly after his stumble into the shelves it’s no longer free of spiders.
As soon as he gets it off he throws it onto the ground, not daring to look to closely if anything comes crawling out of it, because that’s a nightmare he doesn’t need on top of everything else that happened today.
Jiang Cheng takes a few steps back from the sweater and then simply stands in the cold, with nothing more than his shirt, and he almost prefers the shivers caused from the cold to those out of fear.
He slings his arms around his middle, trying to hide just how badly his hands shake, and then he takes a few deep breaths, though they hardly do anything to calm him down.
Jiang Cheng knows that he’ll think about this for days to come, and he already knows that he won’t get much sleep this night.
By the time there’s a sound behind him, he mostly stopped crying, but he still startles badly when Nie Mingjue comes out of the house, the vacuum cleaner in his hand.
“Turn around,” he gently instructs Jiang Cheng, who obeys him before he can catch a sight of the spider still trapped inside.
Normally Jiang Cheng would freak out even more now, because he can’t see the spider anymore, but he trusts Nie Mingjue to have this handled in a way that does the least harm to Jiang Cheng’s very frail mental health right now.
Jiang Cheng hears him working on the vacuum cleaner, presumably throwing the contents and the spider into the garbage bin, and then Nie Mingjue steps up next to him.
“It’s all dealt with,” Nie Mingjue reassures him. “I cleaned up, stacked the boxes again and got your rice cooker.”
Jiang Cheng is entirely beyond feeling embarrassed when a sob breaks free at that.
“Thank you,” he gets out and his heart races for entirely different reasons when Nie Mingjue smiles at him.
Jiang Cheng is in no way equipped to deal with this onslaught of emotions and he sways slightly on his feet.
“Anything else you need?” Nie Mingjue asks him, his voice still low and clearly concerned and it’s enough to make Jiang Cheng blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.
“A hug would be nice,” he says and Nie Mingjue is very quick to open his arms for him.
It’s not difficult at all to step forward and Jiang Cheng doubts there’s a better feeling than being embraced by Nie Mingjue. His smell is very comforting and his arms are secure and strong around him and for just a moment Jiang Cheng can forget this horrible, no good afternoon.
“Thank you,” Jiang Cheng says again and Nie Mingjue starts to stroke his hands up and down Jiang Cheng’s back, making him almost melt into the embrace.
“No problem,” Nie Mingjue says and his voice makes a very nice rumbling sound. “I’m quite used to dealing with something like this,” he goes on and Jiang Cheng feels a little less mortified by the whole ordeal when he remembers that he heard Nie Huaisang scream for Nie Mingjue more than once already.
“In fact, why don’t you join us for dinner tonight?” Nie Mingjue suddenly asks and cups the back of Jiang Cheng’s head when he wants to pull away.
It seems like the hug is not yet over.
“Huaisang doesn’t like being alone after there was an incident and I’m sure he’d be thrilled to have you over. You can even sleep at our place, since Wei Wuxian is not coming home today, right?”
Jiang Cheng goes hot all over when those kind words bring tears to his eyes again and he doesn’t trust his voice to hold out, so he simply nods.
“Alright,” Nie Mingjue says. “We’ll grab your things and then get started on dinner. You must be hungry.”
“Starved,” Jiang Cheng admits and this time when he tries to pull away, Nie Mingjue lets him. “My rice cooker died on me, that started this whole mess.”
“Then we’ll have to whip up something quickly,” Nie Mingjue tells him and then seems to hesitate. “Will you be alright if I hand you the vacuum?”
“You promise there’s no spider in there anymore?” Jiang Cheng asks, the first tendrils of fear already setting in again, but Nie Mingjue nods.
“I checked it over and cleaned it out personally, there’s nothing in there at all.”
He sounds completely sure, and Jiang Cheng has no reason not to trust him, so he takes one last deep breath and then holds out his hand.
“Okay.”
He still startles slightly when Nie Mingjue puts the vacuum in his hand, but it’s not as bad as it would have been if Jiang Cheng had to deal with it on his own.
Nie Mingjue picks the rice cooker and Jiang Cheng’s discarded sweater up and then he follows Jiang Cheng to his own apartment.
Jiang Cheng would feel coddled, but he’s actually really grateful that he doesn’t have to do this alone, because after a scare like this he sees spiders everywhere, even though he logically knows that it’s unlikely that there are spiders all over his apartment.
Still, he’s quick to gather his things and before he can so much as blink, they are inside Nie Mingjue’s apartment.
“Da-ge?” Nie Huaisang calls out. “What took you so long?”
“We have a guest tonight,” Nie Mingjue calls back and winks at Jiang Cheng. “There was an incident in the basement.”
“An inci—oh,” Nie Huaisang says when he comes out into the living room and his gaze falls on Jiang Cheng. “Fuck, one of those incidents, huh?”
Jiang Cheng is aware that he must still look like a wreck; he couldn’t bring himself to pick up his sweater, even though Nie Mingjue promised him he shook it out as well, and his eyes must still be red-rimmed from the tears earlier.
“One of those incidents,” Nie Mingjue agrees and shoos Nie Huaisang into the kitchen. “He’s going to take a shower, and he’ll room with you tonight.”
“Pushy,” Nie Huaisang says with a wrinkled nose at his brother, but before Jiang Cheng can offer to simply go back to his own apartment, Nie Huaisang already bounded over to him.
“Of course you’re rooming with me, tonight,” he tells Jiang Cheng. “Incidents are the worst and it’s not good to be alone afterwards.”
Jiang Cheng feels choked up all over again at his words and his eyes burn.
“Come on, a good shower will help and da-ge makes the best comfort food,” Nie Huaisang says as he drags Jiang Cheng over to the bathroom.
“Want me to check it with you?” Nie Huaisang asks, because clearly he understands that Jiang Cheng will see spiders everywhere right now, and Jiang Cheng can only nod.
They do a check of the bathroom—completely spider-free, much to Jiang Cheng’s relief—and then Nie Huaisang leaves him to shower.
Jiang Cheng still feels unsettled, and he still jumps at every dark spot he sees, but with the delicious smell wafting into the bathroom, and Nie Huaisang’s and Nie Mingjue’s voices filling the silence, he finds that it’s not as bad as it usually is.
Maybe this day won’t be a complete disaster after all.
Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!
#bt writes#beetober 2020#untamed fall fest#the untamed#mdzs#jiang cheng#nie mingjue#nie huaisang#arachnophobia#hurt/comfort#modern au#hugs#something very close to a panic attack#but nmj is the best da-ge#for everyone
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Cross My Heart (Chapter 2)
Pairing: Agent Whiskey x Reader
Rating: Explicit/18+
Summary: A traitorous Agent Whiskey returns to the United States on the run. Being cast out by Statesman, he soon finds that you’re the only person he can turn to - the embittered former flame from years long passed
Word count: 2.8k
Warnings: Eventual smut, some references to alcoholism and drug use. Reader is in her late twenties but there is an age gap between her and Whiskey. Chapter specific warnings are as follows - mentions of alcohol, descriptions of blood, Whiskey being a bit of an ass and some brief talk of dead relatives.
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You watched him as he settled himself back down into the couch, taking note of every breath he took while he reclined back, refusing to look you straight in the eye. That didn’t bother you too much - you were too busy studying the myriad of bruises and cuts splayed along his body, from the tears and scuffs in his denim jacket to taking note of his perfectly maintained Stetson. How on Earth that thing had managed to escape from whatever situation Jack had gotten himself into unscathed mystified you, but from what you remembered of him you knew he loved that damn hat to death.
Neither of you had said a word to each other since he stumbled through your front door only moments before, that heightened sense of tension undoubtedly ripe in the air. You thought if you ever saw Jack Daniels face again that you’d have a couple of cutting remarks to say to him - if you ever did think about him that is, and you usually didn’t. Jack hadn’t haunted your thoughts for years now, memories of the summer you two first met and the cold dark of winter when you fell apart falling away to the sands of time. The last thing you ever expected was to have him show up on the front step of your ranch, looking like he’d been beaten within an inch of his life. Gazing over him now, you felt it was somewhat your obligation to make sure he was fine: despite your less than amicable feelings towards him you weren’t about to let him die on your couch.
“Can I get you anything?” you asked him, a hint of uncertainty to your tone. He turned his gaze towards you and shrugged slightly, looking no less unsettled than he had a moment before. “I’m fine for now. Trust me, it doesn’t hurt as bad as it looks”.
“You sure about that? No offense, but you kind of look like a wreck” you shot back, to which he replied with a small scoff. “Nice to see you too, sweetheart. I forgot how hospitable you were to those in your care”.
You could feel a spark of heat rise in your cheeks at his words, and almost wanted to retort back with something equally if not more biting. That fucking bastard. Here he was, lying on your couch looking like he’d walked out of a gang fight and he had the gall to give you attitude. “Alright, ignoring your completely rude and uncalled for attitude for a moment, you still haven’t answered my question. What the fuck did you get yourself into?” you asked.
There was a momentary pause where Jack looked back up at you, an expression of remorse crossing over his face in the brief glance he shot at you. Turning his gaze back down towards the wooden coffee table before him, he shook his head and sighed. “Sorry about that, darlin’.I just...I got myself into a bit of a tight situation. Things have gotten complicated now” he explained, prompting you to raise your brow at him.
“Yeah, I can see that. Who did this to you?”.
“Just some other agents. It doesn’t matter” he replied curtly.
“From where? Statesman?” you asked. After dating him for about a year, you were well aware of his position as an agent to Statesman, and you knew exactly what that job entailed. Jack had been injured before, sometimes worse than how he was now. You remembered once he came back from a mission with several different bones broken, multiple gunshot wounds and a concussion. You’d been left worried for weeks after that as he recovered, only being allowed short visits to see him due to the very nature of his job. This time was different though. You knew Jack was a survivor, but for him to show up out of the blue after several years of no contact, looking the way he did, something was horribly wrong. Studying his expression intensely, you couldn’t help but let out a low sigh in frustration. It annoyed you to some degree of how evasive his answers had been thus far. It was almost like he was ashamed to even say what had happened to him, ashamed to be even talking to you.
“No, no, they...they weren’t. That’s not important right now though” he finally answered, running the edges of his fingers over his tattered jeans. If it were any other day you would have been more upset at his dismissal of your question but upon seeing the troubled look on his face you felt it best to let it go. An uncomfortable silence had started to hang over the room, the space between you and him feeling more and more tense as the moments ticked by. You looked down at your shoes, taking note of every scuff and streak of mud as if they were the most interesting things in the world, and giving yourself another minute of hesitation before blurting out “Why are you in Dallas?”.
“It just so happened to be the place the cargo plane I was stowing away on landed. I wasn’t tryin’ to seek you out or anything, if you’ll believe me”.
His explanation gave cause for you to raise a single brow at him once more, not entirely believing it to be a coincidence that he just happened to show up in Dallas after seven years of radio silence. “Really? Why come here then? Don’t you have your agent buddies to fall back on for shit like this?” you inquired, your tone coming off far more biting and bitter than you originally intended it to. You could see Jack seize up slightly at your callousness, a pained expression passing over his face that made your breath catch in your throat for a second before you darted your eyes away from him, focusing back down to your shoes and deriding yourself for even having a moment of fleeting attraction to him. All these years and those pathetic puppy dog eyes still managed to get to you. Damn him.
“Usually, yeah. Not this time round though. I’ve…” he stopped himself, his eyes betraying the deep wounded pain woven within them, strengthening every second longer he dwelled on the memory of his former glory. “I’ve been kicked out of Statesman. Or, well, I haven’t officially been kicked but after what happened the other day I’d be a damn fool if I even tried to walk through their doors again”.
You blinked at him in confusion, his words not fully registering with you. Statesman kicked him out? Him of all people? You briefly considered the possibility that he was simply just pulling your leg and trying to gain some sort of sympathy but upon remembering the pained expression on his face you were instantly told all you needed to know about the truth behind his words. Ok, so he’s not lying, but still...why? “I find it hard to believe that they’d just boot out their best field agent. What did you do to warrant that?”.
You could see Jack’s mouth twitch slightly, indicating that he wasn’t entirely up for divulging such information. Running a hand through his hair, he trained his eyes to the ground and refused to look up at you as he went on to explain what exactly had gone down to lead him there. “Long story short, I had a disagreement of sorts with a couple of agents from a fellow organisation, and may have gone against Champ’s direct orders in order to hinder them. I guess you could say I went rogue” he elaborated, intentionally trying to keep some of the finer details out. You had half a mind to push for more info, though after another seconds thought you decided against that idea and instead settled for nodding at him semi-sympathetically. “I see. So...why are you here then?”.
He didn’t answer you right away, rather finding himself to be staring straight upwards at the wooden beams on the ceiling above. You analysed his expression, trying to find any sort of hint towards what he was thinking. Your eyes kept being drawn back to that dried gash of blood across his cheek, and you winced at the thought of him being in any sort of prolonged pain. Maybe you should have fetched some medical supplies for him after all - knowing Jack and the way he was, he always liked to downplay the dangers associated with his job. Every time he wound up in Statesman’s medical wing needing some sort of bullet taken out of him he never once admitted to ever being in pain. Getting injured was part of the job, he always said, so it wasn’t worth it to worry over him everytime he got hurt in the line of duty. He was an expert at saying he was fine when it was all too clear that everything wasn’t.
The sound of Jack sighing heavily pulled you from your thoughts, looking up to see him with his head in his hands, practically exhibiting every clear sign of tension in the book. A small part of you wanted to feel sorry for him, for seeing him like this. “Look, I realise this may be too much to ask of you, considering our history, and part of me hates that I have to in the first place but...I have nowhere else to go. I can’t go back home to either New York or Kentucky. I’m not an agent anymore, so I can’t ask any of them for help, and I’m almost a hundred percent sure that I’ve got some sort of bounty on my head now. I’m on the lam as they call it” he prattled. “I need a place to hide out, to lay low while I sort some shit out”.
The day had already been weird enough already, hearing him ask for your help was only just the cherry on top. Blinking slowly and with your mouth hanging open in utter disbelief, you blurted out “Let me get this straight: you need my help?”.
“Just for a little while, and I promise, sweetheart, as soon as I’m able to I’ll be outta your hair” Jack assured, turning his eyes upwards to you so that you could see his lovely brown eyes, the very same ones that you felt yourself get lost in all those long years ago. “I would never ask this of you unless I had no other choice. You and I both know that”.
You were at a complete loss for words. Between his tone and those frustratingly sweet eyes of his, you weighed your options carefully on what you should do. Should you let him stay with you? On one hand, with what he’d done to you years ago, something that still left you hurting even now, some part of you felt hostile towards him being around again. You remembered being young and 21, giving your heart out to him and only ever receiving empty promises in the end, leaving you with the painful memory of standing crestfallen on a flight of marbled stairs, on a night that you had sworn was gonna end with a ring ending instead with a shattered heart and never-ending glasses of merlot on your lips. Eventually, you’d learnt to live with the heartache. And pretty soon, for the most part, you’d forgotten. Seeing him there, tonight, in your living room of all places, was starting to bring those feelings back. No matter how hard you tried to stifle them, ignore them and focus on the matter at hand, you still felt the bitterness creep into your tone every time you opened your mouth.
Still, even though Jack had hurt you, you couldn’t just leave him out with nothing. From what he told you, he truly had nowhere else to run. If you threw him out now, he could be dead within hours. The mere thought of that made your heart sting, and despite any bad blood between you two you weren’t heartless, so with a small sigh, you at last settled on the answer you would give to him. “Alright. I’ll let you stay. On one condition though: you gotta help out a little with some of the ranch handling stuff. Once you’re all healed up from your injuries of course” you posited. “And don’t bother trying to butter me up, I’m not enough of an idiot to fall for your charms twice. I’m doing you a favour so it would be in your best interest to avoid pissing me off. You think you can handle that?”.
He smirked back at you, though it was void of it’s usual playfulness and felt to be more out of sadness than anything resembling his usual jackassery. “You drive a hard bargain, sweetheart, but yeah, of course. I’d be more than happy to help ya out”.
“Alright. Now…” you nodded at him before turning on your heel in the direction of the kitchen in search of some bandage and gauze for his injuries. “I am going to get you some medical supplies because even though you said you’re fine you clearly aren’t, and I’m not about to have you dropping dead in my goddamn living room. The blood would get all over the carpet and I ain’t lookin’ to pay to get it cleaned” you announced, dropping down to your knees and rifling through one of the lower kitchen cabinets for all the necessary items.
You could hear him chuckle from the living room, imagining him to be wearing a more toned down version of that charming grin he always seemed to have on him. “Ah, you wound me, my dear girl. Where are your folks?”.
His question made your heart seize in your chest, your hands grasped around the roll of bandage and bottle of antiseptic you’d scrounged out from the back of the cupboard. Rising to your feet, you stuttered on your words as you led yourself back into the living room with an arm full of different medical equipment. “They...they died a couple of years ago. It’s been just me for awhile” you answered back, doing your best to ignore the look of surprise that spread across Jack’s face. “I’m sorry to hear that, darlin’”.
Tearing off a strip of bandage, you motioned for him to give you his arm so that you could begin tending to some of the deeper cuts on him. “It’s ok. Well, not ok, really, but what can you do?” you murmured, brushing the length of his torn denim jacket out of the way and pressing down a dash of cold antiseptic cream across one of his cuts, watching as how he winced slightly from the sting. “Life goes on. It has to, or else you get left frozen”. Shaking your head, you began to tie the strip of fabric around his forearm, eager to get off the topic of your deceased loved ones as soon as possible. “I’ll put you up in the guest room upstairs. Don’t go through any of the shit in the cupboards, ok? It’s private stuff”.
“I would never dream of doing so, sugar”.
“Good. Lucky for you, none of these gashes seem too bad so they’ll most likely heal within a couple of days. I’ll just put a bit of adhesive over that awful one you got across your cheek and you’ll be right as rain in no time” you said, popping open the box of adhesive bandages.
Jack smiled at you, albeit weakly as you smoothed the bandage over his cheek. “Thank you for doing this for me. I mean it. Honestly, I didn’t think you were even gonna let me stay here”.
You shot him an odd look at that comment, leaning back down to pick up the various bits of first aid paraphernalia off the floor to deposit back onto the coffee table. “What do you take me for, Jack? I ain’t a cold hearted bitch. I hate you for what you did but I don’t want you to die or anything” you quipped, staring at him straight in the eyes as you said those words. Not allowing him a second to respond, you turned away and began to walk off towards the stairs, starting to feel the exhaustion of the day sink in once again when you placed your foot on the first rung.“You’re all good to go. I’d say go upstairs and get some rest, lord knows that’s what I’ll be doing. If you need anything give me a shout ok?”.
He nodded back at you wordlessly, abruptly turning away afterwards the lean against the couch with his back turned to you, lost back in his own thoughts. You allowed your gaze to linger on him for a moment longer then dragged yourself up the stairs and towards your bedroom, flicking off the hallway lights as you went. In an instant after you heard the click of your bedroom door shut behind you, you allowed yourself to groan out in agony at your entire predicament. So, your ex-boyfriend is on the run and hiding out in your house. This could prove to be interesting...
#agent whiskey#agent whiskey x reader#jack daniels#jack daniels x reader#kingsman: the golden circle#kingsman fanfiction#cross my heart#pedro pascal
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Her arm itches, a deep graze stretching from her elbow to her wrist and smarting in a way that makes Ellie examine it closely, as though she may be bitten. She wasn’t though. Riley had saved her and she didn’t save Riley.
It was a blur after that.
--
prompt: family, day 4 of elliedina week
Ellie's mother doesn't die but Ellie still grows up alone. Ellie was never bitten but she still goes on a journey.
Alternative Universe where I ignore two specific parts of canon.
(day 1: ache) | (day 2: dawn) | (day 3: trouble)
or you can read it here:
Warmth
Family is a complicated word until it isn’t.
She’s never known it until she does.
--
Marlene is the one who finds her after Riley.
Ellie is a bundle of raw nerves, cheeks stained with tears and speckled with blood. She doesn’t think she has anything left to give.
It was meant to be a special night and for a blissful moment it was.
And then it wasn’t.
Riley had been bitten. She saved Ellie’s life and Ellie wasn’t able to save hers.
Riley was her best friend, her person, her something. Her someone with one foot out the door who just agreed to stay.
And now it would be Ellie clinging to Marlene, considering pledging to the Fireflies in her place because one more moment in Boston would make her heart hurt too much.
There must be something extra special in the air, perhaps a shared sense of mourning or grief, maybe Marlene had been more attached to Riley or Ellie than she let on, but she shares something new with Ellie. She knows her mother, a Firefly who was stationed in a lab out west. Still alive.
Ellie isn’t sure if its rage or tears building inside of her, too exhausted to form words or find her way through her emotions.
Mothers were meant to protect and hers clearly hadn’t.
Abandonment was hard to rationalise, but it felt very much like her grief was due to her mother and if she’d never known Riley then Riley would’ve never known her. They’d both be fine and Riley would be alive and her chest wouldn’t hurt like this.
The realisation couldn’t have been recent, it didn’t make sense that Marlene hadn’t told her before. She admits to keeping tabs on Ellie but doesn’t specify why she stayed away.
The offer to journey west with Marlene feels like a form of salvation. She had considered returning to the military school but couldn’t go through with it.
Her arm itches, a deep graze stretching from her elbow to her wrist and smarting in a way that makes Ellie examine it closely, as though she may be bitten. She wasn’t though. Riley had saved her and she didn’t save Riley.
She had cycled rapidly through the first four stages of grief without ever touching acceptance, pacing and screaming and crying for hours. Riley sat resigned in a corner, staring at the gun in her lap as sweat began to build on her brow.
She gave Ellie the gun for protection, kissed her one last time and asked her to walk away.
It was a blur after that.
Marlene gets hurt, Ellie gets lumped with two smugglers and the Capitol building is full of dead Fireflies.
Ellie is fairly certain that either Joel or Tess used to a be parent. Potentially both. Potentially together? She isn’t sure. She overhears bits and pieces of hushed conversations, arguments about how far they are taking her and whether its worth finding the Fireflies and her mother.
Ellie isn’t entirely sure to be honest, the road is gruelling but she’s moving somewhere. Forward, onwards. It’s not like she can move back, and its not like she can stay with Joel or Tess. So onwards it is.
Bill’s town is a shit hole, Pittsburgh is a nightmare, and the suburbs outside of Pittsburgh sends her spiralling. Did Riley turn that way? Fall asleep and wake into oblivion? Was Riley still in there?
Her last conversation with Sam loops over and over in her brain, interrupted occasionally by Tess checking in. Asking and caring in a way that Ellie doesn’t deserve.
“Joel doesn’t handle grief well,” Tess says openly.
Ellie’s eyes flick over to watch Joel ahead of them.
“He pushes it down and refuses to speak about it, but you don’t have to do that,” Tess says, squeezing Ellie in a side hug as they walk. “I’m here whenever you need to speak, or whenever you wanna be silent.”
Ellie nods along but keeps it inside.
Joel shows care differently. He’s gruff and matter of fact and if there’s nothing that needs to be said then he says nothing. It takes Ellie a while to pick up on it because he’s Joel but he always makes sure she eats enough, that she’s between him and Tess, and he makes her put on a jacket when the weather changes.
The first time they meet Tommy is a turning point. They have power and a town and its nothing like the Boston QZ. Or Bill’s town. Or Pittsburgh.
It’s tempting.
Why rush after an unknown entity? A mother in the distance who abandoned her? Who she’d never known? Would their shared blood just make things click? The destination, the conclusion, the end. And what then? Would they get along?
Would Tess and Joel leave?
They wouldn’t stay.
Would Ellie stay?
Ellie’s lost in thought when the attack happens. Tess is immediately on her, making her crouch down under a table as Maria guards the door.
It happens and then it’s over.
They stay one night in Jackson and then they continue.
Ellie tries to call things off. It seems like a safe place to stay, Tommy and Maria said they could come back if the university labs in Eastern Colorado didn’t pan out.
“We’ve come this far, Ellie,” Joel says resolutely.
“You should be with your family, Ellie,” Tess affirms. “It’s rare to have that in this world.”
Ellie clenches her jaw. She’s never known family, never felt it… so how would she know?
“We should at least go to this university.”
And so they do.
It’s another bust.
In a long string of bad luck, nothing changes.
The buildings are deserted, there’s some fucked up infected monkeys, a dead scientist and another location to trek to.
And then there’s FEDRA soldiers.
She’s never been more thankful for Tess in her life.
“There’s three in the building across from us, they’ll head this way soon,” Tess says curtly. “Let’s head two rooms back, wait for them in the hallway. Gunfire will bring more so we’ll hold our positions. Agreed?” Her voice is gruff, almost an imitation of Joel’s and despite the adrenaline rushing through Ellie’s veins, Ellie smiles.
Times moves slowly, the gun is Ellie’s hand is solid and she’s got five bullets which is more than normal so she feels confident.
The soldiers slowly drop.
They wait five minutes at each floor, slowly advancing forward.
Joel bounces his knee as they hide, and Tess divides her time between scanning the entryways and windows and glaring at Joel to ensure he plays by her rules.
They escape relatively unscathed. Joel is bleeding from the temple, his face a mess of red that Tess reassures Ellie is fine. Tess has a bullet graze on her upper arm, a worn grey bandage tied haphazardly over it to stop the blood flow but Ellie thinks it might just make the wound infected. Ellie’s tired, shallow cuts and grazes line her right side from falling onto shattered glass, her head is pounding and she’s over it.
She cries that night. Feeling alone and scared and stupid.
Family is dumb and overrated.
It’s clearly not for her.
Her mother had decided long again.
If her mother didn’t want her then she didn’t want her mother.
She curls into a ball in her sleeping bag, safe elsewhere but feeling unsafe. She presses her fists to her eyes as though it’ll stop her tears and she just shakes, her body wracked with sobs.
A warm hand falls on her back. It’s large and solid and just resting there.
She knows its Joel but can’t bear to look at him.
Tess strokes her hair where it meets the nape of her neck, and Ellie wants to sink into the ground just as much as she doesn’t want them to stop.
She doesn’t speak and neither do they.
--
From where they are in eastern Colorado, Jackson is northwest, and Salt Lake City is west. Its only a few days travel from Salt Lake City to Jackson on horseback. Tess takes the time the following morning to show Ellie on a map.
“If we’re heading back that way anyway, then it’s worth it to check,” Tess tells Ellie, tracing the route they’d take and informing her of their decision more than anything else.
“It’s not worth anything,” Ellie replies, scuffing her shoes on the ground.
“It’s your mum,” Joel says simply.
“Has someone told her that?” Ellie mutters.
Joel and Tess both grimace, sharing a look. Ellie knows family is complicated, she’s been told this and now she’s experiencing it.
“Ellie, she’s your-”
The rage bubbles up inside her before she can stop it. “Everyone I’ve ever loved has either died or left me,” Ellie says with a raised voice, her hands shaking jerkily in front of her. She’s tense and full of energy and she wants to punch something. She can feel tears coming and her throat is dry and it’s too much.
“Ellie-”
“So why should I run after someone who’s already left me?” Ellie yells. “Why should it be this hard? Why do we have to risk this much? Why do you have to risk anything at all?”
They say nothing. Ellie can see pity in their eyes, and before she can stop herself, she punches a tree.
It doesn’t make her feel better.
Joel bandages her hand, three of her knuckles split. He’s gentler than she’s ever seen him and it makes her feel small for some reason.
“Kiddo, we don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” Joel says in a low tone. “You can- You can choose, it should be your choice.”
“It can’t be for nothing,” Ellie says bitterly, emotions swirling inside of her.
“If it doesn’t work,” Tess says, patting Ellie’s knee. “Then you don’t have to stay.”
“Where else can I go?” Ellie asks, squeezing her eyes shut, cheeks burning with embarrassment.
“There’s always Jackson,” Tess offers.
“But- I-”
“With us,” Joel says awkwardly. “If- if you wanted.”
Ellie’s throat is tight.
“I could teach you how to play guitar,” he offers. “I reckon you’d like that.”
“Maybe,” Ellie says softly.
And they continue on.
The journey from Colorado to Salt Lake City isn’t an easy one. Nothing was ever easy.
The weather gets colder which makes it harder to navigate, harder to find food, and harder to sleep.
She feels more as they get closer. More scared, more nervous, more anxious.
Just more.
She struggles to make sense of it, not sure what she’s looking for or what they’ll find. What she’s already found.
They’re on form. Heading through a bus depot, exiting the last highway and clearing through an underground tunnel.
They’re almost there and then there’s rushing water and straining lungs and darkness.
--
Ellie wakes in a hospital with a stranger beside her bed.
The woman’s eyes are green, her expression is soft, and she tuts over Ellie sitting up too early.
“Easy, easy,” the strangers says, hands reaching out to help Ellie sits up.
Ellie’s body freezes, jerking away from her. “Where are Joel and Tess?”
“I asked them to give us some time alone,” the woman says. “I’m your- I’m Anna.”
Ellie takes her in with wide eyes, waking into an anticipated moment was hard to process. “Can- where’s- I don’t-”
Anna hushes her and draws Ellie into a tight hug that she doesn’t relax into.
Meeting Anna doesn’t make things easier for Ellie.
There’s a sense of warmth there, honey in Anna’s voice, a soft touch and an excited expression.
Anna rushes through excuses, building a narrative of a complicated birth, a missing father and a sense of duty to the Firefly cause. She didn’t want Ellie to come out here, she was safer in a QZ until her mother had figured out the cure she’d devoted her life to. Her words are sure and well-spoken, she pauses in places like she anticipates Ellie reassuring her, and then she continues painting her picture of abandoning Ellie for noble reasons.
Ellie nods along.
It ticks so many boxes, but something is off and Ellie cannot place it. There’s a hardness behind Anna’s eyes, something she’s sometimes seen in her own, and it feels off.
“Do you have any questions, my love?” Anna asks, tone saccharine.
“Where’s- where’s Joel and Tess?” Ellie asks awkwardly.
Anna’s smile turns a little bitter at her words but she takes Ellie to them nonetheless.
“We’ve got it from here,” Marlene says, her voice is muffled but Ellie picks up the words as they approach. “You can take the guns as agreed.”
“We’re not leaving without checking on her,” Tess’s voice says firmly.
Anna’s steps turn heavy, as though to announce her approach.
Marlene changes the conversation quickly as they enter.
“Ellie!”
Ellie throws herself at Tess, initiating a hug for the first time in their long journey. She clings to her, relaxing in the safety of her arms.
“It’s good to see you up, kiddo,” Joel says, a protective hand on Ellie’s shoulder.
She hugs him as well, relieved to be reunited and to see Joel in one piece after the tunnels.
“You’re welcome to stay for a couple of days,” Marlene says curtly.
It’s clear she doesn’t mean it.
Joel and Tess stay anyway.
--
Anna is involved in testing to find a ‘cure’ for the infection. She works with some doctor. Talks about how she used to be a nurse and had diversified her skills over the last 14 years in immunology, pathology and mycology.
Anna seems to want to share everything, tell Ellie everything and nothing, unable to sit in the silence that Ellie offers.
Ellie doesn’t particularly care, too focused on the way that the Fireflies hover over Joel and Tess like they aren’t allowed to go to certain parts of their hospital or their base. The way that whispers cease when she turns a corner, the blood splatter on doctor’s coats, and the weird feeling that Infected are nearby.
It feels off.
There’s something out of place.
It doesn’t take long to click.
Or at least, it doesn’t take Ellie long to venture where she’s not allowed to go. She uses every trick Joel and Tess taught her about being stealthy, sneaking passed Fireflies to reach the upper floors of the hospital in the middle of the night.
There’s Infected in cages. Dozens of them.
She supposes it makes sense if you’re studying immunology to find a vaccine.
Cages are marked with numbers and dates.
#259, vaccine 23, injected: 20/04/34, infected: 21/04/34, turned: 22/04/34
#260, vaccine 23, injected: 20/04/34, infected: 21/04/34, turned: 23/04/34
Her eyes linger on the dates, only days prior, comparing those around her.
Someone passes the room she’s in, footsteps audible between the groaning of the Infected and Ellie is terrified.
She hides under a desk, flashlight off, in the total darkness of a room filled with nightmares.
Once she’s certain they are gone, she gets up, hands shaky as she searches through paperwork.
It confirms what she thinks.
She drops the notebook in shock, the sound alerting several of the runners. Within seconds they are snarling, baring their teeth, and pounding on the doors of their cages.
They’re locked away and yet she’s never been more terrified, stuck in place and trembling.
She hears guards shouting, footsteps rushing closer.
The room is flooded with light when they arrive, and Ellie finally moves. She rushes forward, ducking passed them in the doorway.
She runs and she doesn’t stop.
They don’t shoot and they don’t chase her.
--
She finds comfort when she finds Joel and Tess. Too overwhelmed and too worked up to be able to explain what she saw and what she now knows.
Her mother is experimenting on humans to find a cure.
Injecting them with a trial vaccine, infecting them with the virus, studying them as they turn, and then dissecting them.
Hundreds.
#260.
The knock at the door that goes ignored so Marlene and Anna enter anyway.
Joel stands in front of them, partially shielding Ellie and Tess from view.
“What can I help you with?” Joel asks, crossing his arms. His tone is serious and its impossible to tell that Ellie has shared nothing with him.
“I just wanted to explain what Ellie saw,” Anna says, holding her hands up. “Sometimes sacrifice is needed for the greater good, I’m sure you understand that.”
Tess stiffens against Ellie, holding her tighter. “Are you okay?” She whispers in Ellie’s ear.
Ellie nods but she’s uncertain, she pulls away to watch, eyes studying Anna.
“In order to create a vaccine,” Anna continues. “There’s a need for trials. There are- we’ve had-” She falters, clenching her hands into fists by her sides. “Immunology is complex and working tirelessly in order to create a vaccine for animals which do not ordinarily get Infected does not necessarily help to create a vaccine for animals that do.”
Ellie narrows her eyes. “So you test on humans instead?” She offers plainly. “You make up a vaccine, you give it to someone and you infect them and you just take notes as they suffer.”
Anna’s nostrils flare.
“We’re learning a lot,” Marlene says. “We don’t like it either but it needs to be done.”
“Two hundred and sixty times?” Ellie asks.
Tess swears.
“Where are you finding two hundred and sixty people to experiment on?” Joel says threateningly.
“We have to think about the future,” Anna says coldly.
“You’re monsters,” Ellie snarls.
Anna’s jaw tightens, she shakes her head as though she’s deciding the argument isn’t worth it and she walks away.
“They’re not good people, Joel,” Marlene says, rubbing her eyes. “Most of them are hunters and- and think of how many people we could save if we get this right.”
“We’re leaving in the morning,” Joel tells her. “Please go.”
And Marlene does.
Ellie sits stiffly on the bed, fidgeting with her hands as Joel and Tess talk circles around her.
“Human testing?”
“Hundreds of people.”
“What if they never find a vaccine? How many more will they go through?”
“I always knew the Fireflies were misguided but fuck.”
She zones out, disassociating more than anything else as she thinks about Riley and Sam, about hundreds of Rileys and Sams, about being cold and feverish and knowing what’s coming and not knowing how it would come.
She must fall asleep at some point because she wakes up to Tess stroking her hair and smiling sadly.
Joel and Tess have packed and they’re ready to leave.
It takes Ellie several sluggish moments, heartbroken and half asleep, to register than they mean to take her too.
“Really?” Ellie asks.
“Of course,” Tess says, like its nothing.
“We’re family,” Joel says, like its everything.
--
Ellie leaves with them.
Anna doesn’t really say goodbye and neither does Ellie.
It had felt like Anna was trying to build something between them, but she was really pretending something was already there. But there was nothing. No spark, no connection, no meaning. The journey had been worthless.
Ellie shouldn’t have run after someone who already left her.
Family was both complicated and simple.
Out of reach and sneaking up on her.
Her mother was nothing and no one, and the smugglers were now something and someone.
--
“It’s kinda pretty, ain’t it?” Joel says, gesturing to the snow-capped mountains surrounding them.
“Yeah, it’s gorgeous in Spring, Texas,” Tess grins, helping Ellie over a fence. “This whole area is covered in wildflowers.”
They’re on the outskirts of Jackson, almost back to where they were months previously. Months of danger and sleeplessness and darkness.
Risks and close calls.
For nothing.
“Sarah and I used to take hikes like this all the time,” Joel says easily. “I reckon the two of you would’ve been friends.”
Ellie nods along, thoughts elsewhere.
“Just a little bit further now,” Tess says eagerly, giving Ellie a boost onto a higher bit of ground.
Joel lends a hand to stabilise her and then pulls up Tess.
“Hey, wait,” Ellie says, looking out toward Jackson and then down at her hands. She sighs as she tries to find her words. “I’ve been meaning to tell you but, back in Boston… before I left, I was- I was somewhere I shouldn’t be with my friend. My best friend. She got bit and we didn’t know what to do so we tried to wait it out and she made me leave before she turned.”
“I’m sorry, Ellie,” Tess says quietly. “I know how hard that can be.”
“Do you think they-” Ellie rubs the back of her neck. “Do you think they’re still inside? Like they’re stuck?”
“No. No, Ellie I don’t,” Tess says. “I think they’ve moved on. They’re at peace.”
Joel is silent and awkward, but his eyes are kind.
“I’m sorry we went all that way for nothing, I-” Ellie falters, biting her lip. “You both risked so much and I don’t think I could have handled someone else dying or- or turning because of me.”
“Your friend’s death wasn’t your fault,” Tess says.
“I feel like it should have been me and not her,” Ellie admits.
“Ellie, I’ve struggled a long time with surviving,” Joel says. “But no matter what, you keep finding something to fight for.”
Ellie fidgets with her fingers, scratching at her arm. “I just-” She huffs. “I just feel like we fought through all of that for nothing. We came all this way and for what?”
“For you,” Joel says plainly.
Ellie tears up, nodding and sniffing and doing her best to keep it together.
Family is a complicated word until it isn’t, she’s never known it until she does, and she feels it constantly in Jackson.
In their meals together, in learning how to play guitar, in movie nights, in sharing books, learning how to swim, and to grow and move forward.
She tells them she loves them on her sixteenth birthday in an abandoned museum.
She tells Tess and Joel she likes girls the day that she decks someone for taunting her about Cat.
She goes hiking with Joel when she and Cat inevitably break up, finding peace in the open air.
She cries on Tess’s shoulder when Dina and Jesse get back together for the third time. A mess of complicated feelings loud in her chest.
Joel helps her practice playing her song for the end of harvest bonfire and Tess helps her pick out a shirt to wear to the town’s winter dance.
“I’m just a girl, not a threat,” Ellie says softly.
“Oh, Ellie, I think they should be terrified of you,” Dina murmurs. Her eyes are bright, she feels warm and perfect in Ellie’s arms, and she steals Ellie’s breath long before she kisses her.
She distantly hears someone calling out, too lost in the tenderness of the moment to register it properly.
“God, I-” Ellie laughs at herself and her breathlessness, eyes lingering on Dina’s affectionate smile before she kisses Dina again.
Once. Twice. Soundly and enthusiastically.
When she pulls back the second time, she notices Joel and Tess having words with Seth. They look angry and Maria seems to have put herself in the middle, mediating and ushering Seth outside.
Dina’s hand on her cheek makes her refocus.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” Dina whispers playfully.
Ellie’s cheeks flush pink, smiling in disbelief, her fingers flexing on Dina’s lower back. “Me too,” Ellie admits shyly.
Dina leans her forehead against Ellie’s again, swaying them together slowly under the twinkling lights.
#i'm kinda both proud and self-conscious about this one#it was both a challenging and fascinating idea#my next fic is a continuation in the same world#don't think about that too hard#tlou2 fanfic#elliedina week#my writing
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Ichor In Your Veins
CW: Blowjob
After the initial shock (and stab of lust) at seeing Geralt hopped up on potions, Jaskier couldn’t stop thinking about it. He already adored the unbridled power that shifted under Geralt’s skin on a regular day. But when he was still panting and growling, having fought some creature with the aid of potions, that was something that sent Jaskier’s little heart fluttering. There was something viscerally attractive about a mountain of muscle with pitch black eyes heaving in breaths while victorious over some bloodthirsty creature. All Jaskier wanted to do was drop to his knees and worship Geralt in those moments.
His time to shine came sooner than he could have dreamed. The contact had promised to be one yghern, or rather, a giant centipede. Geralt was prepared with his silver sword drenched in insectoid oil. The locals made so much noise about the size of the creature and the horrors, Geralt had a potion in hand and ready. Though nobody apart from one stablehand had seen the creature, everyone talked about it as the most grotesque and vicious beast. It wasn’t one Jaskier had witnessed before and, promising to stay safely up a tree, he was allowed to join Geralt.
Climbing up into a suitable tree, Jaskier watched Geralt stalk the area, cast ydren traps in what he deemed likely locations. Oddly, the giant centipede had been seen in the stables which was unusual. Though, if there were horses there, it would have seen them as food and possibly made an attempt. How the stablehand and all the horses came away unscathed was beyond logic but Geralt didn’t question the facts he was given.
An hour passed. Then another. Geralt had stomped the ground to try and entice the giant centipede, he had prowled the area, ended up leaning against Jaskier’s tree and grumbled about creatures just knowing when things weren’t right and a witcher was in the area. He was geared up for a fight but it wasn’t happening.
A scream went up from the stables and Geralt was racing to them, cursing as he chugged the potion. Some idiot had obviously followed them, hoping to either see the fight or be deemed a hero for their stupidity.
“It’s here! Witcher! Help!”
Jaskier followed because he was curious. This didn’t have any of the hallmarks of a usual contract. Trotting up behind Geralt, he watched with great interest. The stablehand was pressed up against a wall, standing on a bucket with wild, panicked eyes. However, Geralt’s sword was down and he was staring at the ground, utterly dumbfounded.
“Is this your giant centipede?” Geralt growled.
“Quick! Kill it! Please!”
Peering over Geralt’s shoulder, Jaskier almost laughed. On the floor was a centipede, it was larger than usual but it was most definitely not the size Geralt usually dealt with. It was nothing more than an unusually large common centipede. With a growling stomp, the centipede was no more under Geralt’s boot.
“He saved us!” The stablehand cried.
“He did,” Jaskier agreed, a hand coming up to clasp Geralt’s shoulder, holding him into place, feeling his quivering with unspent energy. “Now please go spread the good news to your village. We must have a few more hours here to make sure there are no more giant centipedes in the area. Nobody must disturb us.”
Jubilant but also terrified that a black eyed witcher was growling and looking ready to pounce at anything that moved, the stablehand hurried off with promises of sharing the word. Which left Jaskier with a very agitated witcher to deal with. Too much energy and no fight to burn it all off in.
“Well then,” Jaskier looked around for a good spot and grinned at the sight of an empty stall. “In there we go.”
“Don’t-” Geralt growled and looked to resist but Jaskier effortlessly herded him into the stall because, despite all his bluster, Geralt was all bark and no bite. He did turn to stare at Jaskier once they were in relative privacy.
All words froze in Geralt’s throat by the looks of things. From his vantage point on his knees, Jaskier could read the shock in those black eyes.
“Just relax,” he murmured with a grin. “Let me help you deal with it all.”
It wasn’t anything new as such, the intimacy between them was comfortable and familiar. The novelty of it had worn off months ago. However, doing it while Geralt’s veins were black with potions, after a fight that never was, as a means of coping with the pent up energy, that was new. Usually, Geralt was much more shy with his potions, fearful it would send Jaskier into a panic. He never believed it when told that Jaskier thought him sexy and very appealing. Now, it was time to prove his words.
Buckles and ties were bothersome and Jaskier’s hands were trembling in excitement. Finally, he succeeded in pulling Geralt free and he sat back on his heels with a soft “oh”. Eyes darting up, he could read the shame and discomfort in Geralt’s face which just wouldn’t do.
“You’ve been hiding this from me all along?” The chastising was meant as a joke as Jaskier pulled a finger along Geralt’s cock, tracking the blackened veins on it. In a way, it made sense and Jaskier couldn’t believe his imagination hadn’t been good enough to come up with it until now. There was only one way to repent for such stupidity. With zero hesitation he leaned in and licked over the darkened head of Geralt’s cock, keeping his eyes on his lover’s pitch black ones.
Taking it slow, Jaskier kept his licks up while Geralt looked more and more wrecked. However, his cock remained soft under Jaskier’s ministrations.
“Sorry,” Geralt growled and tried to pull away, stepping back and his back hit the stall wall.
Determinedly shuffling after him, Jaskier put his hands on Geralt’s hips. “Don’t be. Just let me.”
One hand moved from Geralt’s hip to his cock and down, gently stroking over his balls and pressing behind them. It earned him a grunt and Geralt’s whole body twitched.
“It’s not going to-”
“I don’t care,” Jaskier interrupted. “Does it feel good?”
He was given a nod which he took as permission to continue. It wasn’t difficult work, tracing black veins over soft skin, drawing sighs and grunt from Geralt. At least he was looking a lot less on edge, the tension and energy thrumming through him was dissipating with each grunt Jaskier could draw from him.
Time passed but Jaskier didn’t let up. His jaw wasn’t aching yet and he could move or change as he needed to keep comfortable. Even better, despite staying soft, Geralt had slowly begun to slowly leak, betraying the pleasure he was feeling. Gradually, Jaskier was certain he could feel Geralt filling out. A look up at his face and it was evident the potions were wearing off. While his eyes were still black and the veins prominently black, the wild, caged look was melting away.
“There you are,” Jaskier purred and took Geralt between his lips. He cherished the way it twitched with each slow heartbeat, slowly getting bigger. Pulling back, Jaskier admired the half hard cock and the way Geralt panted above him. Spit made his cock glisten, the bulge of black veins an exotic trail for Jaskier’s tongue to follow. Even the head was darker, flushed with black blood, giving it a darkened, dusky purple shade.
“Don’t hold back.” Reaching up, Jaskier grabbed Geralt’s hands and guided them to the back of his head, allowing them to push him lower down on his cock. Moaning, Jaskier tried to encourage him to let go, to work off some of the energy in a way he knew they could.
Thankfully, after a few sighs of pleasure, Geralt seemed to decide Jaskier’s offer was genuine. He tentatively rolled his hips, pushing more of himself between spit slicked lips. It was all a wet mess, drool covered Jaskier’s chin, Geralt’s balls, it was all wet and helped hands glide more smoothly.
“Fuck,” Geralt grunted. His body was finally catching up with his mind it seemed and Jaskier smiled as much as he could, triumphant. Finally, Geralt was taking what he needed, muscles quaking as pleasure mounted.
A firm hand tugged Jaskier away and he whined but it quickly turned into an appreciative moan with his mouth open, tongue out as Geralt came over him. Warm stripes of come landed on his cheek, tongue and chest. Peering up, Jaskier smirked as golden eyes stared down at him, cheeks flushed a healthy red. Even the veins on Geralt’s cock were back to their more usual colour. It didn’t stop Jaskier from leaning forward and licking over them to draw a shuddering sigh from Geralt.
“Wonderful, my ploy worked!”
He got up and let out a soft squeal when the world spun and he was pressed against the wall, a thick thigh between his legs and a tongue lapping to come off his cheek and lips.
“You bought us a couple of hours,” Geralt growled. “And I would feel bad taking their coin unless we make a good show of being thorough.”
Really, Jaskier couldn’t argue with that logic. Technically, they had vanquished the giant centipede according to their agreement with the village. It didn’t matter that it was a rather small giant centipede. They had fulfilled their end of the bargain, wasted a potion too. But, for the coin they were getting, they could afford to spend a little while longer out of town, keeping up the pretence of making sure the village was safe. With a happy groan, Jaskier ground up against Geralt’s thigh and tipped his head back, inviting sharp teeth to mark his neck. They could always tell villagers that hunting centipedes was dangerous business. It was more believable than saying Jaskier got ravished by his witcher. That would definitely get them laughed out of the village. So, in the name of peace, Jaskier took his pleasure too.
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“The Savior Sessions” Part 3 of 33 - Negan x GN!Reader
IMAGE CREDIT: Gene Page/AMC
SERIES MASTERLIST
Summary: Part three of the savior sessions. Both the reader and Negan open up about their fears on a rainy day.
Word Count: 3130
Warning: Mention of The Governor being a rapist (briefly)
Song I Wrote To: “Rain” by Ben Platt
Note: I am trying to make these as gender-neutral as possible. If you have seen me use specific pronouns or anything that counters that, let me know! Thanks! I am working on my Daryl story, but I wanted to throw this out there as I do.
--------
It was raining when you woke up.
Droplets raced down your windows and thunder rolled in the distance. You knew it would be a day that was spent mostly inside. However, you also knew you had to pay Negan a visit.
It was odd. He had surprised you. You could still see the layers of the man he was years before, but there was something...new that wasn’t there when he stepped out of that RV and introduced himself to your people.
Since you were young, you always believed in second chances. You never really thought anyone was truly evil until the world ended. Then, you had met people like the Governor and Gareth, two men who killed who for fun, who took pleasure in the torture and destruction of others.
While Negan had done evil things, you didn’t think he was evil. If horrific acts categorize someone as unsavable, then those closest to you, and even yourself, would be considered just as bad. Nobody was innocent in the new world, but perhaps some of them could still find redemption.
Rolling onto your back, you stared up at the ceiling as the rain pelted the roof. The drumming of it drowned out the world for just a moment and you allowed yourself just a few more seconds of peace before throwing the blanket off and getting up for the day.
You quickly dressed and then made way your way to the window. Few people milled around in the soaked streets. A few kids splashed in puddles as their parents smiled from the cover of their porches. You watched as Gracie ran around as Aaron tried to catch her, both of them laughing the whole time.
Your house was one of the only ones that were left unscathed from the Savior’s attack. You lived next to Rosita who would sometimes use your spare bedroom when she needed a break from her boys. However, you tended to be alone for the most part unless one of the parents asked you to watch the kids. Being a teacher before the turn, you were really the only one who was able to get the little ones to calm down and listen.
Many people figured you would be the one to take over as the full-time teacher in Alexandria, but you couldn’t do it. You loved teaching back then, but now after everything, you were so different. And while you still cared about the kids, you were now more comfortable with a gun on your hip, watching the walls, or now, chatting with a killer.
You grabbed your coat and then headed out of your house, walking towards the infirmary. Siddiq had been experimenting with a new tea that would help improve the immune systems of the Alexandria residents as the weather turned for the worse. Laura had been his last guinea pig for a taste test and the blonde had nearly choked it down while she tried to put on a brave face. However, the doctor had seen right through her and tried again.
You were more than willing to help him out this morning as he had stitched you up enough over the past few years. The rain soaked your hair as you walked down the road, trying to keep your jacket tucked around your neck to keep the bandage that was placed there somewhat dry. Siddiq had patched you up the day before, but you had no desire to get an infection from a ruined bandage.
As you approached the infirmary, Siddiq was already waiting for you on the porch. “I saw you coming,” he said with a warm smile.
“I would have been here sooner, but I slept in,” you said with an apologetic shrug.
“It’s the weather,” Siddiq said as he picked up two mugs from the table by the door. When he handed both of them to you, you rose a brow in question. “It gets cold in that cell,” he said with a shrug of his own. You smiled slightly, oddly touched that Siddiq had thought of Negan. Then again, he was the one who had looked after the man after Rick had opened his throat.
You took a hesitant sip of the sweet-smelling tea and then relaxed as it actually tasted pretty good. “I think you managed to get this one right, Doctor,” you said raising your cup to him.
“Mind telling other people that?” he asked.
“I’ll spread the word, Siddiq,” you said, walking back down his steps.
“Have fun,” he teased.
“If both of my hands weren’t occupied, I would be sending you a very rude gesture right now,” you called over your shoulder as you continued toward the main road that led to Negan’s cell.
The guard waved to you as he left his post. You figured he hadn’t been there long. You were also trying to convince Michonne to drop the guard altogether. Negan knew he would most likely be executed if he broke out and from your conversations with him, you didn’t think he would try anyway.
Balancing the mugs in one hand, you entered the stone building, shoving the door close with your foot. “Someone has their hands full this mornin’,” Negan said as he stood by the bars.
“Courtesy of the good doctor,” you said, approaching him and handing him a steaming mug. “Trust me, I already checked for poison.” You hadn’t but it amused him. Negan took the mug through the bars and enclosed his hands around it.
Not bothering with the chair this time, you sat on the ground by the bars, pulling your knees up. Negan joined you, leaning against the cold wall. “How was your morning?” he asked, pleasantly. You chuckled under your breath. “What?”
“Nothing,” you said shaking your head. “It’s been...wet.” Negan looked at you and you rolled your eyes. “Don’t be gross,” you warned and he raised a hand in surrender.
“I didn’t say anything,” he said.
“No, but you were thinking it,” you said with narrowed eyes.
“Ah, see, would you look at that! We’re so close we can already read each other’s minds.”
“Oh, great,” you said, turning up your nose. Negan mirrored your earlier expression and rolled his own eyes.
“So, you don’t like the rain, then?” he asked.
“I don’t care for the thunderstorms, but I like a little rain. It makes the Walkers slower and freshens up the rotten air,” you explained, sipping on your tea.
“Yeah,” Negan agreed, “I’m not too big on the thunderstorms either. Way back when the world was still somewhat functioning, we had a massive storm that cut the power right in the middle of the school day. Kids are rambunctious enough and then you give the little assholes a power outage and well…”
“Shit hits the fan,” you concluded.
“You sound like you have personal experience,” Negan noticed.
“I used to teach middle and high school English,” you revealed and Negan looked at you in surprise.
“Did you like it?”
“It was better than this,” you said with a snort.
“Fair enough,” Negan said. You let your head fall back and that’s when he noticed the bandage on your neck. “What happened there?” Your hand came up to touch the dressing.
“Oh, I got cut when I was helping Scott with one of the walls. Walkers snuck up on us and I tripped on a piece of metal, scratch it on my way down. No big deal, I’ve had worse.”
“Haven’t we all,” Negan muttered and you saw a flash of something behind his eyes, but it was gone in a second. “Well, you need to be more careful (Y/N), I can’t have my BFF gettin’ munched on by a corpse.”
“BFF?” you asked with raised brows. Negan just winked back. “Alright, Mister, today, I want to hear a story from you.”
“I thought you said you were going to tell me what your vote would be,” Negan said, turning his head to look at you, waiting. You sighed as you remembered promising him that at the end of your last conversation, but you had been doing most of the talking in these sessions and it was his turn.
“Story first,” you told him. “Then I’ll tell you.” He looked at you annoyed for a moment before shrugging.
“As you wish, your majesty,” he said, but then he began his story. “Alright, how about the first time I ran into a herd?”
“Oh? Do tell,” you said, resting your elbow on your knee and watching him.
“Right, so, it wasn’t long after the Turn. Corpses were everywhere and you couldn’t walk out the door without having to bash in some skulls. I was trying to find someplace to hold up for a few days. I was with two other people, both are dead now, but they were decent people to travel with. My wife had just died and I needed to just leave, you know?” you nodded, understanding. “I made it to Richmond and god the number of Walkers was fucking terrifying. At this point, nobody knew what the fuck was going on. Not like we do now, but it was different back then as you remember.
“We moved into the city and then when I headed into the main district, lookin’ for the old FEMA centers, that’s when we saw it. Must have been over five hundred, maybe more. It was like they were all rotating in one big circle and then the bastards saw us and...well shit, I had never run so damn fast in my life. It was like we were magnets for the things and no matter where we turned, there were more and more…” Negan let out a breath as his memories haunted him.
“What did you do to get away?” you asked.
“Managed to get an old tow truck workin’,” he said. “Plowed that sucker right through them until we could find high ground. Wasn’t pretty, but dealing with Walkers never is.”
“I think we all learned not to go to cities again after the first time,” you said, finishing your tea.
“You did it too?”
“Atlanta,” you said with a nod. “Though, I did it multiple times for supplies so I guess I’m the idiot here.”
“These were the runs you went on with Glenn?” he asked and you were surprised to hear him say Glenn’s name, but you nodded nonetheless.
“Right,” you confirmed. “Though, I wasn’t with him the day he found Rick.”
Negan was quiet then and you knew he was thinking about Glenn. A few days before, Gabriel had come to you and told you that he sometimes overheard Negan saying his victims’ names in his sleep. Negan probably didn’t even know he was doing it, but it only added to your theory that Negan felt guilt for what happened at the line-up and everything afterward.
“The fear I felt when all those Walkers were coming for us…” Negan continued. “It was the most primal thing I had ever felt. You know how they talk about fight or flight?”
“Yeah.”
“I never once thought to fight at that moment. All I wanted to do was run and not look back. It wasn’t until weeks later that I got sick of running and I finally made Lucille.”
“‘Lucille, give me strength’,” you quoted and his head whipped towards you. “I told you, I was good at surveillance. I guess she did more for you than we all first thought. Not just a bat after all.”
“Never was that simple,” he said and you could hear the sadness in his voice as he spoke the words.
You were wondering if you could find her out in that field. It had been years, but if by some miracle it was there, you may be able to get it. Not that you were going to give it to Negan, but maybe someday if he was let out and went looking for her, you could give that piece back to him. The thing that was hated by your people but created the resilient man before you. You figured that was something.
“You asked me before who the first person I killed was,” you began. Negan waited patiently. “I never knew his name or if he had a family, but I remember his face and how I felt at that moment. I was terrified. We were under attack by this man who called himself The Governor. This man ran a community, a town, and he was horrible. He was a rapist, a killer, and an overall tyrant. Not somebody that would have been welcomed here or the Sanctuary.”
“Damn right,” Negan sneered.
“We had liberated the town and Michonne had tried to kill him so he was pissed and eventually rolled up to the gates of the prison we were living in. He blasted our towers to rubble and his men and women began killing us. We were lucky enough to be pretty strong then and we killed most of them. Daryl got his hands on some grenades and took the tank out.”
“Tank?” Negan asked.
“I told you, son of a bitch was crazy. His people attacked and we had to defend ourselves. I was trying to wrangle all the kids with a man by the name of Tyreese. He was Sasha’s brother. He and I were almost out when this man came up and tried to kill Tyreese as he held a very young Judith in his arms.”
Taking a breath, you tried to stay calm as you recounted the events. “He was gonna kill the baby and I had one of Daryl’s knife so I just rammed it into the man’s neck. I didn’t think it would be that hard, you know? Walkers are much easier, so when the blade made contact, it almost didn’t go through. Blood flowed all over me from the artery I had severed and Tyreese ran with Judith. I watched the man die at my feet as I collected myself, but it didn’t last long. A second later and an explosion racked the courtyard and I went down. I didn’t see Tyreese or the baby until we were all reunited.”
“You did it to protect your people, to protect a child,” Negan reminded you.
“I wasn’t upset I killed him, Negan,” you said. “I was upset at how easy it was to do it.”
“I get that,” he said and you could tell he was being honest. That was something you admired about him, he never lied if he could help it. “What happened after that?”
“Michonne killed the Governor and I woke up just as a Walker was about to kill me. Then, Glenn came out of nowhere and killed it and I ended up staying with him and Tara as we went to find the others. On the road is where we met Rosita, Abraham, and Eugene. I didn’t know it then, but I would be killing a lot more in the next few weeks.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not and you wouldn’t be either if you knew who tried to kill us...who tried to fucking slaughter us like cows…” your fists curled in as the visuals of Terminus flashed behind your eyes.
You hadn’t realized you were shaking until you felt a hand on yours as Negan reached through the bars to calm your hands. You realized then that this was the first time he had touched you and you felt oddly comforted. You patted his hand in thanks and he withdrew it, placing it back in his lap. “So, just know you’re not the only one who has felt fear like you did in that city.”
“But you fought,” he said.
“I did, but all I wanted to do was run. It took me a long time to run towards danger than from it. Rick, Daryl, Carol, Abe, they all taught me to fight.”
“They did a good job,” he complimented. “You are one certified badass (Y/L/N).”
“Who told you my last name?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.
“Judith,” he said with a grin.
“Should have known,” you said with a small smile.
“There it is,” Negan said, pointing at your mouth. “I like seeing you smile.” You went to roll your eyes again, but a loud crash of thunder interrupted you. You jumped.
“Jesus,” you swore under your breath. “That is why I hate storms.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” he joked and you pushed his shoulder through the bars, making him laugh. The two of you sat in silence then, listening to the rain. This was only your third time speaking to him, but you were starting to feel a kind of camaraderie between the two of you. It was strange, but it began to feel natural. You wondered if this is how Judith felt when she spoke to him, this kind of calmness. Then again, Judith could make friends with everyone.
Negan’s eyes fell closed as he breathed in deep. In the low light of the cell, you could see the shiny line of the scar that permanently marked his throat and you finally answered his question.
“I would have voted no,” you whispered. His eyes opened slowly and his head rolled to the right to look at you.
“Why?” he simply asked. You kept eye contact as you spoke, making sure he understood every word.
“None of us are saints, Negan,” you began. “All of us, Hilltop, Alexandria, Kingdom, Oceanside, we’ve all killed without a second thought to protect what’s ours. I’m not saying what you did was right, but sometimes I think back to the line-up or when you set the Walkers loose on Hilltop and I can’t help but think that I would’ve done the same if the situation was reversed. Maybe not with a baseball bat, but we’ve tortured and we’ve executed.”
“So, you’re saying that you wouldn’t have killed me because you’ve done shitty things, too?” he asked.
“There is enough death in the world already,” you said with a shrug.
“Unbeing dead isn't being alive,” Negan quotes and you tilted your head slightly.
“E.E. Cummings was a wise man.”
“Indeed he was,” Negan agreed with a smile. “Thanks for saying that.”
“I told you I didn’t hate you and I meant it. To an outsider, we’re both monsters,” you explained. “I imagine that if I had been with the Saviors, I would have seen this side as the villains. All about perception, my friend.”
“Ah, so you agree,” he said with a grin, “we are friends.”
“Oh, shut up.”
TAGS: @thanossexual @yes-sir-hotchner @boom-bunny @delusionalteenagewhispers @sophia-gwendolyn @ritajammer21
#walkerwords#savior sessions#twd#twd imagines#negan imagine#negan x reader#reader insert#The Walking Dead#the walking dead imagines#the walking dead fanfiction#TWD season 9#Prison Negan
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My Top 5 Least Favourite Beyblade Characters
I've talked about this in a few asks but I thought I'd go more into detail about the characters I hate most in this metal top show. Remember, I like more characters than I don't like and some of the characters I'm going to talk about are actually well-written characters objectively, they just annoy me personally. Starting with:
5) Masamune
Masamune is lowest on this list because I don't hate him. I personally find his personality annoying but he is a well written character. He gets good development over the course of Metal Masters and Metal Fury and his friendship with King is really cute. However, he is completely full of himself. The difference between him and someone like Kyoya or Ryuga is that at least in comparison, Kyoya and Ryuga don't actually talk themselves up that much. They let their actions speak for themselves for the most part. They are absolutely arrogant and do brag but not to the same degree as Masamune, who is far less skilled in comparison. He also doesn't know when to shut up and was a really shitty friend to Toby and Zeo. However, at least the show calls him out for what he did to Zeo and Toby and makes it part of the plot. Still completely selfish and horrible though.
4) Johannes
Cat-boy thingy is creepy and I don't like him. He makes me uncomfortable. I don't have a reason really I just don't like the way he is. I’m a cat person too but the way he literally acts like a cat, meowing and sitting like one, is just weird. He’s also just some annoying boring villain underling, like Jack or Reiji without the brainwashing and sympathetic backstory, which spared the two of them from this list by the way. I may not like either of them but they are interesting to talk about and I get why other people like them. Johannes meanwhile is just there to get in the way. He doesn’t do anything interesting he’s just weird and annoying to me. Tetsuya is the same way to me by the way and I could’ve put either him or Johannes on this list.
3) The Garcias
I'm lumping this entire family together because while I have separate small reasons for hating them individually, I hate all of them for the same big reason: I hate their attitude. They act like they're better than everyone else because they apparently "suffered more." First of all, suffering is subjective. Saying that one person has suffered more than another diminishes their suffering and is just arrogant. Yes, the Garcias live in poverty in a harsh neighborhood. They had a hard life and are trying to get out of it but that doesn't excuse them being obnoxious cheaters. I hate how they act like no one else has suffered more than them when LITERALLY EVERYONE ON GAN GAN GALAXY IS HORRIBLY TRAUMATIZED. Besides Masamune at this point but he didn't get out of season 2 unscathed. Meanwhile, the rest of them were at Battle Bladers. They all had to watch their friends get murdered by Ryuga or tortured by Reiji. Tsubasa was one of the people who had to battle Ryuga and came out of it infected with dark power, hurting himself and his friends. Meanwhile, Yu was manipulated and taken into the Dark Nebula and later kidnapped when he tried to leave. Don't even get me started on Gingka. I HATE hearing these know it all Garcias talk about how bad they've had it compared to the characters I've seen get traumatized for the past 70+ episodes at that point. It makes me not give a shit about their suffering because they're flaunting it and using it to excuse their frankly obnoxious and disgusting behaviour. Even Reiji, Jack, Damian, and Ryuga didn’t do that. Ryuga and Jack even admitted their mistakes later in the series with Ryuga especially taking actual steps to better himself. Meanwhile the Garcias stick to their bullshit philosophy to the end, even after it was proven wrong. They’re not any better in Fury either. They pretend to be fighting to manipulate Zeo and Toby to help them just to try and win a battle. It’s just frustrating to watch. Meanwhile, as individual characters, they still annoy the shit out of me. Enzo is an annoying brat that constantly repeats the same phrase over and over, which gets really annoying really fast, Selen's tactics make her battles against Masamune and Gingka frustrating to the point of boring, and Argo is an over the top borderline psycho, and not in a fun way. I don't have a specific reason to hate Ian but I don't really like him either so he gets lumped in with the rest of his siblings, since they all have similar attitudes. They also made Shogun Steel even more of a pain to watch.
2) Ryo Hagane
My reasons for this are mostly in Metal Fusion. He allows his teenage son to believe he's dead for reasons he claims are righteous, all while using this lie to justify hurting his son. Gingka's point counter being broken does drive him to take things seriously and push himself to fight harder to get into Battle Bladers. That is important to the plot and I won't deny that. But did it have to secretly be his dad who broke it? No. It could have been any random person, it could have been Tetsuya. Having his dad do it is an act of abuse, not to mention theft and property damage. I know no one gives a shit about the law in Beyblade but this is still messed up. I don't like the twist that Ryo lives but he does give Gingka semi-important information in the final episodes of Fusion and I might have been able to stomach this twist a little more if Ryo hadn't broke Gingka's point counter. That was a step way too far for me. I still wouldn't have liked Ryo though because allowing his teenage son to think he was dead is still messed up. He's also a terrible director. It frustrated me so much to see him force the Japanese and African teams to battle despite nearly all of them not being well enough to battle because they don't want to "show favouritism." How the fuck is it showing favouritism?! You shouldn't be making any teams fight when they're injured! It's not "showing favouritism" it's common decency. Gingka and Kyoya shouldn't have been allowed to battle when they were in such poor condition and Ryo was being both a bad director and a bad father by forcing them to battle. It seems like a small thing but it makes me hate Ryo even more than I already did. In short, Ryuga was right: "l always knew that your old man and his bey were second rate."
1) Rago
He killed Ryuga. That's it. What, you wanted an essay? Do I really need another reason? Well, he's also a one note villain without any traits to make him stand out among the other power-hungry villains of the series. He could have been replaced by a robot and his impact on the plot would have been the exact same. He's as boring and lifeless as a plank of wood. People say the new characters in Fury are boring. In this one case, I agree. This series has no excuse. Ryuga in season 1 was an excellent nuanced villain even though he and Rago's motivations were technically the same: power. Ryuga however had charm, he was scary, his greed for power began to physically control him by the end, giving us a hint of depth to a previously one note psycho. Doji was effective through his plans and presence in season 1, even Ziggurat had more to him than this "Rago" bitch. Ziggurat had an interesting plan and brainwashed children, Rago is just nothing. He does nothing interesting or memorable and the only reason I remember his name at all is because the one memorable thing he did was murder Ryuga. That alone wouldn't be enough to justify saying he's the worst character in the series but the fact that he's also a lazily written villain seals the deal for me.
Okay, there’s my list. Again, I like way more characters than I dislike and if you like any of these characters, that’s fine. I know for a fact Masamune, Johannes, and the Garcias have fans and while I don’t really understand why in the case of those last two, I can respect that opinion.
#beyblade#beyblade metal fight#beyblade metal saga#masamune kadoya#johannes beyblade#oh god time to tag every garcia#enzo garcia#selen garcia#ian garcia#argo garcia#ryo hagane#rago beyblade#nemesis beyblade#first time I watched Fury I thought Rago's name was Nemesis#he was just that forgettable#now I remember him as the murderer of my favourite character#and I hate boring villains so... yeah#rago kind of reminds me of thanos#both monologue non-stop and killed my favourite characters in their series#at least Rago's plan wasn't as stupid as Thanos's#and Ryuga's death actually meant something to the story#and made sense with his character#still my list my rules
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