#they are really way too tame... i worry about them being hurt by the glass so there might need to be anti-crash stickers there soon | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

facefullofsadness · 4 months

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Can I request sub!Sakura x soft!dom!reader? Basically fluff smut (-_-")

sakura unnie being just the submissive bby girl she truly is 🥰

content - loser gamer!sakura (bc she literally is just a loser who happens to be an idol u can't change my mind), smut (cunnilingus, corruption kink kinda but not really inflicted, reader is a lil intoxicated), fluff (I guess? like kinda?)

wc - 2148 (might've gotten carried away...)

sakura is a sensitive girlie.

and this doesn't just apply to in bed but in real life too. when you first met her, she was so shy and jumpy. seeing her at a pc café with the cat ear headphones she brought from home, wearing glasses, gray sweatpants, and a graphic tee way too oversized for her small body.

going up to her because u recognized her from your biochem class, asking if she did the homework yet.

"oh uh, hi, you know my name? uhm, sorry I'm a mess. wait a second, sorry," kura would stumble over her words, balancing her focus between the pretty girl talking to her and the intense league match she had going on.

sigh, how fucking adorable.

the way you grazed her shoulder with the tips of your fingers as you *intently* watched as she tried not to feed the enemy team (failing by the way). your focus was more on the way sakura's body tensed at the gentle contact.

it flicked a switch in your brain watching her bite down hard on her lip, trying so hard not to break in front of you. this only whirred you on, needing to see her desperate. and so you made it your goal to make this girl yours, in every way.

wooing her (easily bc pretty girl) into becoming your girlfriend, making her feel so loved and special, making her feel like you were the only person in the world for her. yes of course you loved her truly, but the switch that was on in your head always shone a light so bright that reminded you of how obsessed you were with the submissive aspects of this girl.

starting tame in your relationship, holding hands, cupping her cheeks and rubbing your thumbs against them, planting soft and gentle kisses on her, giving her sweet cuddles. it would eventually progress into brushing fingers against her sensitive waist, hearing as kura would release shaky breaths at the contact, deep and passionate makeout sessions where she would be breathless and sweaty under you, kissing and leaving dark marks on her neck and across her chest which would have her whining, trying to push you away because god how embarrassing it felt to be so small against you.

seeing her face so flushed pink and eyes dazed after an intimate moment drove you insane. you absolutely just needed to see more. and so when the first time you guys had sex, you had to remind yourself not to take it too far. after all, she's still your lovely sweet loser girlfriend who wouldn't hurt a fly (mostly because she's probably too scared of it).

and by sex, I mean eating out your precious girlfriend while she was gaming. you had gotten a little tipsy that night, drinking by yourself in the living room, dragging your body into kura's bedroom where she was focused in on a match of overwatch. too buzzed to act interested in her game, you pull yourself onto her lap and nestled your face into her neck.

you smiled against her skin as you felt the girl's breath hitch at the sudden gesture, your hot breath hitting her sensitive spot.

"y/n baby, I'm k-kinda busy right n-now..." she'd stutter, losing focus.

you shush her, planting wet kisses against her jaw and neck, "keep playing kura, don't worry about me. just focus."

the cogs in your brain speed and your heartbeat races with the corruptive thoughts running through your head. you feel yourself heat up at the need to feel her fall apart against you, shaking in your hold. hearing her shaky voice make callouts to her teammates over comms, your greedy hands brushing her sides and trailing her abdomen, mouth leaving wet spots across her exposed collarbone.

you moan against her skin, her body so tense when you touch her, exciting you more than you think is possible. though you wanted to be patient and gentle with her when it comes to intimate moments like this, in your drunken state, it was hard to think straight. and so it slips your mind when your hands trail up to cusp her tits, thumbs rubbing her hard nipples in circles.

your brain short circuits when you hear her whimper right against your ear, kissing her on the cheek and grinding down against her core. you push one of the headphone muffs back, whispering in her ear.

"do you like that baby, like when I touch your naughty little body like this? like when I grind against your aching pussy like that?" you rasp breathily, biting the lobe of her ear and chuckling lowly.

one of her hands fly off of the keyboard and quickly mute her mic, bringing her hand to tangle her fingers with your hair.

"ahhh fuck, y/n-ie, I'm.. that feels so.. ahh," sakura can't contain the moans slipping out of her mouth easily as your grinding continues and your fingers pinch at her hardened buds.

you pull your face away from her heaving chest and bring your lips to grace her own lips, "baby, why'd you stop playing? be a good girl and win for me."

how evil, sakura must be thinking in that little head of hers, clouded with lust.

she whines needily against your lips and you kiss her sweetly in response, "c'mon baby, I'll reward you if you listen to me."

and so she gulps and nods, leaning forward against you before unmuting and returning back to the game. hm, how easy it is to control you my love, you think sinisterly.

pulling ur hands away and getting off of her, looking up at her darting eyes, full of nervousness and excitement, you smirk at the sight. you bring your hands up to the waistband of her sweats, untying the knot and slowly pulling them down.

your eyebrows raise when you see how dark her panties have gotten, wet and practically soaked with arousal.

"you DO like this baby, don't you? looks like a little too much, what do you think?" you bite your lip as you drag a single finger across the whole length of her slit, feeling how damp her underwear truly is.

she whimpers uncontrollably above you, clamping her eyes shut and throwing her head back against the headrest, trying so hard to hold back. you just know her hands are gripped tightly into fists as you press your thumb firmly against her clit through the cloth.

"guys please, we're so close," sakura begs her teammates to wrap up the game, almost a double entendre to your ears.

you look up at her sweetly and innocently, "or take your time my love, I can wait."

she peers down to look at you and frowns, eyes welling up and face scrunched with pleasure. aww, my poor baby, she wants you to stop teasing so bad and just let her fucking cum.

you hook your fingers around her panties and pull them down to pool at her ankles with her sweatpants. you pull her to the edge of her gamer chair by her thighs, your strong grip pushing apart her legs.

"you'll get what you need so bad when you win," god you're so mean :(((

she's aching so bad, the way you can physically see her hole clench around nothing, just by your words and the sheer amount of arousal that courses through her. you can't just let her go untouched, so when you throw her panties and sweats off of her ankles and to the side, lifting her legs to rest on top of your shoulders, hearing her squeal at the movement, and hotly breathe out onto her core, you go dizzy. you swear you're probably much more fucking soaked in your underwear than she is by how turned on you were by the effects you had on her.

none of that mattered right now though, all that did matter and the only thing you focused on was sakura. your precious sakura and her leaking hole. you couldn't resist anymore, diving in and sucking her entrance directly, using your tongue to lap at all the juices that she produced messily all over her pussy.

"fuck y/n!" she moaned, not caring about the game and throwing an arm over her face, hiding behind it.

"shhh, play," you'd mumble against her, flicking your wet muscle on her bundle of nerves.

"I-I can't baby..." kura whined, hearing her start to sob.

no no, couldn't have your baby suffer now could you?

"you can do it, go kura, make me proud," you'd caress her legs sweetly, moving away from her center and kissing her trembling thighs.

"we.. I'm almost, d-done," she shakily said.

at that moment, you heard cheering explode from her headphones, sakura throwing them off and muting her mic.

her hands would fly to gripping one of your hands around her thighs and your hair, "y/n, please please please, god please it hurts so bad."

looking up at her pained and desperate expression, you smiled again, "don't worry, I'll give you your reward my good girl."

diving in greedily finally, thrusting your tongue into her hole, making the most graphic wet noises from your needy mouth and her leaking pussy. the girl above you uncontrollably moaning out your name, gripping your hand and hair tightly, it hurt.

it didn't matter to you as the juice on your tongue was so delicious, the whines filling your ears sounded like music, and the body you held was trembling with pleasure. you closed your eyes as you dug your wet muscle into her and brushed your nose against her clit.

"baby ahh! fuck fuck fuck, yes yes, please don't stop, please god, it feels sosososo good y/n, I beg you, your mouth is insane," sakura would ramble mindlessly.

you listened, being crazily pussy drunk, not being able to breathe but not caring, borderline deep throating her pussy with how deep you dug your face into her. being so horny yourself, grinding against the air and panting into her. your fingers gripped painfully against her thighs, forgetting your entire plan to treat her caringly.

not that sakura seemed to mind, her head was thrown back and mouth hung wide open, eyes rolled back and screaming out profanities with your name. her hand in your hair pushed you deeper into her, grinding her hips desperately against you.

you loosened your grip slightly to let her fuck your face. you wanted to see her lose control because of you badly, so you opened your eyes to look up at her, and you swear you could cum on the spot just by how sinful the sight was. you moaned deeply into her pussy, the vibrations making sakura go insane, her body started to thrash and jolt, humping your face even more.

you slurped hungrily at her, losing any thoughts of technique and simply eating her out how you needed to. after all, kura doesn't care and grinds against your face rabidly, everything feels too fucking good to think.

"CUMMING, CUMMING!" she'd scream out, grip on you tightening even more.

"cum for me," you try mumbling as much as you could, airways practically blocked with her pussy.

sakura's body convulses, shaking with a screaming orgasm, juices squirting from her and drenching your face, chest, and clothes. you almost drown at the contact, but drink all the arousal that escapes.

her body stops violently jolting, only jerking every now and then from the aftershocks of the mindblowing climax she just came from. you release your tight grip as she does also, caressing her thighs softly, and kissing all over her sensitive core and legs. poor baby is completely gone, dazed and exhausted. you pull away from her pussy but make your way up to her face, never fully ripping away from her.

cupping her face and looking at her spent figure. chest raising and falling, mouth open, drool leaking out, cheeks stained with tears, body limp, thighs marked red, neck littered with hickies, her eyes half-lidded, and mumbling.

"y/n-ie, I'm can't," you giggle at how fucked out she is.

the throbbing at your core hurts honestly, but you ignore it, carrying your baby girl off of the chair and onto her bed. your clothes were soaked with her juices, looking back at her desk and seeing remnants of it there too. you'd clean it later, what matters is taking care of your girlfriend now.

"you did so well baby, you can rest," you'd whisper comfortingly in her ear, kissing her lips softly.

"do you want me to get you water? I can run the bath for you?" you offer, rubbing your hands sweetly over her red thighs.

"no, need you here," she'd say, pulling you into a cuddle, passing out on the spot.

you smile and place a peck on sakura's forehead, "okay."

need her so bad...

#ffos reqs #sakura #miyawaki sakura #le sserafim #le sserafim fanfic #le sserafim x reader #le sserafim smut #fanfiction #kpop #kpop gg #sakura smut #girl group smut #chaewon #yunjin #kazuha #eunchae

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yxami · 1 year

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AAAAAAA the cow boy was so well made and adorable thank you very much!! I loved the little informations you dropped along the way regarding other farms, it made everything feel more alive!

If that’s alright can I make one more request? A yandere nerd with a fem reader, maybe reader saved the poor guy from some bullies and now he just keeps running after her like some lost puppy :( And at times he doesn’t have the courage for it he just spends all his time watching her from afar.

Maybe he’s a bit delusional as well and already imagined everything all the way to their wedding.

Also I feel like I’ll be active here quite a bit so can I be the 🌸 anon? So that it’ll be easier for me to find the stuff I requested

Thank you for requesting 🌸 anon, you’re my first named regular! Also, don’t be shy request more if you’d like. I like your ideas and it’s fun to bring them to life for you! I’m glad you like how I write them! I added the tag on your other request too!

description: yandere nerd, female reader, soft yandere, stalking, watching reader, he’s pretty tame, just a cute lil guy who wants to be your husband.

You heard voices down at the bottom of the stairs. You sighed assuming it was stupid couples getting handsy like always. There was never any announcements about it so couples got away with it, pretty often.

You were about to walk away until you heard clear voices that all sounded male. Way more than just two, that was weird. You got closer and heard a rather aggressive voice.

“Did you fucking purposely write the wrong answers so I’d copy?? You’re stupid as hell if you thought I wouldn’t find out afterwards!”

“I’m not letting you cheat off of me anymore! I’m gonna get in trouble and it’s wrong to cheat!” A soft male voice argued back with the agitated voice.

“Tch, we’ll see what you have to say after I beat the fucking life out of you. Grab his arms so he doesn’t move” The obvious attacker was about to beat him up, even telling his friends to hold him down.

“Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing??” You ran down the stairs and confronted the group of three boys who were teaming up on one.

“Who the hell are you?” What you assumed was the leader turned around and gave you the meanest glare you’ve ever seen directed towards you before.

“Leave before I fucking tell the principal you’re causin’ trouble again” You knew he had run into trouble enough that the next big punishment was sure to get him expelled. You used that your advantage despite it still being risky to confront such a intimidating group.

“Fucking snitch, Cmon, let’s go. This chick obviously doesn’t have a life” He made an annoyed hiss, obviously pissed off that someone had ruined his revenge beating.

They cleared the area and now the guy sat against the wall was safe. You were glad you were there before he got hurt. You had no clue that bullying was actually going on in the school. You had never seen it before so you never thought it happened.

“Hey, are you okay?” You offered your hand towards the poor guy, hoping he didn’t get hurt before you stepped in.

“Y..yeah! Thank you..” He grabbed your hand and you helped him up. He looked a little familiar but you didn’t know who he was. Maybe he was in one of your classes.

“What was that all about anyways? Those guys were about to beat you up over some test answers? Geez, people are really fucked up now, huh?” You noticed he had red cheeks and you quickly worried.

Did they hit him before you interrupted? Was he okay?

“Are you okay? Your face is red! Did they hit you anywhere?” You cupped his face with both of your hands and moving his glasses on top of his head to scan all of his face. His face only seemed to reddened even more!

“I- I’m okay! They didn’t hit me!“ He rambled on about his perfect health, he was so flustered!! Your face was so close and he could hardly breathe. He had never been so close to a girl before! Especially not one as gorgeous and brave like you!

“Oh, good. If they ever bother you again, tell me! I’ll snitch on those fuckers. I don’t care if people bitch about it” You sighed in relief that he was okay and stepped back. He placed his glasses back on, his vision becoming clearer.

“Thank you.. You’re really brave! For standing up to them.. I mean I couldn’t do that” He laughed his cowardly trait off even thought he was a little embarrassed.

“It’s understandable though, three on one is not fair. It just shows how weak they are. What’s your name anyways, you look familiar” You smiled at him, happy that he was okay and laughing.

“My name is Kyosuke, I’m really happy that you stood up for me. I hope we can be friends!” He bowed and looked up with the cutest smile you’ve ever seen! He was adorable!

You shared your name and complimented his. You had to go though, the bell rung as soon as the words left your mouth. The both of you departed ways after exchanging your goodbyes and left to class.

You were happy you go to do something nice for someone. It was always a nice feeling to help a person in a dire situation. You were hoping you could see him again and become friends like he said!

You had no clue that he planned the same! Even going as far to follow you to all your clases; the next day, hidden in the crowds of students to see what your schedule was. He found out he had his last class with you, he knew you looked familiar!

You were across the room though, which made him a little sad. Maybe he’d could ask the teacher to move him next to you or ask for a new seating chart. He blushed at the thought of seeing you at the end of the day sitting next to him! It made him so giddy to even think about it!

The bell rang throughout the school and you picked up your bag to start heading home. You never had anything to do after-school. Clubs weren’t your thing but the ocasional stop to the gas station was fun.

Kyosuke wanted to approach you, so badly but he was too nervous to calm down his sudden feelings about you. Maybe tomorrow he would approach you and ask if you wanted to eat lunch together? He blushed imagining how eating lunch with you would be so intimate. Sitting next to each other, sharing food, like a couple!

You left the classroom hastily like everyone else, making it outside of school. You always walked home since your house wasn’t too far. You had no clue that your admirer tagged along as well.

You never assumed someone would be so infatuated with you, let alone follow you home. He managed to go undetected and closely watch you. He remembered every turn you did, every road you crossed, everything. He wanted to remember the path so he could follow you safely home everyday. It was good you didn’t live far away!

You threw your book-bag on your couch and went into the kitchen to go find a snack. You rummaged around, unaware of Kyosuke following you to your home. He was going to leave! He swore! But he really wanted to see what you did after-school.

He was just so interested about you now. He wanted to know everything just incase it would help him approach you easier. Maybe you liked a game and he could talk to you about it? Or a hobby!

He peeked through your kitchen window, covered in leaves from the bushes that surrounded your house. He moved some branches to clearly see you making yourself something to eat.

He pondered whether you liked to cook or not, maybe you’d like it if he made you something? You didn’t seem like a cooking person since he didn’t see any ingredients or spices around on your counters. Maybe you’d love a homemade lunch for him! As if he was your boyfriend!

The next day came by and you shut your locker, grabbing the lunch you brought for school today. You weren’t up for school lunch so you made yourself some food! It was rice with eggs and some fruit, pretty plain but still delicious.

You bumped into a familiar face, thinking it was one of your friends; you were quick to help the person up. It was Kyosuke though! The cute little nerd you helped yesterday.

“Hey Kyo! Sorry, I didn’t see you there” You smiled, still carefully holding your bag and lunch. You thought he was pretty adorable, you had never seen him before but you were glad you were able to help him.

“Hello! I was actually trying to see you today, I wanted to properly thank you for helping me. So.. I made you lunch!” He shyly brought out a container filled with delicious looking food, much more delicious then the food you had in your hands. He was too distracted with giving you the lunch to realize the nickname you gave him.

“Oh! I already made myself lunch though” You were caught by surprised that he still remembered who you were. You didn’t think you made a big impression other than someone who helped him out.

“Ah… never-mind then! I didn’t realize you made your own lunch” His smile hastily pulled into frown now seeing that you wouldn’t eat the homemade lunch he spent so long making for you. He got up super early to make sure it would be perfect.

“I was planning to sit outside since the weather is nice, why don’t we go share our lunches?” You were quick to comfort his sadness. His frown made you feel so guilty! It was almost like upsetting a poor puppy.

“Okay!” Kyosuke nodded happily. His plan was to give you the homemade lunch and hope you would ask for more so then he would be cooking for you everyday! But eating lunch with you was good too!

The two of you made your way to the courtyard of the school, the weather was nice, and the trees had perfect shade to sit under. Sure, you could sit on a bench but wouldn’t it be better to sit under a tree on the soft grass?

You opened up your container of food, the food seeming much more bland next to the well cooked food that he opened up.

“Try it! I was really excited to make this for you. I woke up early in the morning” He giggled pulling out silverware for you to use while you ate. You grabbed it and placed your container on your lap so it wouldn’t fall while you tried his food.

You grabbed a spoonful and the flavors melted into your mouth, your eyes lit up and letting out a excited noise of surprise at the taste. You mumbled your gratitude with a mouthful of the dish. He grinned while tilting his head; not understanding. He found it funny though. Once he got that you were saying thank you he insisted it was no problem.

“Can I have some of yours? It looks good too” He pointed to your untouched food. You nodded scooping more food into your mouth that he gave you. You grabbed the container with your free hand and handed it to him.

Kyosuke ate some of the rice and eggs and enjoyed it. You thought for sure he wouldn’t enjoy it as much as your cooking, from the taste of his food it seemed like he was a Michelin star chef. He could argue the opposite though.

Eating out of your lunch box, it felt like the two of you were close! He couldn’t help but gush over the fact that he was eating your cooking! Cooking that was intended for yourself but you graciously gave to him. You were so nice he couldn’t help but fall for you.

When the two of you get married, he could pack lunch everyday for you. He could be your husband who stays at home, keeping the house tidy and clean for his beautiful wife. The perfect balance in a relationship.

That would be his major plan after this! To have you as his wife, and keep you happy and full with his cooking. Maybe even have a kid or two if you wanted! He tried hiding his blush at his imagination running wild.

“Your cooking is good! If I knew you were such a good cook I would have you make me lunches everyday” You beamed, now able to talk without a mouthful of food.

“I could if you’d like to! I always have extra food that I just put in the fridge, so maybe… I could cook for you everyday” He shyly offered, he knew you weren’t being serious but maybe you’d accept his offer? He never cooked for anyone else other than himself but to make food for you everyday.. that would be amazing! It was exactly how he planned!

“I was joking! But if you’re offering I’d love to eat the extra food you have” You looked at him, excited hearing his words.

“Yay! What would you like me to cook next!” Kyosuke got giddy thinking of the ability to please you everyday with one of his best skills! He never knew cooking would bring him closer to a beautiful girl like you.

“Hmm.. how about sushi!” The thought of sushi for lunch would be amazing, your stomach practically craved it now that you thought about it.

“I can do that!” He was excited and would definitely go shopping after-school to get the ingredients for it.

The two of you ate under the beautiful tree that flowed when the wind guided it a certain direction. It was a nice afternoon, to be sharing lunches with a lover friend!

#yandere #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #male yandere #pls request #gn reader #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #fem reader #female reader #make yan #nerd yandere #nerd yan #yan nerd #soft yandere #yandere soft #🌸 anon #kyosukemyoc

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brighteststar707 · 1 year

Text

Glasses II

Me talking about Saeyoung’s glasses again because Cheritz doesn’t appreciate them enough he has been missing them a lot lately.

This draft has been sitting in its folder since the masquerade opening screen came out. Realistically, I know him not having glasses in most CGs is an artistic choice, but of course I found a reason to make it a character quirk.

The mirror in Saeyoung’s walk-in wardrobe is the biggest in the house, which is why you’ve both decided to squish yourselves in there tonight. You’re both all dressed up for the RFA party, all that’s left are the finishing touches.

Saeyoung stands in front of the mirror, running a comb through his hair for the third time. He knows his efforts are futile, and that the parting will disappear partway through the night, but he’s not going to let it dissuade him. Meanwhile, you’re bustling around the room, looking for the finishing touches to your outfit in the mess of clothes and accessories. He watches you through the reflection, his little whirlwind, and smiles when you finally find what you were looking for and let out a small aha!

You slip on your shoes and join him at the mirror, bumping him with your hip to make room for you.

“Shuffle up, you’re hogging the mirror.”

“I’m just making sure that I look my best for tonight! My hair is staging a rebellion and I’m losing!”

“You’re missing some. Here, let me try.”

He hands you the comb, turns to face you and you help him even out the parting.

He likes to think that he doesn’t get flustered quickly around you anymore, but this small action makes him blush. He loves being spoiled by you.

“There! I think we’ve tamed it.” You turn back to the mirror and take in his full outfit.

He’s pretty sure he’s outdone himself this time. He hasn’t had many chances since knowing you to dress up this nicely, so he put in extra effort just for today. He went shopping with Zen a few weeks ago and found a heavy red and white jacket that he was sure would be a perfect fit.

“You look wonderful, Saeyoung. Except… what is that?” The smooth lines of his silhouette are interrupted by something half-stuffed in his pocket.

“Oh… that’s the box for my glasses.”

“Why do you need a box for your glasses? Are you bringing more than one pair?”

“No, I’ll just be taking these off once we arrive at the party.” He demonstrates by whipping off his glasses and flashing you a smile. “Tada! Saeyoung’s beauty has increased by one hundred percent!”

Your reflection in the mirror is much blurrier than it was a minute ago, but he’s pretty sure you’re not smiling back at him.

“Saeyoung, you can’t see very far without them. How are you going to enjoy the party when you can’t even see anybody’s face?”

“Beauty is worth struggling for! Don’t worry though babe, I’ll always be able to spot you in a crowd, no matter how bad my vision might be!”

Even that comment doesn’t lighten your mood. Your blurry face still looks sad.

“You’ve said that before. About looking better without your glasses, I mean. Do you really take them off for events?”

“For most of the parties and other events where we have to look… presentable. It doesn’t make me look like Zen or anything, but it’s an improvement.” Sure, it was uncomfortable, but he had managed to get by in the past. He’d mostly use Yoosung as his guide to help him recognize people and would put them back on before his eyes hurt too bad. It was all worth it in his mind to feel pretty for one night.

You sigh, take the glasses from his hands and sternly put them back on him. As your face comes back into focus, he notices your expression has gone from sad to a sort of stubborn determined look you often get when he talks negatively about himself.

“I know what I say can’t change your mind or the way you think, but I think you’re very pretty, with or without your glasses. You shouldn’t have to struggle on a night like this.”

You brush away a strand of hair on the wrong side of the parting and your expression softens slightly.

“- also, after all the work I put into decorating, you had better appreciate it to the best of your abilities,” you add with a smirk.

He throws his arms around you and squeezes you close to him.

“How can I possibly miss out on my babe’s work? I’ll make sure to appreciate every last detail in there tonight!” He doesn’t say the rest out loud, but you know him well enough to know that under all his exuberance, he holds onto your small reassurances and compliments like they’re gold.

“Just wait until the others see us, they won’t know what hit them,” he says, admiring your outfits in the mirror. You’re dressed in all black, with slight hints of red, which he’s thrilled about. He already knows that you’re going to be the center of attention tonight, and he can’t wait to see what everyone else has to say. As much as you love giving him compliments and reminding him of his worth, he loves to see you get the recognition that you deserve. There’s only so many times he can tell you just how showstopping you look (not that it dissuades him from showering you in compliments).

“That being said, I think we’re ready, don’t you?”

You agree, and you wiggle out of his arms so you can leave the wardrobe, all the while stepping over all your discarded clothes and accessories.

Before he follows, Saeyoung takes out the box from his pocket and puts it back where it belongs. With one last look towards the mirror, he straightens out his glasses and feels a warmth spreading through his chest.

He plans to enjoy tonight to its fullest potential.

#mystic messenger #mystic messenger saeyoung #mystic messenger saeyoung choi #mystic messenger seven #mystic messenger 707 #mystic messenger luciel #mystic messenger luciel choi #mysme saeyoung #mysme saeyoung choi #mysme seven #mysme 707 #mysme luciel choi #mysme luciel #saeyoung choi #707 #luciel choi #my writing

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seijorhi · 3 years

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insidious

Hinata Shoyo x female reader (+ Miya Atsumu x female reader)

tw dub-con/non-con, yandere, voyeurism, nsfw, smut but like just a sprinkle

Atsumu’s never considered himself much of a relationship guru, but surely he can’t be the only one who notices there’s something real fuckin’ weird about your relationship with Hinata.

Admittedly, the first few times he met you, he wasn’t paying all that much attention. Sure, you were hot, and he’d be a liar if he said he hadn’t snuck a peek every now and then; but his focus has always been on the game, on his teammates. On himself as a setter. It’s why he’s got a strict no girlfriends policy during the season. Atsumu doesn’t do distractions.

And he likes Hinata. On the court, the little dude’s a monster for him to unleash and he’d love him for that alone, but somehow despite being a 5’7” excitable ball of crazy intensity off the court as well, the redhead’s impossible not to get along with.

There’s a few guys on the team that have partners – fuck, Meian’s even married, his wife five months pregnant with their second kid. But it doesn’t hit him until maybe three or so weeks after Hinata joins the team that he’s never seen any of them (or the ones that came before them) show up at every single training session.

You do.

Rain, hail or shine, no matter how early Hinata starts or how late he stays, you’re there, sitting in the stands, just… watching. It’s not a bad thing exactly. He knows Bo thinks it’s cute, gets all moony eyed and sappy about it and Hinata certainly doesn’t seem bothered by it, beaming up at you after every point scored, every successful spike, every receive.

But it’s just– they train six days a week. It’s long hours and a lot of it’s just drills and exercising till they’re dead on the floor, and even hardcore volleyball fans would find it boring to sit through day in and day out. You don’t take a book or sit there on your phone; you just watch idly as they train.

Day in, day out.

There ain’t a rule against it; their practices are closed to the public but the team have a few passes they can hand around on the odd occasion. It’s more of an unspoken understanding; you can invite who you want, so long as you’re focused and they don’t make a fuss.

You never do though, quiet as a mouse as you wait for Hinata to finish up.

“Don’tcha think it’s weird though?” he asks Sakusa one afternoon, wiping the sweat from his brow as he watches Hinata slump down beside you after practice wraps up, pulling you into a nuzzling embrace.

Sakusa makes a noncommittal noise, but dark eyes regard the two of you nonetheless. “She moved with him from Brazil, didn’t she?”

Atsumu shrugs, “And?”

“She doesn’t have any friends or family here, no roots, no job, just Hinata,” he says – slowly, like Atsumu’s an idiot.

And he tries to put himself in your shoes for a minute, imagine what it would be like to follow someone halfway across the world (further actually, because he’s pretty sure you weren’t from Brazil to begin with) but it’s not the same. Even without Samu, or his friends or his family, even in a country with weird customs and a language that wasn’t his own, Atsumu’s always been good at finding his feet.

But he supposes he can understand why you cling to Hinata. Though it’s really more a case of Hinata clinging to you, ‘cause whenever he turns around, it’s the redhead who’s the one all over you, pulling you into cuddles, twining his fingers with yours, peppering your face with butterfly kisses. Like he’ll just die if he’s not touching you every second you’re together.

It’s either sickeningly cute or revoltingly excessive, and for the life of him Atsumu can’t figure out which.

You’d think it’s his first relationship or something, that he’s stuck in some weird puppy love honeymoon phase, but from what he’s heard the two of you have been together for years now – that’s just the way Hinata is, apparently.

He shouldn’t be too surprised; the guy’s always first in line to jump on his back or try and tackle him to the floor after any successful play. Between him and Bokuto, he’s got more bruises littered over his body than a linebacker, but they’re a tactile team, and he usually gives as good as he gets.

You’re not one for excessive PDA though. You never fight against the overbearing affection, don’t shrug it off or shrink away – at least, not from what he’s noticed – but Atsumu hasn’t seen you initiate anything more than a quick peck to his cheek when Hinata’s got you all bundled up in his arms.

And he gets that not every relationship has to be equal in that sense, different love languages and all that crap, but while you don’t fight it, you never seem… entirely comfortable with it either. Not in the ‘stop, we’re in public, please don’t’ kinda way, but–

He can’t put a finger on it.

You smile at Hinata, cheer when he scores, let him pet and kiss and pull you around wherever he wants, but you never seem to relax properly, and it bothers him. He doesn’t know why it bothers him.

If he hadn’t met you, hadn’t known that you’d been with Hinata since he was dirt poor and moonlighting as a delivery boy in Brazil, he’d be tempted to think that you were only in it for the money. It’s not a bad plan, as far as these things go – find some up and coming athlete to place all your bets on, get him wrapped around your finger before success goes to his head. And he doesn’t know you all that well and has absolutely zero fucking justification to back it up, but you don’t strike him as the money hungry type.

You don’t strike him as anything, and maybe that’s part of the issue.

Hinata’s like a sun; he’s gonna eclipse anyone standing too close. That’s normal. The team; him and Sakusa, Bokuto, the others – they have their own talents to stand on, to push through and shine on their own, but you…

Fuck, why does it even matter?

Why does it bother him? It ain’t his relationship. You never complain, you make Hinata happy – he’d have to be blind not to see how much that guy loves you – and he dotes on you, spoils the shit out of you, so why can’t he shake this feeling in his gut that something ain’t right there?

It ain’t his relationship, and Atsumu’s not stupid enough to stick his nose where it doesn’t belong.

It ain’t his relationship.

It’s not, and he has more important things to focus his time and energy on.

You aren’t his problem. Fuck, you’ve barely spoken more than a few sentences to him! There’s no reason for why he can’t get you and your stupid relationship with his wing spiker outta his mind.

“Just admit ya wanna fuck her and stop bitchin’ about it,” Samu groans one night when Atsumu stops by the restaurant after training. “Yer looking for a problem between the two of them so ya don’t feel guilty about it.”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, “Shut yer trap, wouldja, Samu? I said it ain’t like that!”

He’s not gonna stand there and deny that he thinks you’re hot, but that’s not what this is about. Never has been.

It’s quiet between them for a moment, Atsumu angrily stabbing at the onigiri on his plate, but he feels it when Osamu looks at him. Really looks, dark eyes flickering across his face, reading him like an open book. Samu might enjoy giving him shit and winding him up just for the sake of it, but there’s nobody on earth who knows him better.

Eventually he sighs, and the air feels different between them. Heavier, somehow. “What’re ya saying, Tsumu? Ya think Hinata’s hurting her or somethin’?”

Yes.

No.

He knows Hinata. Well, for a few months at least, but peripherally for years. Ever since high school. And Atsumu’s had the displeasure of knowing guys like that, guys who liked to feel big and tough and strong and would gladly slap around some pretty thing just to feel all manly and shit, and Hinata’s not–

He doesn’t treat you like you’re made of glass or anything, but every time he touches you, so much as looks at you with those bright eyes, it’s with this kind of intense, burning love that Atsumu just doesn’t understand, that honestly freaks him out a little. He’s never seen bruises littering your skin – at least, not the kind that Samu’s worried about. You don’t flinch away from Hinata’s touch.

(You never look comfortable though. Never happy – not like Hinata is.)

No. He’s a good guy, he wouldn’t hurt a fly, and despite the lingering unease Atsumu has about the two of you, he doesn’t doubt for a second that Hinata is head over fucking heels in love with you. He wouldn’t hurt you.

He wouldn’t.

“No, ‘course not! I just…” he breaks off, shaking his head. And he chews on his lip for a moment, debating with himself whether he should actually admit what he’s been thinking the past few weeks or whether Samu’s just gonna call him a pussy or something and tell him to knock it off. “I get the feeling she doesn’t wanna be there. She’s smiling and sitting there all pretty, but it’s just… I dunno, it’s just weird.”

Osamu doesn’t say much after that, but he doesn’t really need to. He knows what his brother’s thinking. If you weren’t happy, you’d leave. If Hinata wasn’t treating you right, you’d leave. You’d tell someone. But it ain’t that simple, is it?

Atsumu’s always had a problem sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong.

The first game of the season’s a slam dunk, and while they’re usually pretty tame during the season, beating Kageyama and Ushijima, last year's undefeated champs is cause for celebration. He’s not surprised to see you there at the club, tucked under Hinata’s arm in some little black dress, all dolled up. You smile at him, a hollow, fleeting thing, and Atsumu hates how the sight of it makes his stomach clench.

Sakusa, Bokuto and Inunaki arrive moments later, a drink’s shoved into his hands and he forces himself to think of other things. You aren’t his problem, you aren’t his girl, and he’s definitely not watching you dance, your back flush with Hinata’s front, the wing spiker’s hands splayed across your hips, his mouth trailing greedily along your neck.

And for the first time since this whole stupid thing started, Atsumu recognises the ugly feeling stirring in the pit of his gut. It’s jealousy.

He’s played one of the best games of his life today, his team’s fucking amazing, the music’s good and the alcohol is free flowing – he should be happy. And there’s absolutely no reason he should be watching you out of the corner of his eye, waiting for an opening.

It shouldn’t make his heart skip a beat when Hinata leans down to whisper something in your ear, passing you his glass as he heads off to find the men’s. He’s midway through a conversation of his own with Adriah and Bokuto that he’s barely paying attention to, and there’s a voice in his head (one that sounds suspiciously like Samu’s) that tells him to just let it go, but his feet are already moving, a half hearted excuse spilling from his lips as he slips past them both to make his way over to you.

“Hey,” he says. His voice is too quiet, too breathless to carry across over the music, but he’s taller than you, taking up your space and he isn’t imagining the way that your eyes widen, a flicker of something passing your face before you school your features back into that same fake, pleasant smile.

He doesn’t imagine the nervous look you dart over his shoulder in the direction Hinata walked off in.

You take a delicate sip from your glass, the very same one you’ve been nursing since you arrived and he watches – watches – as you force yourself to relax, the tension easing from your shoulders, your posture softening. “Miya,” you greet, raising your voice just enough to be heard. “Congratulations on the win.”

It’s so polite, so fucking fake that it makes him wanna hurl.

“Atsumu,” he corrects before he can help himself. Sakusa calls him Miya, but nobody else – nobody who knows him – does. He can’t bear the sound of it on your lips, like you’re nothing more than strangers.

He’s talked to you before, right? Surely.

You’re just standing there, perfectly at ease around him and the others – if not for the finger tapping anxiously against the stem of your glass, a tic he wonders if you’re even aware of. You might be able to fool the others – admittedly, they’re probably not paying you too much attention – but he’s used to picking up on the smallest details.

And he’s become real good at reading you these past few weeks.

“So tell me, how’d the two of ya meet?” he asks instead, because he’s rushed in here with no game plan and it’s the first thing that comes to mind. He doesn’t even care about the answer; now that he’s finally here, finally has you to himself for a moment, he just wants to hear you talk.

“Oh, um,” you swallow, ducking your head so you’re not meeting his gaze anymore. “It’s a little embarrassing–”

A familiar, bright laugh cuts you off, and Atsumu’s heart hammers when Hinata slaps him on the shoulder, “It’s not embarrassing, babe, it’s cute!”

Deep brown eyes meet his; wide, glittering and freakishly intense and he fights the urge to recoil. He’s done nothing wrong, he knows that, but Hinata’s staring at him like every thought he’s ever had about you is written right across his face, plain as day.

And you – you look like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar, like Hinata’s stumbled on you shoving your tongue down his throat rather than just having an innocent, friendly conversation with his teammate. It’s a split second that stretches a lifetime, but when he dares to look over, you’re rigid, eyes wide and full of panic and he knows, he fucking knows that he’s right.

“Tell him,” Hinata urges, wasting no time in slipping past Atsumu to take his place by your side.

His arm wraps around your waist, squeezing you gently, and after a single, tense beat, you comply. “O-on the first week of my trip to Brazil, I was mugged. Shoyo saw it all happen and chased after them – got my purse back for me, even walked me back home to make sure I was okay, patched me up and everything.” You pause, nibbling on your bottom lip as you gaze up at Hinata, “He was my knight in shining armour.”

Hinata preens as you smile, but it’s still wrong. Atsumu’s seen what hero worship looks like, what real love looks like, and he’ll hand it to you; you have the basics down pat, but you can’t fake everything.

With bitterness and disgust eating away at his gut, it becomes suffocating, standing there trying to carry a conversation and pretending that whatever there is between the two of you is in any way fucking romantic–

It’s too much, like somebody has a grip on his lungs, viciously squeezing out the last of his breath, and he barely remembers to excuse himself before he’s shoving his way through the crowd, knocking Meian’s concerned hand away as he flees for the balcony.

The late summer night air’s warm and humid, but he gulps it down in big, gasping heaves, clinging to the rail like it’s a lifeline.

You’re fucking with his head and he hates it. He hates that he can’t let this go, can’t get you out of his goddamn head no matter how hard he tries. Atsumu’s always been a selfish, arrogant bastard, why should he give two shits about some girl whose last name he doesn’t even know?

He wants to despise you. He wants to forget you, to shove you aside like he has every other distraction in his life. It’s not his problem you’ve found yourself in some fucked up relationship.

But he squeezes his eyes shut, and all Atsumu can see is your face.

He stays out on that balcony until his body stops shaking, until the sweat on his forehead cools and he no longer feels like he’s gonna throw up. The beat of the music, spilling muted from the glass doors, wraps around him now that the pounding in his head’s subsided, tempting him back inside. Any other night, and he’d follow it, get absolutely shitfaced and party till he doesn’t remember his own name.

And as he stands there alone, staring up at the Tokyo city skyline, part of him almost wants to give in – to drink himself to oblivion. Because at least that’d be easier.

But he won’t.

Instead, Atsumu shoves his feelings down, musters up a lazy smirk and walks back inside. He has every intention of saying goodbye to at least a few of his teammates before heading back to the hotel room to crash, but as his eyes scan the crowded floor, he catches sight of something that stops him cold in his tracks.

Hinata has you pinned to the wall, his face buried in the crook of your neck, but that’s not what makes his heart skip a beat. It’s the way your dress is hiked up, your panties shoved to the side, Hinata’s hand between your thighs, fucking you on his fingers.

It’s the look on your face, screwed up in pleasure – or pain – biting down on your lip to stifle your cries. It wouldn’t make a difference. Nobody would be able to hear you over the music, and even if they could he doubts anyone would give a fuck.

His mouth dries out, every thought eddying from his head as he watches you cling to Hinata, your hands gripping his arms tight. Your makeup’s smudged, a tear spilling down your cheek catches the glittering lights of the club, but when your head tilts back he knows it’s a moan that leaves your lips. He can almost hear it, picture it in his mind. You’re shuddering, shaking your head even as your eyes are squeezed shut and the only sound Atsumu can hear is the restless thumping of his own heart.

And then your eyes flutter open and find his. He watches, frozen in place, transfixed in the worst possible way as mortification flashes across your features and your lips move–

Whatever you say to him, Hinata doesn’t stop. He just shifts a little, angles his body in a way that gives Atsumu a better view of your pussy and the attention he’s paying it. He can’t look away even if he desperately wants to, utterly enthralled by the slickness coating the digits, the way your thighs tremble and quake as those fingers curl inside of you, the little jolt you give when Hinata’s thumb rubs at your puffy clit.

Atsumu watches, equal parts horrified and mesmerised as he pushes you over the edge and you cum for him, a pleasured cry drowned out by the music, shaking and breathless and beautifully wrecked in his teammate’s arms. And as you all but collapse against him, Hinata finally turns to glance over his shoulder, meeting Atsumu’s stare.

And with his eyes fixed on the blonde, he whispers something into your ear that Atsumu doesn’t have a hope in hell of hearing, presses a soft, lingering kiss to your cheek and grins.

It’s enough to rip him out of his stupor, stumbling back with a gasp as his blood runs cold. Hinata knew, he knew he was watching – put on a fucking show for him, and suddenly the nausea returns, bile creeping up his throat and Atsumu can’t do a single thing but turn and flee.

Alone in his hotel room and not nearly drunk enough, he falls into a fitful sleep, the image of your face, tear stricken and beautiful as you fell to pieces on Hinata’s fingers, burned into the back of his eyelids.

—

He doesn’t utter a word about it when Boktuo gives him shit for ducking out early the next day at training. He doesn’t so much as meet Hinata’s eye, though the redhead seems no different than usual, all but bouncing on his heels when the Coach runs through the game against the Adlers set by set.

He still gushes when Atsumu gives him a perfect set, beaming up at him with that thousand watt smile. He still offers to be paired off with him when they run two-on-two games, isn’t ruffled when Atsumu instead grabs Sakusa and goes up against Adriah and Barnes.

And you’re still sitting in the stands, fingers twined on your lap, smiling dutifully whenever your boyfriend glances up.

Atsumu tries his best to ignore you and focus on training. He can’t afford to let you distract him any more than you already have, but in the quiet moments between sets, on their breaks, every second he’s not thinking about the game and his performance and his team his thoughts drift back to you. The way you’d bitten down on your bottom lip. Your eyes, pupils blown wide as pleasure crashed through you. Your glistening cunt, swallowing up Hinata’s fingers. The cute little noises you made – the ones he couldn’t hear but spent all fucking night imagining.

And the moment those thoughts enter his head, he can’t stop himself from darting a quick glance towards you, like he’s making sure you’re still there, that you’re okay. Even if you stiffen almost imperceptibly every time he does.

He can’t help himself, and he’s not the only one who notices.

“Dude, you good?” Bokuto asks, pulling him aside a week or so later during one of their water breaks. And for a second there, there’s a flicker of indignation – whatever’s going on with his head, his performance is beyond question; he’s killing it.

It’s not until the wing spiker’s attention shifts, risking a glance over his shoulder to where he knows you’re sitting that he realises that’s not what Bokkun’s worried about.

“Look, I get it, she’s cute and all, but…” Bokuto trails off, awkwardly scratching at the back of his neck. Every ounce of discomfort is written clear as day across his face. “You might wanna tone it down a bit, you know? For everyone’s sake.”

The irony of it all doesn’t escape him. And he probably should feel some kinda shame, because if Bokuto’s noticed then that means every goddamn one of the others has too and they’re all just too uncomfortable to say anything, but he can’t seem to muster it.

“Yeah,” he croaks out instead.

Two days later he’s halfway through a shower when the stall beside his bursts open and he hears that familiar, sunny laugh, the sound of two bodies clambering into a space too small, and his heart stutters in his chest.

“Sho, no. I-I don’t wanna–”

“Shh, be good for me, alright baby? Please?”

A drawn out hiss followed by a breathy moan, and Atsumu’s bracing himself against the tiled wall squeezing his eyes shut.

The spray of the shower isn’t loud enough to drown out the sounds of you swallowing down Hinata’s cock. And he can’t move, can’t make a sound for fear of making this worse, but with every lewd, messy gluck from your throat, every obnoxious moan that spills from his teammate’s lips, Atsumu feels that telltale stirring in his gut.

His eyes are closed and the image comes unbidden to his mind.

You on your knees, looking up at him with those big, wide innocent eyes. You, pressing soft, teasing kisses to his cock, your tongue slowly trailing along the thick vein that runs along the underside of his shaft. The way it’d swirl around his flushed head, eagerly lapping at his precum. Fuck, his cock’s already throbbing, aching.

He’s only human, he thinks as he wraps a hand around his member, teeth sinking into the flesh of his forearm to stifle his groan. You’re making a mess of him, he wants it so fucking bad. Wants you; to fuck you, have you, hold you, he doesn’t give a shit anymore, you’re driving him to the brink and he’s helpless to stop this.

He can see it so perfectly in his head, how you’d look with those soft lips wrapped around him, the way you’d massage his balls as he fucked your face, how you’d choke on it. You’d be good, so fucking perfect as you sucked him off–

Hinata’s chanting your name and Atsumu picks up his pace, strokes turning into pumps, his fist tightening as he hisses with pleasure. Distantly he wonders whether they can hear it too; his heavy breathing, the slick, wet sound of him jerking off less than a foot away.

He doesn’t care anymore, can’t hold himself back. It’s blinding, the pleasure that rips through him, shaking him to his very core as spurt after spurt of thick, hot cum paints the shower walls.

His knees buckle, his cock still twitching as aftershocks jolt through him, stealing his breath. For a blissful moment, Atsumu lets himself sag against the tiles, a lazy smirk coating his face as he basks in the afterglow, his heartbeat slowly coming down from it’s racing high.

And yet as the warm water of the shower cascades down his toned body, his breathing returning to normal something unpleasant begins to unfurl in his stomach, toxic and cloying, seeping through his veins. All that bliss, that heady, addictive pleasure fades away and Atsumu’s left with the weight of what he’s just done.

Distantly, he registers that it’s quieter now in the stall next to his. Hinata’s murmuring something to you, but Atsumu can’t make sense of it over the dull roar in his head, the disgust and shame that coils like a noose around his throat.

He should hate himself.

He just might, actually.

And it’s not enough to scrub until his skin’s raw and he doesn’t feel it crawling anymore, doesn’t matter that he stays in the shower until the two of you leave, until the water runs ice cold and it physically hurts to stand under the spray.

Hinata’s still in the locker room when he gets out, slowly gathering the last of his things and shoving them into his duffle bag. For once you’re not by his side, and Atsumu can only thank whatever godly beings might be out there for this one, tiny mercy, because he doesn’t think he can bear to see you after what he’s just done.

But Hinata just smiles, bright and cheerful and all too knowing, “Seeya tomorrow, Atsumu!”

And he feels filthy all over again.

#dark haikyuu #dark hinata x reader #dark hinata shoyo x reader #dark atsumu x reader #dark atsumu miya x reader #tw non con #tw dub con #tw voyeurism #tw yandere #trying out some new tags #don't mind me

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mangofetts · 4 years

Text

star wars filthy headcanons

NSFW UNDER THE CUT!!

din djarin

HUGE breeding kink. this man loves to fill you to the brim. every mandalorian learns from a young age about the resol’nare and he wants to fulfill his duty as best he can. on the subject of this, he cums a lot, like an unhealthy amount. this comes from the mando race in general.

big bondage fan. loves to use the binders on you or tie you up with rope. he uses the magnetic binders so he can pin your hands above you and keep them there without him constantly making sure they’re there. also helps him relax and make sure that you don’t make any moves to take off his helmet while he’s not paying attention (not that you would, but he likes to make sure). he also likes pinning you with his body. loves gagging you as well.

cum play. since his load is big, it doesn’t stay in you for long so he likes to go back in with his fingers and plug your cunt so no more comes out. he loves facials and/or cumming on your chest, belly, and thighs. something about that just drives him crazy, seeing you marked with him. he also scoops the cum up and feeds it to you or even rubs it into your skin like it’s oil for a massage (he’ll clean you up real good if he does that don’t worry ;))

gun play. he likes when you’re helpless under him with his blaster to your forehead as he tells you to not move or make any noise. there have beens times where he fucks you on his blaster and makes you suck all your juices off of it. HE ALWAYS MAKES SURE THE CHAMBER IS EMPTY AND THE SAFETY IS ON BEFORE HE DOES THIS. he does not want to hurt you unless you want it and he would never shoot you.

control and authority kink. he likes to have control over you. likes to pull your strings and make you do whatever he says. even better if you’re a brat, he’ll just have to be rougher with you.

a dom/sub relationship, with you being the sub most of the time. you guys use a lot of bdsm elements. you don’t call him any names in bed unless he wants you to. it’s either mando or din.

cockwarming!! he likes to make sure that his cum stays inside of you and he likes the feeling of you around him.

praise kink both ways. he likes to praise you for taking him so well, for listening to him. and he likes to be praised because he wants to know what he’s doing is good. he’s been deprived of praise since he was little (the mandalorians are proud of him, just never showed it) so he needs it when he’s with you.

paz vizsla

once again, huge breeding kink for the same reasons as din. he also just loves kids and would like to have his own clan instead of looking after other foundlings. he also cums an inhuman amount.

DADDY KINK. he loves being your daddy in bed, especially when you’re nice and desperate for him. this also has to do with the breeding kink, just all around big daddy vibes.

body worship. people are often afraid of him and he blames it on how big he is. sometimes he needs someone to tell him he’s not frightening. he loves doing to same for you, complimenting you endlessly if you need some pick-me-ups or if he’s just in the mood (which is literally all the time.

cockwarming. after filling you up, he likes to clean you up, and then put his soft cock back inside of you so his cum stays inside of you. will usually end up in morning sex.

praise kink. he LOVES being praised by you. telling him that he’s so good, that he’s absolutely beautiful, and that he’s strong makes him PREEN. he tries to return the favor by praising you, but he stammers and stutters it out because he’s not used to saying stuff like that out loud.

size kink. this man is 6’3”, almost 6’6” with his armor on. he loves smaller people because they’re tiny and fragile and he could just crush them in the palm of his hand. he is THICK. 100% GRASS FED BEEF MY GUY. big tiddies, big arms, big guy in general. he is very blessed under the belt, his cock is inhumanly big. he likes to hold you down and make you take it. likes to watch you take it too. if you want to drive him crazy, make it look like you are absolutely struggling to take him; any form of that will make him keen. tell him that his cock is too big for you, that’s he’s so big and that he’s going to split you in half. he will break you and you won’t be able to walk for days.

definitely a voyeur. he likes watching you pleasure yourself. he also likes being watched, even more than you’d think.

likes when you play hard to get. like he’s a predator and your his pray. alas you won’t run very far, his legs are longer than yours, but it’s what he does that makes it worth it.

boba fett

control kink, this is pretty obvious. notorious bounty hunter. he likes having complete control over you. this leads into his bondage kink.

bondage, also likes using the binders on you, no rope though, just the binders. he likes to watch you struggles and they make pretty bruises on your wrists and ankles.

likes to mark you up, make sure everyone knows that you’re his. he doesn’t want to lose his baby now does he? bites and bruises all over your body from his mouth, hands, and sometimes his boots if you’re into that.

spanking as well, he likes to make sure that you stay in your place. he doesn’t like a brat; he knows how to tame one though!!

gunplay FOR THE WIN. likes to hold the gun to your head while he fucks you, sometimes puts it in your mouth. he likes to fuck you with it and make you suck the barrel of it off. LIKE I SAID BEFORE HE MAKES SURE THAT THE CHAMBER IS EMPTY AND THAT THE SAFETY IS ONE. also likes using vibroblades on you too.

likes to slap and pull your hair.

HE CANNOT BE GENTLE AT THE BEGINNING OF YOUR RELATIONSHIP. you have to sit him down and explain/convince him to take some scenes slow. once he gets the hang of it he likes slow sex. likes to revel in the pleasure.

definitely likes to tease. he likes seeing you desperate. loves keeping you wrapped around his finger.

darth maul

breeding kink, he wants you to get pregnant SO BAD. he really wants kids of his own. he LOVES coming in you and plugging your cunt with a toy.

cockwarming. something about having his cock in you relaxes him immensely. he likes having you in his lap while he works and you sleep (or squirm).

likes to sub AND dom. he likes being fucked and fucking. ruling mandalore is hard and sometimes he needs to give someone else control. usually the scene is you fucking him with your cock, or you fucking him with your hole. either way is a great time for him.

likes to hurt you, but only if you like it. most of it is lightsaber play and knife play. he likes watching you scream and writhe under him. one time he used the saber to carve his initials on your thigh. another way he likes to hurt you is digging his sharp horns into your inner thigh while he’s eating you out. he likes watching you flinch away from him.

praise kink. he is not what people picture when they think of a handsome man. so whenever you praise him is a nice time for him.

MASTER KINK. he likes being called this, it’s like he has an apprentice even though palpatine told him he was incapable of having one.

likes collars and harnesses. he likes letting people know that you’re his. plus your chest looks amazing in those harnessses.

DIRTY TALK AND PET NAMES. this man is one smooth motherfucker. he’ll call you princess/prince, baby, kitten, darling, sweetheart. he will whisper dirty things to you, just to get you riled up.

kylo ren/ben solo

the biggest dom AND sub you will ever see. he likes being fucked and fucking.

pain kink, if he’s subbing, he likes when you pull his hair, cut him with his pocket knife, burn him with his own lightsaber, or even you stepping on his dick. not too hard, you don’t want to damage his goods, but hard enough for it to be slightly painful. the thrill of it all makes him blow his load HARD. if he has any open wounds he likes to press on them so more blood comes out + it’s painful. scenes like these usually end with a short trip to the medbay. if he’s domming he will not hurt you, not even superficially. most of the pain comes from him pulling your hair and pushing you to your knees harshly.

praise kink. after everything that’s happened, he definitely wants some soft loving sometimes. he likes giving and receiving praise!! although it takes him a bit to get the words out since he never says those things out loud anywhere else.

also kind of has a master kink, but prefers to hear his name over that.

he takes almost all of his stress out in your sessions so he’s nice a pliable after a good fuck or two.

aftercare is HIGH TIER. he has a nice bed, you like to stretch out on it while he gets you a glass of water and a warm wet towel to clean you up. usually some back rubs as well.

he loves being degraded. being told that his dick is too small, or that he’s a slut, or even that he’s nothing gets him going like nothing else. any insults you throw at him will be met with a groan or a keen if it’s especially mean.

can absolutely go more than one round. his stamina IS CRAZY.

these are off of the top of my head lol

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bored-storyteller · 3 years

Text

44- Twisted Wonderland, Riddle, Leona, Idia and Azul x Reader

- When Riddle looks at you he probably doesn't even realize it. Whatever he is doing, if you are around him his gaze is automatically drawn to you. It is a natural gesture that is not even programmed, simply out of nowhere he realizes at some point that he has only you in sight.

-Obviously Riddle is an extremely serious and competent person, he will not be distracted by your presence from what he is doing, whether it is giving directions or scolding the most unruly students. Only his eye will fall on you several times, to control you.

- But when by chance you catch his eye though, oh, poor Riddle. There is no wall or shelf that can hide the shyness and embarrassment that suddenly takes him. Why can't he look away from you?

-You smile at him, of course. Of course you smile at him. How can you be so merciless with his poor heart? The blush and embarrassment become the masters of him, and he cannot calm his heartbeat which accelerates so fast that he is convinced that you can hear it, despite your distance from him.

-It is obvious that everyone will notice the drastic change and sudden nervousness that the young leader of Heartslabyul takes.

-"Are you ok?" your voice wanders between worried and amused as you approach him, and his gloved hand instinctively moves towards his lips, in an attempt to shield at least a little from the eyes of others: "I'm fine! Really fine!"

-You don't insist, you can't be so cruel - certainly Cater will do his duty if he's around -, but you can enjoy that tender admiration you enjoy for a while. "See you later!" you tell him quietly, and he just nods, unable to speak anymore.

-Despite everything, despite the embarrassment, his eyes will follow you as you move away until you are no longer reachable from his sight. And believe us, he can't wait to see you again.

-It's not so strange that Leona's eyes fall on you, he dominates what he looks at. It is not strange to anyone that his eyes flow towards you and linger. It is never too much nor too little, he is the leader who keeps an eye on his herd.

-You are a herbivore, it is obvious that he keeps an eye on you - because he has to, not because he obviously wants -, but his gaze is always steady, almost hard, bored. That's why no one ever pays attention to it, even if having Leona's gaze on you so often must mean something.

-However, sometimes he really gets lost looking at you. There is no particular reason, you are simply there and nothing is more interesting than you. He doesn't realize it, and nobody realizes it, at least until you're the one who inadvertently looks up at him.

-And then there is a stalemate, you both look at each other in silence. Then slowly he begins to realize, you know from his feline ears that flatten slowly against his head, from his emerald eyes that widen slightly and from his tail that twitches nervously behind him.

- "What are you looking at, little herbivore?" Obviously he tries to turn the alleged blame back on you, yet that embarrassed childlike attitude of him makes you smile. "Nothing, and what do you need?" You answer him without fear.

- "Oi ... if I don't keep an eye on you, you'll end up being eaten by someone here." His tone is lower, his eyes are now narrowed, but his ears and his tail still show his agitation. You laugh, and he, now completely exposed, growls at you, then turning his back on you.

-He walks away, but his leonine tail hits your arm, tickling it slightly. It's his way of playing and you know it. Leona's attentions are not so rare if you know how to perceive them, and if you are willing to really know him, it is fun to have something to do with him.

-Idia is even afraid to look at you! Not that he is really afraid of you, but every time his gaze slips in your direction he feels in danger, sensing the risk of being discovered.

- Whenever you are around him he will try in every way not to look at you. He even pretends not to see you at times, he parades in front of you without a word, with his head bowed. He obviously hurts you, given the intimacy you think you have with him, but he doesn't know it, he would never want to hurt you, you know.

-However, when he feels safe enough from the looks of others, or simply when he is so focused on your voice enough to lower his defenses, he finds himself looking at you as if only you exist on earth, as if everything else was a background without importance.

-When he realizes that he is blocked, it is natural for him to fall into total embarrassment, it doesn't matter if you haven't seen him, his heart is too violent to be controlled.

-So imagine when suddenly your eyes dip into him when he still hasn't realized he's locked in on you. Oh, poor Idia, he thinks he can die right now. His hands hide her strawberry-red face, and in a vague attempt to get out of sight he pulls the collar of his sweatshirt over his nose.

-"I'm sorry!" He will exclaim over and over again, in total panic. You don't know what he's apologizing for, but deep down it's Idia, so don't think about it too long.

-"Everything is alright!" You exclaim, reaching out to lightly caress his head. You can't help it, he's too tender.

-His golden eyes peek shyly, as if he were asking your forgiveness for a crime. "It's just that you're too cute ..." he whispers to you, sure no one else can hear him but you, and you can feel his blush spread to you too.

- Azul's gaze is fleeting. He never persists too much, it is difficult to notice and can easily be mistaken for a casual look that falls on you while his eyes retrace the surrounding environment.

- If someone looks at him long enough, however, the frequency with which that casual look of his falls on you could be quite suspicious, to Floyd for example it is suspicious.

- All he does when your gaze is also on him is to look away with the naturalness with which he placed it, moving it towards his interlocutor or on the book under his nose. You do the same, of course. There is no way you can look at it with the express purpose of admiring it, right?

- It's all right, as long as your catching him red-handed is sudden and insistent. It happens in that particular moment when his pupils find themselves penetrating yours. It is the moment of half a second that makes the difference, that look of yours fallen into his eyes too perfectly that imprisons him, and there he is trapped.

- He looks at you for endless seconds, his eyes slightly wider just like a culprit. How can it escape you now?

-He clears his throat and puts his glasses on his nose, while his eyes wander lightning fast on the too explicit smiles of the twins. Obviously you noticed, that's why you're not taking your eyes off him, right?

- "Forgive me, it's indiscreet of me." He still mumbles, covering his lips with his fingers. Is it a blush you see on the tips of his ears? Now that you're close to him, he can't help but apologize, yet you can't know how agitated his mind is as he looks at your smile.

- "It's okay, I was looking at you too, it's normal, right?" Your sincere answer leaves him thrilled, he almost forgets to breathe. Azul is not one who speaks out of turn, but as you join him to reach the lesson he cannot say a word, too focused to tame his eyes which inevitably continue to rest on you.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twst x reader #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #idia shroud #riddle rosehearts #twst leona #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #idia shroud x reader #twst headcanons #twst idia #twst azul #twst riddle

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marauderundercover · 3 years

Text

Taking Chances Ch. 12: Resting at Home (Alt Prompt: Baking)

AO3

Waking up at five in the morning, feeling like you’re surrounded is disorienting. Waking up with a sore throat and shooting pain in her shoulder was also disorienting. Until she remembered everything from the night before. Adrien was not going to be happy. He’d begged her to tell him if she ended up going on patrol with her father, wanting her to be safe. She didn’t tell him, and now she was certain he was going to be angry. Unless she could get back to the hotel before he woke up. But it was still unlikely that he wouldn’t know. Plagg was a tattle tale. Sighing, she carefully gets out of the bed, maneuvering around her brothers’ sleeping forms on the floor. Walking out of the room, she instantly feels anxious. Deciding a glass of water might calm her down, she heads towards the kitchen.

“I believe you should be resting, Miss Marinette.” Alfred says, making her jump. She winces as her shoulder jostles, trying not to frown at the way Alfred’s lips purse. She knew he was worried. And she knew her family was going to be unbelievably overprotective for the next six months. Or maybe, six years. She’s not exactly sure how protective they actually are.

“I was going to get a glass of water.” She says softly, pointing to her throat. “I was also feeling a little anxious.”

“Very well. I was about to start the preparations for breakfast. If you promise to sit and refrain from straining yourself, you may come with.” He says. She grins, immediately falling into step with the man.

“Could we bake something for everyone for breakfast?” She asks, glancing up at him. “It doesn’t have to be anything too difficult. I mean, I’d prefer to make croissants the first time I bake for them, but there’s not exactly time to do that for breakfast.” She rambles as they walk into the kitchen. Alfred immediately walks over to a cabinet and grabs a glass, filling it with water before handing it to her and raising an eyebrow. She smiles gratefully and sips on the water, relishing in the coolness on her throat.

“I believe our agreement was that you would sit and refrain from straining yourself.” Alfred says, moving around the kitchen with ease. Marinette huffs but plops onto one of the stools.

“It doesn’t have to be anything difficult! It could even be….muffins! Muffins are popular for breakfast here, right?” She suggests, flailing her arms, wincing as she does so. It was going to be annoying remembering that her injury was there this time around. There was no Miraculous Cure when her opponent was just a bad guy, not a Miraculous holder.

“If I allow you to turn on the mixer and place the liners in the tin, will you be satisfied?” Alfred asks with a sigh. Marinette grins and nods. There’s comfortable silence as Alfred moves about the kitchen, measuring out the ingredients.

“Alfred?” She finally asks, glancing at the man who only hums in acknowledgement. “Who is Slade?” She asks. He pauses, the measuring cup positioned over the bowl. He takes a deep breath and dumps the ingredient in before straightening even more.

“He was part of the organization that Master Damian grew up in. He’s always hated both Master Bruce and Master Damian. And now, I imagine, you’re also on his list.” He says calmly, clearly looking at her for some type of reaction.

“So now another villain is after my Miraculous? Joy.” She says sarcastically, pouting as she slumps in her seat. “I was kinda hoping he was just some random guy. Not a legitimate villain.” She adds. Alfred simply shakes his head, sliding the muffin tin and liners towards her.

“I can assure you, Miss Marinette. Between your father and brothers, this man will not succeed in taking your Miraculous. Marinette frowns, hoping the man is right.

---

Sitting straight up in bed, Damian tenses. This was not his bed. Blinking, he looks around the room and lets his shoulders relax slightly. He was in Dupain Cheng’s room, of course. She had been attacked last night- He pauses. He frowns as he looks at her pillows, no sight of her. Leaping over his brothers, he knocks on the door for the bathroom attached to her room.

“Dupain Cheng?” He says lowly, frowning at the lack of a response. He pushes the door open. Empty. So she was missing. She could not have gotten far. And she had to have left of her own volition. No one could have made it past all of his siblings. Leaving the room, he decides his first course of action should be to ask Pennyworth. Judging by the time, he should be in the kitchen. Making his way into the kitchen (his technical ban should not be an issue since he was actively looking for Dupain Cheng), he pauses when he sees the girl he was looking for, slumped onto the island.

“Ah, Master Damian. Breakfast should be ready soon. Would you care to fetch the rest of your siblings?” He asks. Damian frowns, glancing at Dupain Cheng. Was she okay? Should she really be up and running around after yesterday? She might be one of Paris’ heroes, but surely she wasn’t used to being stabbed?

“Very well.” He says, instead of arguing. He would just have to monitor Dupain Cheng from afar. After all, she did take a sword meant for him.

---

Marinette sighs, pushing herself off the counter. She wasn’t sure how serious breakfast was for the family, but she certainly didn’t want to scare anyone with her bedhead. Hopping off the stool, she winces slightly.

“Miss Marinette, I do wish you would refrain from jostling your wounds so much.” Alfred says, a small frown on his face. Mari grins awkwardly.

“Sorry Alfred.” She apologizes before rushing back up the stairs. She glances into several open doors, suddenly wishing she’d counted earlier to know which was hers. She huffs, prepared to give up, when someone clears their throat. She whirls around, raising an eyebrow at Damian.

“That room is yours.” He says simply, pointing at a door. “Everyone has vacated your room in order to get dressed in their own.” He adds, turning around and walking into a room. Well that’s new, she thinks, surprised that he’s still talking to her. Sure they talked briefly last night, but she honestly thought it was a fluke. Not that she minded. She really did want a relationship with all of her siblings. After being an only child for fourteen years, it was amazing to have so many siblings. Sure they didn’t grow up together, but she was certain that they could all become close. Walking into her room, Marinette quickly gets dressed in clothes that had obviously been left in there by Cass, since they were much smaller than anything the boys could have worn. Smiling, she ducks into the bathroom to deal with her bedhead, squeaking in surprise as something flies into her face.

“Tikki?” She says, shocked at the way the Kwami flies at her.

“You could have died! You silly, silly girl! I could have lost you last night, Marinette.” She cries, flying at Marinette’s face and patting her with her tiny paws. And in that moment, Marinette swears her heart breaks.

“Oh, Tikki.” She says softly, bringing her hands up to cradle the trembling Kwami. “I’m okay, I promise. Don’t worry, I was with my family. They wouldn’t let anything happen to me. I’m right here.” She reassures her small friend, wincing as she continues shaking.

“I couldn’t have saved you, Marinette. It wasn’t magic. There would have been no cure. I healed your shoulder as much as I can without disrupting the balance, but it’s still going to take weeks to fully heal.” Tikki says, her big eyes watery.

“I know, Tikki. But I couldn’t just let Damian get hurt. He’s my little brother, whether he likes it or not.” She says, patting her friend’s head gently before moving to her brush.

“But-” Tikki starts, pausing when Marinette turns her full attention back to her.

“But nothing Tikki. I’m okay, you’re okay, and my family is okay. That’s all we can ask for.” She says, going back to her attempts to tame her hair. Her phone, which she had set on the side of the sink, starts buzzing incessantly. Without glancing at the caller ID, she answers.

“Marinette Dupain Cheng, where the hell are you? Plagg says you left late last night and didn’t come back!” The worried voice of Adrien Agreste leaks through the speakers. Oh, right. She forgot to text him. Oops.

Tag list: @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @mizzy-pop @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @nerd-nowandforever @tazanna-blythe @jaybird-and-co @imarivers8 @when-no-wings-dobroomsticks

#maribat #maribat bruce wayne #maribat bio dad bruce #maribat bio dad! bruce wayne month 2021 #maribat bio dad au #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat marinette dupain cheng is ladybird #maribat damian wayne #platonic daminette #mbdbwm2021 #day twelve alt prompt #ao3fic #maribat fic

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ptersparkers · 4 years

Text

hotbox

summary: you’re high out of your mind for the first time and rafe’s surprised by your sudden and explicit confession.

warnings: smut, y’all.

notes: the rafe in this/all my fics isn’t canon and i just love drew but i feel weird writing for a real person ok. also let me emphasize (again) that i am NOT excusing his behavior by writing my stories with him. this is my imagination in it, there’s literally nothing canon about his character. okay bye happy reading.

writing this is pure wish fulfillment. BYEEEEEEE.

For the better half of six months, Rafe Cameron had been lucky enough to call you his girlfriend.

Rafe could remember the exact moment a mutual friend had introduced the two of you. Topper, his best friend since the beginning of freshman year, put together a welcoming party for his new apartment that he leased at the beginning of senior year of college. You were a starting junior at the time and knew Topper because he was a teaching assistant in your introductory economics class, and the unlikely friendship between the widely popular frat boy and the bookish wine drinker was born.

You were sitting on the couch’s arm rest when he arrived and Rafe hadn’t taken notice of you in favor of congratulating Topper on the new place, setting a bottle of wine as a warming gift. Engrossed in a conversation, you didn’t notice Topper introducing his best friend to everyone he didn’t know at the party until Rafe greeted your counterpart and looked at you.

You smiled at him and stuck your hand out for him to shake. Rafe could vividly remember how soft they were and how you hadn’t broken eye contact with him when he returned the favor. Neither of you spoke to one another for the rest of the night aside from small talk when you offered to help Topper clean up the living room when the majority of the guests began to leave. Rafe decided to forego a ride from a friend in favor of helping you pick up wine glasses and paper plates from the floor and bookshelves.

What started as an innocent introduction became a case of pining; Rafe saw you everywhere he went after that party and swore the universe had an agenda. You would enter the library as he was leaving. Whenever he’d stop by the coffee shop on campus, you’d be chatting with a friend at a table by the window. Rafe would see you walk past his advisor’s office whenever he appeared early for his appointment. He concluded that it wasn’t just a coincidence and he knew he had to say something to you sooner rather than later.

Constantly seeing you started the fluttering feeling in his stomach and the smile he couldn’t seem to wipe off his face. It was a coincidence that you bumped into Rafe and Topper in the mess hall one evening and spent two hours in the same spot, laughing about a conversation Rafe couldn’t remember. All he could recall was feeling like he had nothing to worry about for the first time.

Topper was the one to give Rafe your phone number after noticing how long he’d spend staring at you and picked up how innocuously shy Rafe would act when asking if you were coming to one of their frat parties. Rafe always knew the answer was no, because he learned you weren’t the party type, but that didn’t stop him from wishing he’d have a reason to see you. Topper wasn’t shy about putting your number in his phone and Rafe put it to good use an hour later.

Rafe didn’t go to the frat party at the biggest house on the property. Instead, he chose to stay sober and drive to your dorm hall to pick you up, heading to a local spot to pick up food before driving to the edge of a cliff’s edge for a peaceful night underneath the beacon of stars that seemed brighter, truly, for the first time.

He knew he was in deep when he chose to decline alcohol-driven nights to listen to your favorite songs in your dorm room. Rafe knew you’d never force him to separate himself from things he loved to do, which made it easy for him to choose waking up next to you in the morning sun over waking up slouched over a couch in a room he wasn’t familiar with.

When he gained the courage to make a move, and when you said yes to being his girlfriend, there was no shortage of tenderness on both ends as Rafe became accustomed to having you pressed against his tall frame. You’d steal his clothes and he’d love the scent of your perfume on them when you gave it back. You’d support him through tough finals and he’d be your study partner until late into the night. He’d take you on dates until you two forgot what time it was and he lived to see when you were too happy to realize you should head back to your dorm hall.

It was circumstantial, this relationship, but neither you nor Rafe would change a thing.

The both of you were invited to go to a local bar just outside of the city by mutual friends to celebrate the end of finals week. You and Rafe hadn't seen much of one another due to conflicting schedules and reached an understanding that there wasn’t going to be much time to spend together until the semester was over, and you both jumped at the chance to let loose and forget the horrors of testing.

One of your friends, Violet, had been smoking a joint by the time you got to her apartment to get ready, and because the stress of finals was over, you decided to let loose and enjoy the first night of freedom by smoking to celebrate. You weren’t quite sure how fast it happened due to the lack of experience when it came to smoking, but time passed and it felt like the clouds had landed on the ground specifically for you to walk on. Violet had texted Rafe on your behalf to let him know the state of you were in before hopping into an Uber to the bar.

Rafe arrived first and saw the place wasn’t as packed as the bars back in the city and appreciated the stillness. Pool tables were situated in every corner and he could see his friends throwing darts as he grabbed a drink from the bartender who gave him a friendly smile before leaving to help another customer. Rafe didn’t know what to expect from you tonight. The only other time you had been high was a few months prior, and even then you were quite tame after taking a single hit from Topper.

“Baby!” you said louder than usual when you saw his frame from afar. Rafe turned around and grinned widely at the sight of you sauntering to him, his arms reaching out to pull you in an embrace as he lifted your frame off of the ground. He let you greet the rest of the party before settling his arm around your waist, your head leaning on him. JJ, one of your mutual friends, helped you regain your balance when you accidentally bumped into a stool chair.

“You havin’ fun?” he asked. Rafe chuckled at the state of your red eyes and kissed your temple when you nodded shyly.

“I feel really good right now,” you said. “Violet thought it would be better if I wore flat shoes.” You pointed at your white Converse high tops. “I came wearing heels but I think she had a better idea.”

“Thanks, Vi,” he said, looking up at the girl who you had walked in with. She gave Rafe a friendly nod and resumed talking to JJ, her long term boyfriend.

“I literally feel like I could die happy,” you said, aimlessly looking around, not focusing on one thing or the other.

“We definitely don’t want that tonight,” Rafe said. “Better keep you close just in case.” He maneuvered himself so that his back was resting on the bar and your body was resting in his chest, your head on the fabric of his shirt, nuzzled as if you were in the comfort of your own bed. Rafe grinned at you and stroked the side of your head, watching the rest of the party interact with one another.

“Hey, man,” JJ said, nodding Rafe in acknowledgement. “You gonna get a drink, Y/N?” JJ noticed the lack of alcohol by you and Rafe, but you shook your head the same time Violet did.

“She’s pretty high,” said Violet, who had been pressed against JJ’s side. His grip on her waist tightened when she laughed at your state of being, watching as you dug yourself a spot on Rafe’s chest. “I think she shouldn’t be crossfaded tonight, at least.”

“That’s why you’re the smart one in this relationship,” JJ said before pressing a quick kiss to Violet’s lips. “Kelce, Pope, and John B. are on their way. I think they should be about ten minutes?”

“Don’t worry, man,” Rafe said. “I’m gonna keep Y/N company and make sure she doesn’t hurt herself.” Violet and JJ leave the two of you in favor to start a conversation with Topper and his girlfriend Maddie, whom you met during an economics class and became food friends with, would periodically check up on you throughout the night.

For the duration of the evening, you don’t leave Rafe’s side very often. When he’s talking to your mutual friends, who come to understand that you’re incredibly high and are experiencing this for the first time, they stick to playfully teasing you including you in the conversation when you’re turning in, accommodating when you zone out.

Rafe can’t help but think how adorable you look with glossy eyes and the tip of your nose a fair shade of pink. Your cheeks are tinted red and your lips are wet from constantly licking him. He squeezes your hip when you silently beg for attention and periodically presses kisses to your temple, leaving you in a state of bliss.

By now, your arms were wrapped loosely around him and he swayed the both of you back and forth to the song you didn’t know the name of. You looked between him and the exposed chest from four open buttons on his shirt and he looked down at you with the corners of his mouth lifted into an amused grin.

“You’ve been so clingy all night, baby,” he said, giving your hips a squeeze. “You okay?”

“Mhm,” you mumbled. You could feel your tongue in your dry mouth and licked your lips. “Just enjoying this feeling.”

“Of being high?” he asked. You nodded.

“God, I don’t know why I didn’t do this before,” you replied. “I feel so good. Maybe it’s because finals are over or maybe I just really like being high.” Rafe laughed and leaned down to press a kiss to your temple and you could feel his warm mouth on your skin. When he leaned back to look at you, he could see that your eyes were trained on him and your mouth parted slightly.

“You okay, baby? What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking,” you began, but paused. He could see your eyes were trying hard to focus on his facial features and he brought his hand up to your jaw and used the pad of his thumb to stroke your cheek.

“Yeah? What are you thinking of, pretty girl?” You licked your lips once more and your gaze flickered from his chest to his eyes.

“I’m thinking about how much I want you to eat my pussy in the back of your car.”

Rafe’s eyes widened and he didn’t hide the fact that he was taken by surprise. Out of the time the two of you had been dating, things didn’t go farther than kissing or grinding against one another in the bedroom, and Rafe never wanted to pressure you into doing something you were uncomfortable with. As far as he knew, you were comfortable with the amount of sexual activity that had taken place, which is why he was so surprised when you openly expressed your desire.

“W-What?” he asked, choking on his words. He looked around to see if any of your friends were paying attention but they were too busy engrossed in a conversation or were incredibly drunk themselves. You were running your hands over his chest and touching his jeans to the point where he was aware of how close your fingertips are to his member and had to shift himself so that his friends can’t see what you’re up to.

“I need your mouth so badly,” you whined, a pout forming on your lips as you do. Rafe looked at you and he swore his cock had hardened by the desperation in your glossy eyes and wordlessly took your hand in his and pulled you out of the bar and into the near barren parking lot with the exception of a few cars. Where he parked was barely lit, off to the side of the gigantic light that illuminated the open space. He unlocked his car and pushed you gently into the backseat until you looked situated enough. Rafe squatted outside of the backdoor as your legs dangled out the side and you've managed to take your jean shorts off so that it’s pooling at your legs.

“Babe,” he said. “You sure?”

“I need your fucking mouth on my pussy,” you whine, reaching down to put your hand over your clothed entrance to move your panties aside. Rafe watched as you worked your already glistening slit, your hands delicately moving as you looked at him, a silent message that he can only interpret as you silently begging for his mouth.

Rafe wasted no time giving you what you want other than to take your panties off completely and throw them into the front seat. His tongue flattened against your core and you let out a loud and obscene moan, but neither of you cared to check if anyone was in the dark parking lot or not. His hands were on both of your thighs and he could hear your breaths become increasingly shallow as his tongue worked wonders, moving like he needed to lap up every last drop if he wanted to live to see another day.

He would feel your legs shaking and did his best to keep a hold on you, his arm on your body to hold you down as you squirmed and bucked your hips. Your legs could spread only so wide in the confinements of the car, but that didn’t stop you from trying to spread them wider for easier access. Rafe moaned against your body and you shuddered at the feeling of his vibration being sent up your body, your ears ringing with pleasure.

Your boyfriend could feel your hands wander to the back of his head and didn’t mind you tugging on his roots. It encouraged him to move his tongue faster and harder as he felt you pull his hair and moan with approval. The tip of his tongue darted in and out of your entrance and you screamed in euphoria, mumbling about how you were going to release any second.

Rafe prepared by lapping your core with his tongue like he needed this. His chin was covered in your slick and his head was moving with the rhythm of his tongue, listening as you told him you were coming and felt your legs tremble beneath him. White pearls escaped your core and Rafe was quick to catch them with his tongue, enjoying the feeling of you sliding down his throat. As you were coming down from your high, and as Rafe was cleaning the mess he made, you reached for his hand and put it where his mouth was.

“Y/N?” he asked timidly, looking up at you. “Are you sure you want this?”

You knew him too well. You knew Rafe would ask you if you were comfortable with doing anything before he made his move and he would reassure you that you had nothing to worry about when you were with him. Before deciding to smoke a few blunts upon coming to the bar tonight, you had considered asking Rafe to experience this euphoria with you in full without him holding back. But because finals rolled around, you thought it was best to wait until it was over, and your current state heightened your preexisting feelings.

He mistook your silence as a sign to stop, so he pulls his hand away.

“We can stop if you want,” he said. You shook your vigorously and put his hand back to your entrance.

“Rafe, I’ve wanted this for so long,” you said, grinding your hips against the palm of his hand. “I’ve been so shy about asking you to fuck me but I’ve been thinking about your cock so much that I can’t focus.” Rafe’s eyes widened at the sudden confession. “I just want you to use me until you’re done with me.”

Rafe choked.

“Baby-”

“Do it,” you said forcefully. “I want you to use me.”

Rafe’s jaw has gone slack and all of his fantasies with you came rushing to the front of his mind. He looked at you and you nodded, telling him you trust him not to hurt you because you knew that’s what he was thinking about.

“Baby, I’ll never be done with you.”

His hands started to tease your entrance slowly, and when you whined and begged for him to move faster, he placed a harsh and prominent slap on your pussy that made you jump in surprise. Rafe waited for your reaction and upon seeing the dirty smile on your face, he did it again.

“So fucking wet for me, huh? Baby wants my fingers?” he taunted.

“I want them inside of me,” you moaned. Rafe’s heart was still beating fast and he tried to slow his heart rate when he heard how vocally expressive you are, not used to the idea of you being open sexually. But he embraced your confidence and promised himself to give you what you wanted and what you could handle.

“I can’t say no to you, can I?”

Rafe’s got you sat up properly in the car, your back against the rest as he moved his arm to move his fingers against your clit, which made your eyes close shut. He covered his fingers in your slick from the previous time you came and put his middle finger inside of you, relishing in the feeling of you moaning with your head tilted back against the headrest.

As you emit high-pitched moans, all Rafe could think about was how lucky he was to have someone who trusted him. You were willing to drop your panties in a public parking lot, and moaned so loudly that he wa’s sure the patrons in the bar heard you over the loud music. His eyes looked at you in adoration as he added another finger and pumped his hand faster while you moaned louder. Rafe didn’t bother fixing himself because he knew his cock was hard by the sight of your legs spread for him and your mouth begging him to make you come.

He used this moment to unzip his jeans and push them down far enough to palm himself through his boxers. His half-hardened member was aching and he desperately wanted to pull himself out, but he stuck with focusing on making you orgasm for the second time before pleasuring himself until his vision grew hazy.

“I’m gonna,” you said, not bothering to finish your sentence. Rafe couldn’t say anything and when you let out the moan that signaled what was about to come, you held onto his wrist as he kept his fingers inserted inside of you and he felt your come drip onto his fingers, smirking at the way you were holding his fingers in place for him. He moved his hand from your core and brought them up to your lips with a smirk. You didn’t have to be told twice and he watched as you welcomed his long digits into your mouth, your tongue working to lap yourself from his hand.

Rafe stood there with his mouth opened slightly and his heart beating faster. You moved yourself onto your knees and pulled your top of your head and discarded your bra, leaving you completely naked while Rafe was still fully clothed. Your hand reached out for his boxers and Rafe looked down at you.

“Babe,” he said. “It’s okay.”

“Rafe,” you deadpanned. “I want you to feel good too. I want to take care of you. Can I do that?”

When Rafe nodded, you pulled him out of his boxers and bit your lip at his already impressive size for being half hard. You looked at Rafe and saw as his eyebrow creased when you stroked him slowly, allowing yourself to bask in his glory before moving your body down the car seat to put your mouth around his head.

Rafe had received blowjobs in the past, but the combination of being semi-public and realizing the girl he loves was willing to make him feel good for the sake of seeing him happy made his mind race a million miles per hour. You pushed his jeans down with his boxers for more access and, slowly, your mouth began to take him farther into your throat.

His hips bucked voluntarily and he cursed himself for taking it too far with you until he saw your body inch forward to take more of him into your mouth until the entirety of his cock disappeared into your mouth. He groaned and knew you were okay with him being rough with you, and reached his hand out to place it on the back of your head. Rafe was unapologetic when he moved his hips to fuck your mouth, caressing your body until his fingers reach your entrance once more.

When you felt him delicately put his fingers into you once more, collecting the remnants of come, you moaned against his cock and it sent shivers down your boyfriend’s spine. It taunted him to reach his orgasm quicker and when you look up at him through your lashes, he gives little to no warning before moving your head down to the base of his cock as he releases into your mouth.

Your dirty smile was apparent, trying to accommodate to the surprise. When you were able to take him out of your mouth, a string of spit connects his tip with your tongue and you stroke him to keep him hard.

“My love,” he whispered to himself, eyes shut and head tilted back. You watched him as he tried to catch his breath, his chest heaving as he fumbled with the buttons. His cock was still standing, erect and proud, when he remembered he had an extra joint and a lighter in the glove compartment.

You watched as Rafe pulled it out of the messy box and you licked your lips as you made room for him in the backseat. The both of you were completely naked and your leg swung over his lap, making yourself at home by sitting directly on his still-hardened cock. Rafe watched as you ground your bare pussy over him and did his best not to be too distracted as he lit the joint, grinning when he successfully lit the piece and brought it to your mouth to take the first hit.

Your lips lingered around the joint for a moment before releasing, a faint cloud of white smoke filling the space of the car. Rafe realized the door was still open and reached over to slam it shut before you passed the joint to him. You watched as his lips enveloped the joint and he puffed in the opposite direction, and the both of you can feel the atmosphere change. Rafe was bucking his hips to meet your movements as you moved down onto him, and he moved his lips to your neck, leaving a trail of wet and sloppy kisses on your skin. You were too busy enjoying yourself to realize the both of you had passed the joint back and forth so quickly upon seeing it crumble.

Rafe took the remnants and smoked what he could before you hastily put your mouth on his. You were taken by surprise and released the smoke into your mouth, and you kept yourself from shaking at the sheer pleasure. His mouth moved against yours in what you can describe as wonder; Rafe’s hands roamed your body while his tongue explored every corner of your mouth. When you felt his mouth move your breasts and his whimpers at the feeling of you on his cock, you looked at him.

“Rafe,” you moaned. Rafe’s attention moved from your breasts to your gaze and he could feel your hand moving his cock to your entrance. He moaned loudly when you moved your body to sink down on him completely and he recalled that your core was coated with two previous orgasms.

He could barely believe that you, who he thought was too shy to talk about taking it farther in the bedroom, was bouncing on his cock like you’d done it before. Your hands were planted on his shoulders and he could feel as your ass dug itself into his lap before lifting yourself up just to press yourself back down on him. His hands found their way to your ass cheeks and he gave them a harsh slap simultaneously, your head falling to his chest as you winced, followed by a pornographic moan.

Your hips moved like clockwork and he tried to match your pace, lifting his hips up to meet your pussy. The sound of skin against skin, and the smell of the joint made Rafe’s mind think this was what Heaven was, and he would be damned if he didn’t get to experience Heaven with you.

Rafe could tell you were getting tired of the heavy lifting and took the liberty to hold your body with his arm behind your back. He lifted you above him only slightly before he lifted his hips up and down repeatedly to drill his cock into you hard and fast, causing you to moan directly into his ear. He let curses leave his mouth and you said his name like a prayer when you felt himself in you fully, the sound of your wetness coating his cock.

Your third orgasm, his second, was approaching. He pulled your hair back to give himself access to your neck and didn’t bother to be gentle; his mouth left marks on your neck and you encouraged him by begging for his mouth on your skin.

“You gonna come soon, baby?” you asked after regaining your breath, teasing him when you saw his eyes wired shut and his jaw clenched. Rafe’s eyes snapped open and his hand attached itself to your jaw, jerking your head to look into his eyes directly. You laughed seductively and left your mouth hung open when you felt Rafe slow his motions, thrusting into your particularly hard at your choice of words.

“Do you enjoy using me to get yourself off?” he asked in between thrusts. You were barely able to answer and he tightened his grip. “Answer me.”

“Yes,” you struggled to say, looking him directly in the eyes.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he grunted. “Where do you want it, tits or mouth?” You shook your head.

“Inside of me,” you said. “You have to come inside of me, okay? I don’t want to get your car dirty.”

“Fuck,” he said, his voice cracking.

“Baby, I need it so badly,” you coaxed. “All I’ve wanted is your come inside of me and we can’t ruin your car, okay? Can you do that for me, please? Come inside of me?”

Rafe didn’t utter another word. You bit your lip and smiled when you felt his come coat your walls and pushed yourself onto his cock when he let out a loud, deep, and vocal moan in your ear. His chest was pressed against yours and neither of you cared about the heat generated between the two of you. He kept your body close as he orgasmed for the second time and you followed soon after.

He left delicate kisses on your shoulder and you moved your body to ride him slowly, and both of you can feel the cum dripping out of your pussy and onto his cock. Rafe took this opportunity to put his hands back on your ass cheeks and guided you up and down, using your come as lubrication. He could hear the wet sounds and watched you from the rearview mirror as your body moved against him one more time, and he promised the both of he was going to make you come one last time.

The both of you could tell the final round wouldn’t last very long, but neither of you cared. Rafe reached up to press his lips messily against yours and moved your bodies as if they were in sync the entire time. His thrusts were getting sloppy and he could tell your body was getting tired of moving in the same position, which coaxed him to thrust his hips up into you, ignoring the numbing feeling to hear you moan over and over again until you come on his cock, again for the fourth time.

He released inside of you once more and allowed you to calm down to catch your breath. You were the first to move off of him and both of you witnessed the white, creamy mess you had made. Rafe reached down to your pussy once more and used the pads of his fingers to move it in circles against your clit and you moaned in ecstasy until it became too much, and he pulled his hand away before finding a tissue box to clean the both of you up.

The windows are foggy and both of your hand prints are visible. You open the car door to let fresh, cold air enter the space and sigh in relief as he works to clean the mess. When he discards the tissues to the floor of the backseat, promising himself he’d put it in the trash later, Rafe pulls you towards his chest and you lay your head on the free space as he strokes the back of your head and kisses your temple over and over again.

“Didn’t expect that tonight,” Rafe said after regaining his breath with a laugh.

“Me either,” you replied. “I think you fucked the high out of my system.” Rafe chuckled and kissed your forehead, letting his lips linger for a brief moment before pulling away.

“I didn’t know you were thinking about this,” he said, motioning their naked bodies. “I’m glad you trust me enough to tell me.”

You lifted your head and used your hands to cup his jaw and the pads of your thumbs stroked the apples of his cheeks. You nodded slowly and leaned to press a kiss to his lips. It was a short kiss, but Rafe grined when you lean back to look at him.

“You’ll always be my number one, okay?” Rafe noded. “I feel safe with you. I always will.”

“Let’s go back to my place and sleep, yeah?”

***

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#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron #rafe cameron blurbs #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey imagines #drew starkey #drew starkey smut #obx #outer banks #my writing #hotbox

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marvelsswansong · 4 years

Text

Salted Caramel

Summary: Steve’s got anger issues and a bad superiority alpha complex. She smells like salted caramel and coffee, and he’s immediately tamed.

Tags: alpha!Steve, omega!reader, A/B/O dynamics, swearing, no explicit smut but it gets pretty spicy, too much fluff i need to calm down.

Word count: 6K (jesus christ)

a/n: this is genuinely one of my favorite oneshots I’ve ever done. I know a lot of A/B/O fics focus on the smut, so I wanted one that focused more on the fluff. Enjoy.

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“Jesus Christ, Steve!”

The sound of glass shattering rang through the compound, the piercing noise cutting through the monotonous silence and causing Tony to jump up in his seat. It’d been the third time that week that Steve had broken something as a result of his brute strength mixed with his blinding anger, costing Tony and the team fortunes in bandages and repairs.

“Sorry.”

Steve’s apology was muttered quietly, with no remorse behind his words, just an automatic reflex that made it clear that he didn’t mean it. Bruce gave Tony a nervous side-eye from behind his book, not wanting to get involved. Tony and Sam were the only ones on the team who had been brave enough to talk back to and challenge Steve the past few months, when Steve’s anger issues were flaring up more than ever.

“I really don’t feel like buying another 3 inch rimmed glass table, Capsicle.” the billionaire muttered, causing Steve to look up with a murderous glare.

“I said sorry, Tony.” he spat out Tony’s name like a swear, his fists clenching by his sides. Tony sighed, withholding the urge to roll his eyes and returned his gaze onto his phone. Everyone remembered what had happened the last time Tony had kept on mouthing off to Steve- the broken million dollar vase and the splintered wooden column in the meeting room was a reminder of the violence that had occurred as a result.

No one commented on the broken glass laying on the floor as the rest of the team trickled in, each of them carefully side stepping from the glass shards as Natasha quietly cleaned up the mess with a broom. They were unanimously worried about Steve, as the “tiny anger problem” he had was becoming persistent and all consuming the past few months. When Steve first went overboard with his anger - killing a target that they were supposed to subdue and take back to New York - Bucky had reassured them all that Steve was probably just near his rut and a little more stressed than usual. The team bought the excuse, with most of them being alphas and understanding the pure rage and hunger that could wash over alphas near their rut.

But no rut made an alpha act this way.

Steve’s eyes were always a stormy blue, dangerous waves crashing in his irises as he choked the life out of his enemies. He’d gotten much more reckless, quick to jump to conclusions, less forgiving. It never went to the point of him hurting civilians or his teammates- but he was quick to be angered and more often than not he was prone to breaking something in the room due to his uncontrollable temper. It’d gotten so bad that Fury had practically commanded Steve into going into anger management therapy a few weeks ago, bi-weekly sessions which resulted in a calm Steve for a day or two before he jumped back to his old habits.

No one was more worried than Bucky. He was surprised that Steve didn’t strangle Fury yesterday when Fury had slammed his fist down onto the desk and threatened to suspend Steve from missions for a whole month if he “didn’t get his anger in check.” Bucky had to practically wrangle his friend away from the director as Steve stared back with pure hatred and defiance, the anger rolling off of Steve in waves.

“I’m going to the gym.” Steve announced to no one in particular, before disappearing into the elevator. Tony let out a nervous sigh as Steve exited, the atmosphere in the room becoming noticeably more comfortable.

“I swear, I can’t handle much more of this.” Sam commented, crossing his arms. “Those therapy sessions aren’t working and he clearly doesn’t want to listen to any of us….”

“Well what else are we supposed to do? I’d really like to avoid another swing at my face or a broken piece of furniture from his super soldier tantrums.” Tony responded nonchalantly, inspecting his empty cup. Natasha hummed in response from the corner, thinking.

“Wanda’s coming back with Thor from their three month mission in Siberia today, aren’t they? Why don’t we ask Wanda? Considering she’s the only omega on the team.” Natasha suggested.

Everyone nodded. They were running out of options, after all.

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

“I hope she’s hot.”

Tony’s side comment earned him a hard smack from Natasha, one that made Tony pout like a child in response and made Bucky snicker from the back.

“Can you stop being a whore for two seconds, Stark? (Y/n)’s coming here to help us, not to be your personal escort.” Natasha scolded, shaking her head sideways in exasperation. When Wanda had returned from her mission a few days earlier she recommended that they called in a therapist friend of hers who specialized in anger management. Running out of options and figuring she’d be better than the SHIELD mandated psychologist assigned to Steve, they agreed, even getting Fury’s stamp of approval after he conducted an interview with you over the phone.

A ding from the elevator disrupted their conversation, the steel doors sliding open to reveal your figure, struggling with a heavy suitcase as you tumbled forward into the entrance. To Wanda’s amusement, as soon as your omega tinted scent filled the air, all the alphas in the room rushed forward to help you, with Natasha elbowing Tony on the side to help you with your suitcase as Bucky, Thor and Sam argued over who should carry your backpack.

“Wanda!” you called out, running over and hugging your friend. She hugged you back tightly, not having seen you for a full year.

“Thank you so much for coming on such short notice.” Bruce added from the side. He gestured to the bickering alphas in the back and sighed. “Sorry about the rest of the team, they’re so stereotypically alpha it hurts to look at as a beta.”

You shook his concerns off, a small laugh bubbling in your throat.

“It’s absolutely fine, I’ve had to handle much worse alphas.”

Steve heard the commotion from a couple of feet away and made a quick mental note to avoid walking towards the front of the living room, not wanting to have to deal with another nagging comment from Tony or a worried glance from Bucky. He knew he looked like a fucking mess today, deep dark circles under his eyes from a lack of sleep and bruises coloring the gaps between his knuckles from his late night gym sessions, but the strong smell of caramel from the downstairs floor was too good to resist.

Figuring Wanda had baked something while he was sleeping, he checked the oven, only to find it completely empty. The sweet smell had grown even stronger as a pair of footsteps started to approach the kitchen, that intoxicating mix of salted caramel and freshly brewed coffee thick enough to cut through the usual mix of alpha and beta scents from his teammates. His nose twitched as he failed to pick up on the other’s scents- Tony’s mix of aftershave and motor oil or Wanda’s mix of morning rain and sunflowers- as all he could smell was that delicious scent floating in the air.

As you rounded the corner, it finally hit him that he wasn’t smelling some dessert, but that rather the delicious smell was your scent. His senses flared up, and the reaction was immediate upon realization- you were an omega.

“Oh!” you stopped, taken back by the suddenly large alpha blocking your way. Despite clearly having lost sleep and his skin lacking a bit of color, he still looked incredibly handsome and smelled like home- a blend of wintergreen mint and warm pressed laundry. It was a clean, yet comforting scent, and it drew you in in a way you’d never experienced before. Then your brain started to function and you looked down, reminding yourself that you weren't supposed to gawk at your client that way.

“Who are you?” Steve blurted out, coming off as more hostile than he intended to.

“This is (Y/n). She specializes in anger management and she’s here as the team’s therapist. She’s here to help you… and the team out.” Bruce announced for you, carefully analyzing Steve’s reaction.

“Is that okay?” you asked, looking up at him shyly. “I understand this must come as a shock to you, considering I was just hired a few days ago.”

The team held their breath, fully ready for Steve to throw something or go on a three minute rant about how this was “bullshit” and how “he didn’t need any kind of help.” But to their surprise, he just blinked, opening his mouth then slowly closing it as he nodded emotionlessly. Taking that as a win, you smiled, as Sam wrapped an arm around your shoulder.

“Now, pretty lady, I’m assuming you’re going to need a tour around this place, right?”

Sam and Thor fought for your attention as Wanda dragged you away, insisting that as your best friend, she should be the one to give you the tour. The alpha boys followed behind them, carrying your bags, leaving Steve with Natasha and Bruce. Natasha bit her lip nervously, trying to gauge Steve’s feelings, before giving up.

“All right, let me hear it.” she said, surrendering.

“What?” Steve asked, confused. Natasha and Bruce stared at Steve as if he was crazy.

“Aren’t you going to complain about us going behind your back and hiring another therapist?” Natasha questioned.

“Though, I must add, she’s not the overly professional and traditionalist therapist like the one assigned to you by SHIELD a few weeks ago.” Bruce commented. Steve just shrugged, hoping that his teammates couldn’t see just how unnerved and affected he was by just a mere whiff of your scent. His head felt fuzzy and his insides felt warm, the tips of his fingers were tingling.

“No. I think it’s fine. I…. I need to go finish some mission reports now.”

Steve excused himself quickly, grabbing a juice bottle from the fridge and scurrying off to his floor without another word. Bruce looked at Natasha with a puzzled expression and Natasha just sighed, glad that the conversation hadn’t ended with something shattered on the floor.

“Guess it’s already working.”

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

Within the first few months, working as the Avengers’ newly assigned team therapist, you quickly became accustomed to everyone. You’d gotten used to the excessive flirting from Sam and Tony, the midnight talks over tea with Bruce, the occasional movie nights with the girls, and a calming therapy session after brutal missions with Bucky.

The initial nerves that had plagued you when you first started, stemming from the fact that the eternity of the team (minus Bruce, a beta, and Wanda, an omega) were staunch alphas, had quickly disappeared within the first week or so. It hadn’t been particularly the fact that they were alphas that had first scared you, it was rather that in many places in the world, omegas were still seen as second-class to everyone else. Subservient, almost, and many alphas found no problem in degrading and abusing you. Your last boss, despite being a beta, was complacent with the harassment you’d received from your alpha co-workers, claiming that it was “in their blood” to act like that.

To your delight, however, none of the Avengers treated you like that. They made you feel like part of the team, opening up to you in rare vulnerable moments behind closed doors and welcoming you with open arms. Adjustment was quick, and you also quickly learned to tell when one of them was getting too agitated or on the verge of the nervous breakdown, your omega senses being able to notice the slightest shift in their scents. Being an unclaimed omega with a high sensitivity had been proven to be a gift, and Fury was so satisfied with your work that he had ordered you a raise.

The only mystery you hadn’t been able to solve, however, was the very person you were called in to help.

Steve Rogers.

He was quiet and distant, except on missions where he barked orders, completed the tasks and returned back home to write up the reports. You were told that he was less violent and less angry than before, a change that you weren’t sure if you could quite take credit for, but it frustrated you to no end that he was clearly trying to distance himself from you. The longest conversation the two of you had lasted just over a few seconds when you’d bid him good night after passing by him in the library late at night and he’d returned the favour, curtly.

‘Maybe it’s my scent.’ you thought. He always seemed distracted whenever you were in the room, quick to finish up whatever he was doing and leaving the room as soon as you entered. Determined to break through to him, you decided to cover up your scent gland the next time you were around Steve. Maybe wearing a suppressant patch would help, make you more approachable by calming your overwhelming scent. You were sure he wouldn’t even notice.

He definitely did, however. And to make things more complicated, the next time the two of you were in a room together was when all the power in the compound suddenly went out, trapping you and Steve in the gym. Having just walked through the sliding doors, you turned around and tried to force the doors open to no avail.

“That won’t work, (Y/n).” Steve’s voice rang out from the dark. “All the doors here are sensory automated. Won’t open till the power comes back on.”

As if on cue, Tony’s stressed voice filled the room from the intercom.

“Shit, sorry everyone. Thor fucked up something while doing some stupid bet with Sam over his hammer. I’ll have it back up in about half an hour.”

You sighed, leaning against the wall. Great.

“Well this should be fun.” you joked, trying to lighten the mood. Steve was silent, however, and from the small ray of moonlight coming from the gaps in the window, you could see Steve’s large figure trembling.

“Steve?” you whispered, stepping closer. He was clearly scared, his sturdy figure shaking in the darkness as he sunk into the ground. Alarmed, you rushed forward, dropping your gym bag onto the floor. “Are you alright?”

“I… I fucking hate the dark.” he swore, his words coming out in between shaky breaths.

“Is it okay if I touch you?” you asked, carefully analyzing his expressions. He nodded, almost fervently, opening up his arms as you sat down onto your knees and shuffled closer towards him. Gently rubbing circles into his arms and counting down slowly, his nose twitched at the sterile smell of your suppressants, discomfort spreading through his veins.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, stopping your motions upon noticing that he was still shaking.

“Y-you smell different.” he commented, a hint of disdain in his voice.

“Yeah, I’m wearing a suppressant patch.” you replied. He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, his arms tightening around you.

“C-can you take it off? I like your smell.”

He would’ve never asked you to do so with a sound state of mind but in the dark he just blurted out everything he was feeling, having little regard as to having any barriers up around you.

Surprised at his admission but flattered, you quickly peeled off the patch from your neck, exposing your scent gland to the open air once more. Steve’s body relaxed instantly at the sweet smell of caramel and coffee filling his nose once more, a happy growl escaping his lips. His hands tugged you closer towards his body, making you sit in between his legs with your head on his chest, but weirdly, the affectionate gesture didn’t bother you.

“Better?” you questioned quietly, looking up at him. And for the first time in the two months you’d known him, he smiled.

“Much better. I… I know it’s not my place to tell you, but I don’t like it when you wear those suppressant patches.” ‘Or when you’re around other alphas.’ he thought, but he kept the last part of his thought a secret.

“Funny thing is, the whole reason I was wearing them was because I thought you hated my scent.” you commented, concealing an awkward smile.

Steve froze at your admission, his heart breaking at the notion of that even ever being true. His eyes trailed down to you, his gaze soft.

“How could you ever think that, doll?”

You shrugged.

“I mean… you always left the room when I entered it. You never wanted to stick around long enough to have genuinely lengthy conversations. After a while I just assumed my scent must be too overwhelming or disgusting for you to handle, so… I made the decision to start wearing those patches whenever you were around.”

His grip tightened around your frame.

“I’m sorry for being a distant asshole, (Y/n). I just… I didn’t know how to approach you. Everyone in the team was always around you and needed your help and I didn’t want to be another burden.”

“Hey-” you place a hand on his chin, pulling his face downwards. “You’ll never, never be a burden, okay? You’re allowed to have difficult days, you’re allowed to feel bad and have slumps. You don’t ever have to act tough in front of me, okay?”

He smiled.

“Okay.”

The lights came back on at that point and he helped you stand up, his hand warming up your skin with his touch.

“I promise I’ll be less of a stranger from now on… I’m just… I guess I’m not used to being vulnerable.”

You pat him lightly on the arm.

“Well you can always be vulnerable with me, old man.”

That elicited a beautiful laugh from his mouth and you laughed along with him, the long standing ice between the two of you finally broken.

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

Steve was visibly nicer and more relaxed the next day, even going as far as to smile and say “good morning” to Tony as he reached into the refrigerator. Tony’s mouth dropped open in surprise, only being able to muster a reply when Sam smacked him back into reality. Sam chose not to comment on his best friend’s sudden change in behaviour, chalking it up to a rare good day.

Unbeknownst to anyone else on the team, the reason why Steve was in a particularly good mood that day was because a few hours after the lights came back on, you came into his room and read him a book to help him fall asleep. Having alternated between no sleep and 3 hour blocks of sleep for the past few weeks, it was a godsend, your sweet smell filling in the air as your voice dripped honey with each word you spoke. He was knocked out within five minutes, and the room still smelled like you when he woke up.

He would never say it out loud, but your scent really did something to him. No matter how bad of a mood he was in, the slightest whiff of your scent immediately warmed up his nerves and settled any sort of tension in his stomach. It was addictive and comforting, and he soon was making any excuse to come see you.

Over the next four months, the team member you spent the most amount of time with was Steve, whether that be because he was asking you to relieve some stress with him in the gym room after midnight or to have a discussion about a recent mission over hot chocolate in the balcony. Steve was nervous that the other members would notice, particularly as he was cutting into other members’ time slots with you, but no one seemed to mind. They all chalked it up as you doing a great job, and if anything, they were glad that the old Steve was starting to return.

If he was being honest to himself, it wasn’t just some biological pull that had him yearning for your presence everyday. He’d slowly began to crave your presence for your mannerisms, your jokes and your sweet face that lit up with a smile every time you came around. He’d slowly started to push the envelope, too, pushing the boundary between client and therapist everyday, but you never stopped him. It warmed his heart to see that you’d never sit on Tony’s lap or thread your fingers through Bucky’s hair to calm him down, those affectionate gestures were strictly reserved for him.

Steve even suspected that maybe it was because you liked him back. An absurd thought, but a small part of him could hope. Though he was continuously oblivious, you felt the same way, unconsciously but unquestionably stretching the rules to be a bit closer to Steve. To feel his skin on yours, to breathe in his unique scent every night. Technically constant skin contact wasn’t necessary for your form of therapy but you could never resist it when he asked you, his baby blue eyes cutting through the dark, glimmering with hope. You figured it wasn’t that big of a deal- you were still being professional, after all, you were still helping Steve- until that question was dropped on you.

Steve had texted you on the plane ride back home that the mission had been brutal, with a few civilian casualties on the line. Two of them kids, he said. The moment he was off the plane he opened his arms and you jumped into his embrace, your arms locking around his neck and your legs tightening around his waist as he breathed in your familiar scent. As he carried you away into his room, the rest of the team gawked at the sight, not used to seeing Steve ever be so affectionate or carefree after a brutal mission. Ever.

A few hours later and a heated discussion between the team members in secret in the living room that could be heard from three floors down, Sharon confronted you with that question while you were looking at something in the library. Sharon was a beta who came and went through the compound, and every time she was around Wanda insisted that she didn’t like you. You brushed off Wanda’s concerns, but Wanda was adamant, claiming that Sharon was clearly infatuated with Steve and that she didn’t enjoy seeing you be so close to Steve all the time.

“Are you dating Steve?” Sharon asked suddenly, her tone hostile. You laughed nervously, her glare burning holes into your head.

“No, why would you think that?”

She raised her eyebrows at your comment, not buying into your naivety.

“Really? I heard that you jumped into his arms after his mission tonight. And do you really think no one has noticed how much one-on-one time you’ve been spending with Steve.” she spat out, tapping her feet on the floor.

Your eyes widened at her accusation, you had no idea that people were perceiving you and Steve that way.

“No, I mean… we haven’t done anything, gosh. He’s just… a needy client. And as a therapist, it’s my job to make sure he’s emotionally stable and happy. He just requires more affection and time than others.”

She rolled her eyes at your response.

“Really? Well how come I don’t see you jumping into Bucky’s arms or reading Thor bedtime stories?” Sharon pressed. You opened your mouth to argue then closed it, realization dawning upon you. “Not to mention that if you’re really not dating him, that means you’re violating the therapist-client professionalism rules embedded into your contract, aren’t you?”

The sudden threat of possibly being fired dawned on you at that moment, a possibility that hadn’t crossed your mind until Sharon had brought it up.

“I… I guess you’re right. I don’t want to lose my job.” you trailed off, unsure. You loved working here and considering you’d been fired for doing far less as an omega, you didn’t want to risk it. Sharon’s gaze suddenly turned sympathetic, as she rested her hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, I’m just saying. I’m not going to tell you how to do your job, but there are talks going around the tower that you might get fired for unprofessionalism if you continue.”

Thanking Sharon for her honesty, you quickly rushed out of the library and marched up to Steve’s floor and knocked on the door, every passing moment heightening your anxiety. He opened the door with one swift movement, and his smile brightened at the sight of you.

“Oh (Y/n), hi-”

“Steve, I’m so sorry.”

His smile dropped, confusion creeping onto his face at your sudden apology.

“For what?”

“We can’t keep doing all… this-” you gestured to the gap between the two of you. “It’s not professional and I should’ve stopped it at the beginning but I didn’t, and now people think we’re dating and… it’s all a mess. I-I mean, I could’ve been fired. I shouldn’t have jumped into your arms today, um, it’s not professional as your therapist, I’m sorry.” you rambled, avoiding his gaze.

Steve nervously swallowed, his chest starting to feel heavy at your rant.

“N-no, I… It’s my fault, too. I was the one who started this whole thing from that day when the power went out in the gym. I… I pressured you into giving in and acting unprofessionally.” he added quietly, forcing the words out his mouth. You relaxed at his response, a small smile on your face.

“Great, so… I mean, obviously you can still come to me and we can still talk but I can’t give you any more special treatment. You… you understand, right?”

The words tasted bitter in his mouth, but he forced it out anyways.

“Right.”

“Great… Still friends though, right? You’re not going to disappear on me?” you teased quietly, punching him lightly on the shoulder. Steve ignored the pang in his heart and gave you a pained smile, nodding.

“Still friends.”

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

Steve’s personality did a full 180 overnight. Granted, he didn’t go back to his temperamental, object throwing, aggressive past self. Instead, he was visibly sulky, dragging his feet around on the floor and forcing smiles and kind comments throughout the day. No one knew why- FRIDAY had told them that Steve was still regularly meeting up with you for therapy sessions- and you distracted yourself from paying too much attention to Steve, filling up your time with other clients and burying yourself in more reading. Even Fury had raised his eyebrow when you’d appeared at his office and asked for more work, a curious look on his face as he handed a dozen folders over to you.

You didn’t have the guts to admit to him or to yourself that you were doing all this to distract from the pit in your stomach from missing Steve, of missing the cuddle sessions in his bed as he talked his feelings out, of missing the calm, weirdly domestic midnight baking in the kitchen between just the two of you. The hot embarrassment of your previous unprofessionalism paired with your guilt for missing those moments forced you to bury yourself further into your work, even going as to keep your questions strictly professional and brief during every session you had with Steve.

That said, outside of those sessions, you tried to be friendly and tried to rekindle the comfortable friendship between the two of you, but he was back to being cold, distant and quiet. And it hurt you more than you would like to admit.

“Are you okay, sunshine?” Wanda asked carefully, noticing that you were more quiet than usual. Her question broke you out of your worried thoughts and you flashed her a quick smile, shrugging off her worries.

“Y-yeah, Wanda. I’m fine.”

Steve was doing no better, beating the fifth punching bag of the night. His knuckles were already sore and bleeding from the repeated impact of his skin onto the bag, but he had no intention of stopping. He hated himself for falling for you, when it could never be, he hated that he didn’t have the fucking balls to just go up to you and say he wanted to claim you. He’d also recently started to notice that your scent was starting to be clouded by the others’ scents as you spent more time with the team, and he fucking hated it.

He was so close to losing it, and Sharon’s excessive flirting wasn’t making it any better. He only had eyes for you, after all. A few more punches to the bag and it fell with a heavy bang onto the floor, the stuffing on the inside spilling out from the final brutal punch he’d landed onto the bag. Breathing heavily, he decided to call it a day, and head downstairs for breakfast.

“Bucky, jesus, stop it-”

The sound of your giggle rang through the floor as Steve stepped off the elevator, your scent suddenly fragrant and intoxicating from the pure joy you were experiencing. But it wasn’t just salted caramel and coffee, it was mixed with… something else. Leather and burnt wood? He rounded the corner to see you being chased by Bucky, him shirtless and you wearing Bucky’s shirt, explaining the mix of scents.

And all Steve could see was red.

All the anger management therapy and the progress he made went out the fucking window at the sight of his best friend clearly having had sex with his girl, with her even wearing his shirt afterwards, and Steve was marching up to Bucky with no second thought.

“Oh hey Stevie, what’s up-” Bucky managed to dodge the swing thrown at him at the last second, Steve’s steely gaze unwavering as he tried to land another punch on his best friend. All he could think about was the fact that Bucky KNEW how he felt about you, Bucky KNEW how crazy he was about you, and Bucky had gone behind his back and fucked you.

“FUCKING HELL, STEVE, WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM-” Bucky yelled, blocking another punch, only to be kneed in the stomach. You ran in between the two of them as Steve let out a sinister chuckle, his growl unnerving and deep.

“Don’t act so innocent, Bucky.”

“STOP IT, STEVE.” you yelled, holding your arms in front. Steve gave you a murderous glance.

“Don’t act so innocent either, (Y/n). I thought you said you couldn’t compromise your professionalism? Guess that doesn’t apply to Bucky, huh?”

“Steve what the fuck are you talking about?” you asked, exasperated.

“You fucked Bucky, you’re wearing his shirt-”

You cut him off with a frustrated sigh, throwing your hands up in the air.

“Jesus christ, Steve! We didn’t fuck. Sam and Bucky were having another prank war and he accidentally mixed up my shirt load with Sam’s and ended up shrinking all of MY shirts. So I stole his shirt until he could get me some new ones with Tony’s credit card.” you explained, frustrated tears welling up in your eyes. All of Steve’s anger dissipated in that moment, dread and guilt filling his core at your confession. You let out a broken laugh, your heart bubbling with frustration.

“I- I really can’t fucking get you, Steve. First you never want to talk to me, then we get close, then we agree to be professional and now you’re back to being cold and anger-prone, even going as far as to try to PUNCH your best friend? Fuckin hell, Steve. Don’t I deserve more respect than that, at the very least? As your FRIEND? As the team THERAPIST? I swear, it’s like you WANT me to quit.” you stormed off with that, not sparing Steve another glance before disappearing into the elevator.

Steve stared after you, the sensation of guilt punching his stomach as Bucky slowly stood up. Steve looked like a puppy who’d been kicked, and Bucky felt a little sorry for his best friend. After all, Steve had gotten the impression that Bucky had gone behind his back and had sex with you.

“Buck, I-”

Bucky shook his head sideways, a small smile on his face.

“Nah, no need. Alpha hormones and anger never did work out for you… The person you need to apologize to is (Y/n), not me. She’s the best thing to happen to you AND this team. Don’t let her get away. No more running, no more excuses.”

He places a hand on Steve’s shoulder and smiles.

“Let yourself be happy for once.”

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

There’s a hesitant knock on your door as you’re mid-packing your suitcase, hot shame, anger and sadness mixing in your chest.

“(Y/n)-”

You ignore Steve’s please to open the door and continue to pack, not wanting to hear his excuse. You tell yourself repeatedly that you’re not going to crumble, you’re not going to open the door, and then he calls out to you.

“Omega, please.”

You bite your lip, resisting the pull. But your body moves before your brain does and you find yourself opening the door, revealing Steve standing there with slouched shoulders and a guilty expression on his face. His mouth opens to blurt out an apology but he’s lost for words when he sees the mess of fabric behind you, and his mouth runs dry.

“You’re… you were serious about quitting?”

You clench your jaw and cross your arms, your anger still unwavering.

“Yeah. What other options do I have left when you won’t treat me like the others?”

He’s silent for a moment before he responds.

“You’re right. I don’t treat you like the others. Because I don’t think of you like the others.”

That just makes you angrier.

“Why? Because I’m an omega? An unclaimed omega, unlike Wanda who’s claimed by Vision?” you challenge, insulted. His eyes widen at your response and he’s quick to shoot you down.

“No, no, I mean- fuck. I’m just going to come out and say it. I’m crazy about you, doll. You have me in the palm of your hands and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Your scent, fuck, it drives me crazy and the thought of you with another alpha makes my skin crawl-” he starts, stepping closer.

You stop him mid-talk and place your hand on his chest, lightly pushing him away.

“How do you know it’s not just your biological senses kicking in? You’re a lonely alpha, Steve. This could just be your biological side talking.”

“It’s not.” he interrupts you, his voice clear with conviction. “It’s not because there’s plenty of unclaimed omegas in this tower. But none of them compare to your… your wit, your heart, your beauty…” He pushes you up against the wall, and scents you again. “And your fucking scent, jesus.”

Your resolve crumbles in his hands and you smile shyly.

“Promise it’s not just the alpha in you talking?”

He smiles back.

“Promise. Just Steve Rogers. The same lonely kid who doesn’t know how to process his emotions and ask pretty girls out.”

“Okay, good.” you respond, giggling.

“I like you so fucking much, omega, it’s kind of scary.” he admits to himself, whispering his confession onto your skin. Your smile widens.

“Then I guess I won’t be quitting, alpha.” you respond softly. He nods eagerly and presses his lips onto yours, his hands immediately moving to grab at your waist. He’s delighted to find out that you taste as sweet as you smell, your lipgloss carrying an underlying cherry taste that’s tarte and tasty on his tongue.

“Claim me.” you whisper against his lips and he smiles.

“Of course. But first-” he rips the shirt off of your body, causing you to squeal at the sudden force. “Need that fucking shirt off of you. Can’t stand smelling Bucky’s scent on you.”

“You’re mine.” he aggressively growls. Then his eyes soften and he stares into your eyes, looking for a confirmation. “You’re mine, right?” The question is half-hesitant and he’s scared, scared that you’re going to reject him. But you just kiss him softly and nod, smiling.

“Yours.”

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a/n 2: hope you guys enjoyed! loved writing it. please leave a comment below or like/reblog if you enjoyed it <3

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wendimydarling · 3 years

Text

Please Don’t Leave Me

Title: Please Don’t Leave Me

Summary: Talking about our past is not easy. What happens when it’s finally time to share what you’ve been through with Henry?

Pairing: Henry x First Person Reader

Word Count: 1635

Warnings: Angst; mention of being yelled at, personal hurt, self-harm, attempted suicide, emotional neglect, parental abuse, beginning stages of a panic attack, anxiety, depression, loneliness, and fear of abandonment. (If there’s anything I missed, just let me know and I’ll add it).

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY FREYA! I know it’s next week, but I’ll be off Tumblr because it falls on Thanksgiving this year. You asked me for this fic and I wanted to do right by you, as you’ve done so much for me. I love you, bish!

It had been a rough day. And not just your typical rough, I’m talking the kind of rough where you spill your coffee all over your blouse in the car, end up being late for work, forget your lunch, and get yelled at by the boss kind of rough. The kind of rough where every traumatizing past event in your life comes bubbling to the surface. The kind of rough where you want nothing more than to crawl back into your bed and sleep for seven years, and it’s only nine-thirty in the morning.

The one saving grace I held on to as I counted down the minutes of my shift was that Henry would be home tonight, waiting for me. God, I don’t know how I got so lucky, but somehow that kind and gentle soul had seen through the cracked and broken wall that I kept as my only defense mechanism, and had chosen me anyway. He knew some of my past and pain, but I hadn’t opened up about everything; I wasn’t ready to lose him, and I knew he’d be out the door once he heard it all. Just like everyone else. Perhaps that was selfish of me, but for once in my life, I knew what it felt like to be loved, and I was soaking in every ounce I could of that sweet nectar before it was gone.

Finally, finally, my work day was over. I headed to his place as fast as I safely could, anxious and burdened with unwelcome memories. The delicious smell of roast flooded my nostrils as I opened the door and Kal came bounding over. I noticed as I toed off my pumps and tamed the wild beast that Henry had built a fire, and gratitude filled my heart. He always seemed to know exactly what I needed, sometimes even before I did. I headed toward the kitchen, following my nose.

“Hey love,” Henry smiled wide, already pouring me a glass of red. He swallowed me in a warm embrace, his chin planted on the top of my head, and my body tucked firmly in his arms. I melted, sinking into the security of his hug and letting the stress of the previous hours wash away. I was here, he was home, and I was safe.

We ate quietly, talking here and there about random facts or tidbits. I pushed the food around on my plate, taking a bite here and there to satisfy Henry but I could sense him watching me carefully; his concern was evident, but he covered it well, masking it with simple questions or well-timed caresses. Even so, his next question caught me off guard, my fork halfway to my mouth.

“Will you tell me about it?”

The silverware clattered to the plate, forgotten in my fear. This is it, I thought, tonight’s the night I lose him forever. My chest constricted and I could feel the panic slowly rising, tears welling and threatening to spill. Henry quickly grabbed my hand and shushed me, cupping my face in nurturing kindness.

“You don’t have to,” he comforted, and I closed my eyes, exhaling the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. Henry soothed his thumb over my cheek before pulling me onto his lap, cradling my head in his large hands. I burrowed deep into his chest, letting his scent wash over me in calming waves.

“I just want to help,” I heard Henry whisper. I sighed; he was right, it was time for him to know. I looked up at him, staring at that beautiful face that held so much promise. A face that said so much in just a look, with eyes that sparkled like the heavens whenever they landed on me. Once again, I wondered why his eyes looked like that when it was me they were viewing, but I shoved it aside. Self-deprecation would not help, not right now. Nodding softly, I tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out. I couldn’t tell him, not out loud. I dropped my head in defeat.

Henry shifted me off his lap, grabbing my hand and walking us to his desk. He sat in his gaming chair and patted his thigh, tugging on my arm. I hesitated, confused.

“Come here, love,” he encouraged, guiding me to sit. With both of us facing the computer, he opened a word document and offered me the keyboard.

“If you’re unable to say it out loud,” Henry crooned in my ear, kissing softly under my lobe, “Then write it. I’ll read it as you type, and neither of us has to say anything.”

This man. I swear to god. Relief flooded through me, though anxiety pounced instantly as I was reminded that once we were done, he would be gone. No one else had stayed, my problems were much too great... Why should he be the one to bear the burden of me? I took a deep breath anyway and eyed the screen, my fingertips trembling over the instrument of my demise.

Where should I even begin? Should I go all the way back to the beginning, to my birth? How I was nothing but a mistake, and every day I was reminded as such? Or maybe I should tell him what the scars are from? Perhaps I should simply tell him about failed relationship after failed relationship, both romantic and non. Those are all fun tales, I had no doubt he’d love to hear all about them. Maybe he wanted to know the amount of times I’ve come close to admitting defeat and ending everything. Spoiler alert… that number’s higher than it should be.

I swallowed thickly and began typing, slow and hesitant words forming on the page. Every thought was carefully constructed, worked over in my mind at least five times before I allowed it to leave my fingers. Henry’s comforting arms were wrapped tightly around my waist, his chin nestled on my shoulder as he read what I shared. Tears slowly brimmed in my eyes, kept at bay only by sheer force of will. Each stroke of a key sounded like a hammer hitting the nails in our relationship’s inevitable coffin; surely he wouldn’t, couldn’t love me after this. No one could. It’s simply too much for anyone to bear, too awful… too hard.

And yet in my ear were the sounds of something different. Encouraging grunts, empathetic hums. Henry kept his promise, he never said a word except for one small sigh of “oh, love” as I hit a particularly difficult moment. His hands rubbed my sides, kisses left tiny wet imprints on my cheek, and every now and then he would squeeze tighter, small reassurances to keep going.

The words started pouring out of me. I couldn’t have stopped myself if I tried; Every struggle, every loss, every tiring moment; every single thing that had ever happened to me found its way into that document in a flurry of clacking plastic. My hands moved of their own free will and the tears started to flow; long, silent trails of pain releasing years worth of pent up anger and hurt. The salty drops fell onto Henry’s forearms but he just left them there, rooted to his task of protecting me. I would miss how safe I felt in the protection of his arms.

The final sentence fell out of my hands, and I immediately turned and buried my face into Henry’s shoulder, bitter sobs wracking my frame as I clung to his neck.

“Please don’t leave me,” I begged, ashamed of myself for being so needy and undesirable. I expected him to untangle himself from my arms, to get up and open the door to excuse me from his home. To force me to leave his life and never return.

The last thing I expected was for him to burst out laughing.

I snapped my head up and stared at him in horror, which only made him laugh harder.

“I’m so sorry,” he wheezed, “I really shouldn’t be laughing. It’s just… I know why you think I would leave you, it’s all right there on the computer, but you have nothing to worry about.”

Henry wiped his eyes and mine and cupped my face, still chuckling.

“You think so little of yourself that you can’t see just how worthy you are,” he murmured, adoration and mirth mingling in his eyes as he tucked my hair behind my ear. I furrowed my brow and pressed my face into his palm, relishing the cooling sensation of calm that his skin brought.

“I know what it’s like to feel how you do,” Henry went on softly, “To feel unwanted and undeserving. But I’m not going to walk away from a flower as strong, as rare, and as beautiful as you just because she’s got a few bruises. I love you just the way you are.”

His admonition shocked the both of us. He loves me? I tried to process what he’d just said, but my mind was raw and I couldn’t think straight. He loves me.

“Yes, I love you,” Henry repeated as though he could read my thoughts, clasping my jaw and looking me straight in the eye. “I love you, and I’m not going anywhere… I’m not going to leave you.”

I smiled widely as tears spilt over once more, happiness bursting from my heart. With anyone else I’d be doubtful, I’d have hightailed it on my own after a proclamation like that before the other shoe dropped... before they could hurt me worse. But this wasn’t anyone else, this was Henry. And being with him made me brave, which is why I found words leaving my lips that I never thought I’d ever say again.

“I love you, too.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#henry cavill #henry cavill fic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill rpf #angst #fluff #birthday fic #littlefreya

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darylsgirl · 3 years

Text

You take my breath away - Teaser

A/N - Hey guys! here's a teaser of something I've been working on not sure if i should continue with this, It hasn't got any smut yet but will do if i continue on it. Please please please leave me a comment and let me know what you think! Apologies for any mistakes i haven't edited this or read it over!

Love Jen :)

He was the most incredible looking man you had ever seen, Walking through the gates with that possum in his hand, He was definitely a little disheveled, Looked like he was in serious need of a shower but gorgeous nonetheless. Your mouth going dry the moment you saw him, Feeling the now unfamiliar fluttering in your stomach as he walked by you, Not sparing a second glance in your direction.

His eyes alert and suspiciously taking in his surroundings, You watched as he handed his crossbow over, Fingers twitching as it was moved further away from him. Aaron leading them to Deana’s house. Where they will no doubt be being interviewed on camera, Just like all the newcomers were. Just like you had been three months before, Looking over the others in the group seeing their wary eyes the exhaustion showing through the cracks in their demeanor.

Letting out the breath you weren’t aware you had been holding you watched them disappear around the corner. As you were turning to go back into the house you were stopped by Olivia. Rushing from the direction the strangers had gone, a huge basket full of linens in her arms.

“Hey Y/N Are you busy? Any chance you can give me a hand? Deana has asked me to set up the two houses down the street for the new guys” Looking at you with those hopeful puppy dog eyes, She knew there was no way you could say no to her.

“Fineeee, But Jessie’s helping too!” You groaned turning back towards her and down the front steps.

“Thank you Y/N! Jessie’s already there loading some supplies into the cupboards” Her pace was getting faster now, Half running to keep up with her frantic walk you let her continue.

“Could you please start on the beds, That would be a HUGE help. Here take this” Offloading the basket to you she turned back towards the garage that held all of the town's supplies.

“I’m going to grab some more linen, I'll be back in a few!”

Groaning again at the weight of the basket you walked up the steps of the house Olivia had specified. Spotting Jessie in the kitchen immediately.

She laughed at your sour expression “She roped you into this too?” You nodded in reply carrying the basket up the stairs and starting in the first room you came too.

Picking up the first bundle of sheets, Finding a little note attached ‘Single’ Pushing them to one side you picked up the next ‘Double’ Taking the note off and putting it back in the basket you made your way to the bed. Pulling the sheets on and making the bed easily you continued into the other three bedrooms upstairs, Finding one set of double sheets remaining.

Walking down the stairs you passed Jessie again in the Kitchen, Stopping for a moment you took a glass of water from her mumbling your thanks, “Just the basement left! Has she come back yet?”

“Mhmm She left that for you” pointing to a basket of towels. “And she said she’s left the next bunch of sheets and towels in the next house ready”

“And what pray tell is olivia doing while she’s got me sweating like a Whore in Church”

Jessie choked a little on her water trying to suppress her giggle at your words. “Beats me! Tried to ask her, She ran off looking very important” She giggled again.

“Best get on before she finds more jobs for me!” Jessie agreed to grab the towels and put them into each bathroom, Snagging two from her you took it down to the basement with you.

This place was lucky really, There had been a hotel nearby that was just about to open as all hell broke loose that had stacks of linens, Plates and silverware. Enough to fully stock this place for a long time.

It seemed silly to you at first for this to be a huge concern but the longer you stayed here and the more you got used to the little comforting things like the Clean bedding and actual utensils the more important it had started to feel. It made you feel normal, Civilised. Like the world hadn’t just thrown a tantrum. Sure it never lasted very long but the comfort you got from these little things was priceless.

Once you had finished the bed down stairs you and Jessie made your way over to the second house repeating the jobs, Smiling as you left. Hopefully the comfort the little things had on you would also reassure and comfort the new guys. If only just a little. Being out there for so long yourself you knew how hard it would be for them to adapt.

When Aaron had first brought you through the gates you thought you must have died. Everything was so….Normal, The houses all pristine. All happy smiling faces welcoming you to the neighbourhood. It had taken you a week to speak, Sometimes you still weren’t sure if it was real at all, Maybe this is where your consciousness goes when you were walking around as one of those dead but not dead freaks.

Walking back home you spotted Olivia, Saluting her “All done El capitan!” She laughed as you walked by purposely not slowing in case she thought of another job for you.

Sinking back into your couch and grabbing the book you had discarded earlier when the commotion at the gate started, You had been out hunting the day before, Which meant today you could take the next few days easy.

Reading the Hobbit for the millionth time, You easily slipped back into that familiar world, Only stopping when it got too dark to see the words on the page. The next day was much the same head straight back into your book escaping the real world as long as you could. Not realising how long you had been sat there, The sun was low on the horizon when you were pulled from your favourite book.

Opening the door you were greeted by a smiling Aaron. “Hey Y/N I can’t stay gotta get back to Eric, Deana is throwing a welcome party for the new guys, Since you’re our newest person besides them, She is pretty insistent you attend!”

Rolling your eyes “Insistent hm? I think I’ll give it a miss..But thanks for the invite!” Trying to shut the door hoping this conversation was over when the door was stopped on his foot.

“C’mon Y/N a little more socialising won’t kill you! You’ve managed to come out of your shell to me Jessie and now Olivia! A few more wouldn’t hurt right?”

The puppy dog eyes. How did every fucker in here know that was your weak spot.

“Ughhhhh Finee! Only if you're going to be there?” He nodded happily turning and stopping on the steps “See you at 8 wear something pretty” He winked, Taking off before you could change your mind.

Pretty? You weren’t even sure you owned anything that could be classed as pretty. Storming upstairs like a toddler having a tantrum you stripped quickly showering the sweat from yourself before stepping out wrapping the fluffy towel around you.

Walking over to your closet you pulled at the pile of dresses you had haphazardly thrown to the bottom of the closet when you had moved in, Never thinking in this new world there would be a place for pretty dresses.

Separating the sizes you pulled the few that would fit you to one side throwing the rest back in a heap again. Holding them up to your chest you decided on a black figure hugging one with a slit up one side. You guessed this would be kind of functional too. The slit certainly gave you enough room to move if you needed to. Picking up a pair of almost matching wedges you threw them both on the bed. Turning your attention to your hair as you tried to tame it.

It was a shame this new world didn’t include bloody straighteners. Groaning at yourself you couldn’t believe that had just crossed your mind. There were more important things to worry about besides your hair!

Running the brush through it once more, It would do. Your mother certainly would be happy. She loved your naturally wavy curls. You felt the twang in your heart as you remembered her, She had lasted 6 months after the fall before one wrong step sent her into the arms of a walker taking her from you. Rubbing your eyes gently. No you wouldn’t cry, If she was here now she’d be giving you an earful about it, Demanding you enjoy your night and your freedom.

Looking over at the tiny clock on the side 8:15 shit you were late. Pulling the dress over your head and heels on your feet you spared your reflection one last look smoothing the dress down on your stomach nervously. You can do this. It’s only people right?

Slowly descending the stairs and making your way out the door, Your feet dragging as you headed closer to the party. Stopping outside the door, Hearing the laughter from the other side.

Before you knew what you were doing you were spinning back around back up the street when a light fell over you.

“Sneaking away before they can see you huh Y/N?” Giving him a guilty look.

“I tried… Tried and failed. Oh well maybe next time!” You chuckled.

“Oh hey, Daryl right?” Turning and following Aaron’s gase you spotted him again. So the possum guy’s name was Daryl.

Giving him a small smile “I guess those kinda things aren’t for you either?”

Not quite looking at you he gave a non committal grunt.

Deciding to take Aaron’s earlier advice, Taking a deep breath.

“You eaten? I’m making spaghetti if you're hungry?” He shrugged again.

“C’mon, She makes some pretty serious spaghetti” Aaron teased, raising his eyebrow at you.

“Guess I could eat” He mumbled, still looking more at his feet than you. Aaron gave you a wink as he went back inside giving you both a wave before shutting the door.

“C’mon it’s this way. Just down from your house. I guess you could say we’re neighbours” He fell into step with you still staying quiet the entire way. As you opened the front door you looked backwards seeing Daryl looking between your open door and his own house.

“Come in, Food won’t be long!” Holding the door open Daryl finally made his decision, his feet carrying him swiftly up the stairs and inside. Flicking the lights on as you followed him.

“Kitchen’s that way, I’ll get you a drink. Whiskey ok?” He finally looked at you.

“You guys have Whiskey?” A shocked expression crossing his face. “Yeah i found it out there still unopened a while back, I was saving it for a special occasion, But shh don’t tell olivia or she’ll add it to that list of hers!” He gave you a small smile as you poured a glass for each of you passing it to him.

“Make yourself at home! I’ll get this started” He took a seat at the breakfast bar rolling the glass around in his hands whilst you busied yourself in the kitchen pulling out everything you would need and quickly getting it started.

Turning back to the breakfast bar you grabbed the loaf of bread slicing a few pieces and covering them in some oil and wild garlic you had found on your hunt yesterday. Popping them into the oven. He spoke again “Why’s it a special occasion?” He mumbled.

Grinning at him and taking a sip of your whiskey. “It’s not everyday I get to cook my serious spaghetti for just anyone!”

You could see the blush rising in his cheeks as he took a long swig of his whiskey. You leant over to top his glass off, Before turning to the cupboards and grabbing placemats, Plates and cutlery.

“Here let me do that” He tried as he moved towards you.

“Absolutely not! My mother would roll over in her grave if she knew i put a guest to work” Smiling sadly as your mother popped into your head again. Setting the table.

Turning your attention back to your meal you strained the pasta, Popping it into a dish before dishing up the sauce too. Taking them back to the table and returning to the oven to fish the garlic bread out.

Once everything was on the table you both took a seat. Reaching over you served him a large portion popping a few pieces of garlic bread on his plate before serving yourself.

“Dig in” You insisted before turning back to your plate. He watched you take the first few mouthfuls before reaching for his own fork.

After a few minutes of silence you spoke up again “So what do you think of Alexandria?”

“I think it ain’t real”

“I thought that for a long time, Hell I’m still not convinced and I’ve been here 3 months”

“So your not...uh...Not from here. Like the others”

“I’m from out there I guess. Asheville Georgia originally”

His eyes went wide at this “Me too, Sorta. Lived up near the mountains in Georgia”

A huge grin crossing your face “So we’ve always been neighbours then! How strange that we would meet here in DC! We must have been in the same places a thousand times! I used to go hunting in the mountains with my daddy”

He shrugged “Alotta my group from near there, We met in Atlanta……” he trailed off mumbling “Ya wouldn’t have noticed someone like me anyway”

Trying to get him to meet your eyes over the table, “Oh i most definitely would have noticed YOU Daryl”

He cleared his throat awkwardly, the tops of his ears peeking through his shaggy hair going beet red, his face lowered, he turned his attention back to his food.

Realising you had probably gone too far, Afterall you didn’t really know anything about this man, You had only seen him once yesterday morning before tonight, You weren’t even sure if he was single. Or straight for that matter. Trying to ease the awkwardness that had now descended in the room you tried a quick change of conversation.

“How are your group feeling about being here? Did you and your partner manage to sleep okay?” Hoping your not so subtle way of asking him if he were single wouldn’t be too obvious.

“Partner? Rick’s the Cop not me” He grumbled. Okay maybe not as obvious as you first thought.

You shook your head slightly, his obliviousness was strangely endearing, “Sorry no i meant your girlfriend, Wife” When he didn’t reply straight away you figured you must have missed the mark. “Boyfriend?” You questioned.

He snorted at this “I ain’t gay, Aint got no woman either” Not able to contain the gleeful smile on your face. Not that it would matter his eyes were fully trained on his meal as he started devouring it quicker, Reaching for his glass he drained the remaining dregs of the whiskey.

“Oh really? I thought for sure you’d have been snapped up by now!”

The blush returning to his face again he gave you a noncommittal grunt, Waiting a moment you realised he wasn’t going to answer. Not much of a talker. You were probably being too pushy, Small talk was hard to do after seeing the things he no doubt had seen out there, The things that man had probably had to do just as you had, Suppressing the shudder that threatened to run through you as your mind conjured up the images.

Standing quickly you walked back to the kitchen grabbing the bottle and refilling his glass and in turn your own.

Taking a deep gulp of the whiskey and then quickly finishing your own meal in silence, Both finishing your meal at the same time, Daryl raises the plate to his mouth to scrape the last bits of pasta into his mouth.

“Still hungry? There’s plenty more if you would like some more?”

Shaking his head no “ ‘M good.” He grunted. Taking his plate from him and collecting your own you took them into the kitchen dropping them in the sink you turned to retrieve the serving bowls, Almost crashing straight into Daryl, Your hands flinching up and landing on his chest steadying yourself.

He caught the bowl just in time surprisingly before any of the remaining food managed to spill on the floor.

Feeling the blush on your cheeks now as your hands lingered a moment longer than they should have done, Enjoying the firmness of his muscular chest under your fingers.

Dropping your arms to your sides. “I’m sorry! Thank you, Let me take that” Taking the bowl and turning your beetroot red face away from him you found a tupperware box in the cupboard filling it with the leftovers before turning to the sink and washing the dishes.

When you turned back to him he was watching you silently, Studying you it seemed.

Picking your glass back up you motioned to him “Should we finish the bottle or do you have somewhere to be?”

When he made no move to leave you picked up the bottle and motioned towards the living room letting him follow behind you, Taking a seat you finally kicked your uncomfortable heels off, Your feet instantly throbbing grateful to be out of their confines.

Propping your feet up on the coffee table in front of you, You sank back into the plush cushions behind you with a happy groan, Daryl stood awkwardly next to the couch glass hanging from his fingertips gasing at you with a softness in his eyes, The redness rising again in cheeks once he realised you had caught him gazing at you.

Smiling at his warmly “No need to stand on ceremony, Take a seat” Patting the chair next to you from emphasis. “More?” You asked, shaking the bottle at him. Taking it from you he filled his own glass before turning to yours and topping yours up also.

Clearing his throat awkwardly. “So...Are ya people here too?”

Dropping your eyes from him you shook your head sadly “Just me…They’re all gone….” The alcohol was taking over your words as you mumbled “Shouldn’t have been me…” Feeling a tear escape your eye as you thought about the countless lives you had watched taken before their time. People who would have been the greatest asset in this new world...Gone, Some died saving you. For what.. They should have let you die.

Pulling your mind from those thoughts, It didn’t do anyone any good to dwell! Wiping the tear quickly from your cheek grabbing your drink and gulping it down in one.

Turning back to Daryl you shifted a non convincing smile back to your face.

“How about you? Your group seems very close almost like a…”

Finishing your sentence for you “A family…...Ya know i look around and i think about the people that are gone, And the people that are still here and it aint right...Aint fair..But yer gotta keep goin for em”

Smiling at Aaron’s name “Yeah i wouldn’t be here either if it wasn’t for him and Eric, They’re good people. Most of the people here are good people. Too innocent to the world as it is yes, But good people..”

After sitting in silence for a few moments when Daryl broke the silence. “Well i should...I should go….They’ll be wonderin where i am”

Standing with him you walked him to the door.

“Thanks. Thanks for the-”

“Your welcome Daryl….Maybe you could come again? It was nice to have company” Smiling you opened the door for him letting him linger on the threshold.

He let out another noncommittal grunt as his eyes lingered on you. Leaning against the doorway you followed his eye line down your body, smirking slightly you swayed your hips watching as his eyes followed your movements.

Darting forward you swiftly kissed his cheek. “Goodnight Daryl” The blush on his face matched yours as he turned and stomped down the steps rushing towards his own house.

Daryl

Holy shit she was perfect.

Good food, Great Whiskey, Perfect body. That dress…. He had never met anyone like her before, She hunted too. But a woman like that would never look twice at a man like him.

A dirty good for nothing redneck asshole, He didn’t even know why she had been so...so nice to him tonight.

Carol was waiting for him at the door. Puckering her lips at him she made a lip smacking noise “Kiss Pookie” She giggled.

“Shut up” He mumbled, heading straight for the stairs to the basement. He needed to be alone for a little while as he processed these thoughts. Locking the door behind him he took a few strides over to the bed and flopped down on it.

In the dark of the room the thoughts became more obvious. Throwing an arm over his face he groaned. From the second he had first seen her standing so beautifully in front of Aaron’s house he had a tightening in his stomach. He couldn’t have said no to her invitation if he tried.

If Merle had seen him tonight, Blushing like a love sick little girl, He would have had a right laugh, It was like he could hear his voice. “Oh Princess, Got a crush? Man up Baby bro, Go get that cooch”

Did she mean it when she asked if he could come again? He shook his head. She couldn’t have, she was just being nice. His mind couldn’t stop thinking of the way she smiled at him, The way her hair fell in front of her eyes when she laughed, The curves of her as she swayed in the doorway…. His pants were tightening at the thought. He would have to take care of that before he could fall asleep.

Imagining his hands were roaming her body he pulled his throbbing member free, He wouldn’t last long as he thought about her hands on him, While his hands roamed up those beautiful milky thighs. That beautiful mouth gasping for him.

God that did it, Groaning he let himself spill into his hand, Grabbing a rag at the side of him he wiped it from himself, Ashamed he turned over throwing an arm over his face before drifting into an undisturbed sleep at the thought of her.

Over the next few weeks he saw a lot more of Y/N, As they were the two best hunters in Alexandria they were often thrown together to head out of the walls.

Even in her half ruined Jeans and Walker splattered Shirt she was still gorgeous. On days like today when they’re outside the walls he noticed how her face changed from the strained smile to a relaxed free look in her eyes.

She was scanning the underbrush now checking the traps they had left the week before. He felt the blush on his cheeks when he realised he had been caught staring again.

“Everything okay?” She asked spinning around in a circle, her body tensing looking for the Danger.

He cleared his throat, “Yeah all good. Anythin in the trap?” Blush rising in his cheeks at being caught staring. After that they headed back to the town in comfortable silence, Walking side by side both carrying the day's hunt, Y/N stopping every few minutes to forage things on the way.

Once back inside the walls, She came with him to his house as they always did now Only stopping to share the hunt with Olivia to share around the town, Y/N spent a lot more time around him and his group. Seeming to slot seamless into their messed up dynamic.

Just like every night she helped Carol prepare the dinner while he retreated to the porch, Cleaning his bow and bolts, The door open letting her musical laugh wash over him as he worked.

He could have listened to her all day, Before long he forgot what he was meant to be doing and just closed his eyes, Head leaning back against the house, Fully relaxed for the first time being in Alexandria.

He groaned inwardly opening his eyes to see who was disturbing his peace.

“Hey…” Rick took a seat next to Daryl on the porch nudging his knee and pointing towards the house.

“Y/N been spending a lot of time here...What’s going on with that?” He asked, giving you a knowing look.

“Why yer asking me?” Daryl huffed. “Shouldn’ yer be askin her”

Rick sighed before giving him another knowing look. “I seen the way you look at her, You sweet on her?”

Daryl wasn’t sure how to respond because of course he was ‘sweet’ on her but there was no changing who he was, A beautiful woman like that could never be interested in him, So there was just no point admitting his feelings to his friend as he knew you would never reciprocate those feelings.

Just as he opened his mouth to reply your beautiful song filled voice broke interrupted at just the right moment. His heart pounding, blush spreading across his face as you smiled at him, He was grateful for the darkness to hide this from you.

As he stood he felt her fingers brush his arm as she gave him an inquisitive look.

Y/N

You felt the electricity hum between you as your fingers found his arm, You had both been taking as many opportunities as possible to get closer to each other, So grateful when you were partnered together to hunt.

@jazzy1118

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@pncnsc

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@dixonsbike666

@lilythemadqueen

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ray-ray-writings · 3 years

Note

hi 👉👈 so uhm.. i was wondering if you could write something where the reader is dating wilbur and is really close to the rest of the sbi too and one day the reader gets sick and they just take care of the reader and tell them how much they mean to sbi and wilbur is just super protective since they are sick because .. i’m a sucker for fluff 😣

(I wrote this as a drabble and I really hope that was okay haha)

TW: Vomiting and getting sick

Ever since you and Wilbur had begun dating, you had been a part of his family. Phil obviously loved you at the first meeting and adopted you. You were just so sweet and wanted to make a good impression so bad, the memory of you trying to help make dinner makes Phil smile and laugh to this day. Tommy was the next one to accept you, it took him a few more meetings but once you stood up for him when Wilbur called him an annoying brat by saying, “Oh he’s fine Wilbur, he’s not annoying. He’s just Tommy! Leave him be” Tommy loved you like another sibling. Techno took a bit longer than everyone just because he sometimes has a hard time warming up to people. He finally warms up to you once you ask him a question about Greek Mythology and you just listened intently while Techno rambled about it, even after he had already answered your question. The point of this rambling from me is that you are well loved in the SBI family, you spend a lot of time with Wilbur and his family, and the boys would do anything for you.

So one day, you come over to the Minecraft household to spend the night with your boyfriend and his family. You’re immediately welcomed by the sound of footsteps thundering from above with Tommy’s screaming to pair with it. You catch a glimpse of Phil in the kitchen and make your way there first. “Hello Phil,” You greet him, setting your bag down on a chair at the table before moving to hug him. Philza turns around from the counter and lets out a relieved sigh and smiles at the sight of you. He quickly wraps you in a warm hug, “Thank god you’re here” he breaths out causing you to laugh. “Wilbur and Tommy causing trouble?” Another loud scream from upstairs answers my question. “Something like that” he laughs out. “You want me to go stop it?” “Please” and so you two let go from the hug, you pick up your bag and make your way upstairs. The screaming of the boys only gets louder as you walk down the hall. Surprisingly, the arguing suddenly makes your head begin to hurt which is weird, because this has never happened before. But nevertheless, you push open Wilbur’s door with an eyebrow raised, “What’s going on here?” You ask. The arguing immediately stops as both heads snap to you. The tension between them seems to melt as you enter the room. “Hey baby” Wilbur greets, walking over to you, pressing a small kiss to your forehead then to your lips. “Hey boys” you greet back, “What’s going on?” And both of them explode into words, both trying to explain what happened. But again, the arguing makes your head pound causing you to wince. The two immediately notice and stop, “You okay baby?” Wilbur asks, a concerned look on his face. You clear your throat and nod. “Yeah, just a headache. I’m fine. But if you could stop arguing I would appreciate it.” And so the two of them do stop and you all move on with your evening.

You guys go back down and had dinner with everyone, you guys then watch a movie and then you and Wilbur head off to bed. All throughout the night though, you slowly begin to feel bad. Like a sick bad. The headache never goes away, but you force a smile through it. After you eat dinner, your stomach begins to churn and you begin feeling a bit nauseous and just a few other little things that make you feel unwell. That being said, you do your best to ignore it and continue on with your night as normal. The boys do notice but because you don’t say anything they figure that it will be okay. You and Wilbur climb into bed that night and Wilbur pulls you close to his chest. “You feeling okay babe?” He finally asks once he notices the way that you flinch when he pulls you in. “Yeah,” you croak, clearing your throat before trying again, “Yeah. I think I may have eaten too fast tonight. I should be fine by morning”

You were not fine by morning.

When your eyes opened that morning, you immediately knew that you were sick. The churning of your stomach that began last night raged even harder now and you could feel the bile rising in the back of your throat. You quickly threw Wilbur’s arm off of you as well as the blankets before bolting for the door, down the hallway, and into the bathroom. Your knees hit the ground in front of the toilet harshly as you ripped the toilet lid open before vomiting into the toilet. Tears formed in your eyes as your stomach emptied itself into the porcelain toilet. After you were done, you reach up and flush the toilet before resting your cheek against the cool rim. “What’s the matter?” Wilbur’s panicked voice calls from the doorway, “You got out of bed and ran so fast I didn’t have time to process. Are you okay?” He questions walking into the bathroom. You don’t move your face from the toilet as you stare at him pathetically, “I think I’m sick,” you whimper. Wilbur lets out a small coo and shuts the door behind him before walking to you. He kneels down beside you, “Can I touch you?” he asks gently. You give him a small nod as you pull your cheek from the toilet seat and onto his shoulder and his hand is instantly on you, running up and down your back carefully. “What do you need?” He asks, his brow furrowed in worry. You give a small shrug, because you honestly don’t know. “Are you going to throw up again?” Again a small shrug. Wilbur opens his mouth to ask another question, but a small, careful knock on the bathroom door interrupts him. “Is everything okay in there?” Philza’s soft voice calls from the other side. “Yeah… Y/N’s sick” Wilbur called in response. There’s a slight pause before he responds again, “Can I come in?” Wilbur looks to you for your response, but again you just shrug, “Yeah.” The door slowly opens and Philza walks into the bathroom with a concerned look on his face. He walks in all the way, also shutting the door behind him, and walks over to you, gently pulling you from Wilbur’s side and resting the back of his hand on your forehead. “Oh sweetheart, you’re burning up… Let’s get you back in bed huh?” You whimper and nod slowly at his words. “Wilbur would you…” Wilbur nods and pulls away from you and before you can whine at the loss of contact, you’re back in Wilbur’s arms, this time being carried. Philza opens the bathroom door and Wilbur carries you back to his room. Wilbur puts you back in his bed and tucks you into the covers again. After he’s done, Philza walks into the room with a bucket, some meds, a glass of water, and a cool rag. Philza sets everything down on the nightstand. He hands you the meds and helps you take them with the glass of water. “Small sips. We don’t want to upset your stomach” Philza chides softly as you try to gulp down the water. You listen to him and only take a few more sips before he pulls the water away and sets it back on the nightstand. Philza then puts the rag on your forehead and puts the bucket on the floor next to you. “Bucket on the floor in case you need to throw up again. Are you okay for now?” Philza asks, a soft hand running through your hair. You let out a little hum as your eyes flutter closed, “Yeah… I’m good, thanks dad” you mumble out. You don’t see it but Philza’s face breaks out into a huge soft grin. “Alright. Well I’ll go tell Tommy and Techno to keep their noise level down… Mostly Tommy.” Phil says with a laugh, “But then I’ll make some chicken noodle soup for you when you wake up, okay?” Again you let out a small hum in confirmation. You feel the other side of the bed dip down as you hear Phil’s footsteps leave the room. Arms wrap around your body and Wilbur pulls you close to his chest, his lips tilting down and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You’re gonna get sick” you whine, trying to turn around in his arms and get away from him, but his grip remains tight. “So be it then. I just wanna hold my baby, to make them feel better.” He murmurs, pressing another kiss to your forehead and pulling you impossibly closer. This time you don’t fight him and you relax in his arms and fall asleep.

When you wake up, you feel a little bit better, still sick but better. You’re also still in Wilbur’s arms, but someone else is in the room. You manage to roll yourself over onto your back and in the doorway you find Tommy standing there with his arms crossed just staring at you. “Were you watching us sleep?” You ask blearily, your voice cracking a little bit. Tommy’s face blushes a bright red at getting caught, “No!” He tries to defend himself, “You were just… Just sleeping in my line of vision… Yeah that’s it. I wasn’t in here because I was worried about you at all, not at all.” He rambles, revealing everything. You can’t help but melt a little. “It’s okay Tommy. I’m okay. ‘M just a little sick” you tell him, slowly adjusting yourself so you could sit up and grab the glass of water off of the nightstand and taking a few small sips before setting it back down. Tommy has a little pout on his face, “I don’t want you to be sick.” Tommy says quietly. You can’t help but let out a little laugh, “Neither do I kiddo, but it’s just the way it is right now.” Tommy is quiet for a moment before he asks, “Is there something I can do?” Again, you melt because you very very rarely see this side of Tommy. “Yeah, could you let your dad know I’m awake. I could really use some chicken noodle soup and crackers right now” Tommy gives you a small nod and turns and runs out of the room. You’re startled out of your trance by Wilbur shifting next to you and wrapping his arms around you again, “You’ve done it. You’ve tamed the brat” Wilbur mumbles out, burying his face into your side. You can’t help but roll your eyes, but you let one of your hands move and rest in his hair to play with it. “Shush,” you mutter down at him. He doesn’t say anything else, but the smirk on his face says it all.

A small knock on the door sounds. You don’t get to answer before the door swings open and Wilbur’s pink headed brother is there with a package of crackers and some more pills in his hands. “Hey Tech” you greet causing Wilbur’s face to poke out of your side. Techno walks into the room and over to the bed. “Hey Y/N. How you feeling?” he asks, setting the crackers down on the nightstand. “Better, but my body is still achy and my head hurts a bit.” You admit. Techno lets out a small hum as he grabs the glass of water and hands you the glass and some more meds, “Dad told me to tell you to take these. It’s the same thing as you took before you went to sleep, it’s been enough time for more…” You give him a nod, taking the meds before handing him the glass again. He sets it down on the stand before opening the package of crackers and handing you a few. “Here, you can eat these while you wait for soup. Just don’t eat them too fast” “Thanks Tech” you murmur, taking the crackers and slowly begin nibbling on them. Techno just stands there for a while, watching you eat them. Normally you would be a little intimidated by it, but because of what had just happened with Tommy moments ago, you knew he just wanted to make sure you were alright. After you ate the first two crackers, you decided to strike up a conversation, not wanting to sit there in silence. As you talked, Philza and Tommy appeared in the room with five bowls of soup, Philza carrying three and Tommy carrying two. The two quickly passed a bowl to the three of you that were sitting on the bed. The five of you ate the chicken noodle soup together. The warm soup made you feel a bit better, your stomach a bit wholer… That didn’t make any sense oh well. As you ate, you couldn’t help but look around at the room. Your heart swelled with joy as you looked at the family that had practically adopted you. They had all dropped what they were doing that day to take care of you and you couldn’t be more grateful.

#mcyt #mcyt imagine #mcyt drabble #wilbur soot #wilbur soot imagine #wilbur soot drabble #ray responds #drabble #tw vomit #tw vomitting

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razorblade180 · 3 years

Text

Shackles 10: Beasts

[part 9]

“You know I’m really getting tired of walking through hot rocky deserts.”

“Yang, you’re the last person I want to hear complain about the heat.” Ilia grunted. “Just be thankful we aren’t in Menagerie.”

“We marched through it yesterday for a couple days.”

“Oh….well then stop complaining! Dawn has barely broke and Vacou is marginally less hot. These two know what I’m talking about.”

Blake and Jacquelyn remained silent. Both were lost in thought, mentally preparing for what was ahead. Ilia clicked her tongue. She looked at the spot marked on her map to make sure she hadn’t messed up the directions.

Blake could hear her teammate’s heartbeats as they walked. Jacquelyn might’ve been quiet but her heartbeat was faster than a hummingbird. Yang’s beat like a steady drum while Ilia’s, well, it was actually calm. Not a beat of worry. Blake was envious.

“What I wouldn’t give to be calm like you.”

Ilia looked back at her briefly before looking onward. “There’s nothing you have to give. Last time I checked we were taught to be calm by the same person. Though I guess…it was more of a quiet rage. He had that in common with my parents.”

“Has.” Jacquelyn corrected. “And I wouldn’t say his rage was quiet. Sometimes it felt like he could only scream into the wind.”

Yang raised her brow. “Wasn't that annoying? Concerning even?”

“Rage doesn’t do well bottled up. Should I have been concerned and annoyed when you yelled at me?”

“I…that is…” Yang sighed, giving up on a response.

“Rage like this can’t be solved immediately with wimpy meditation practices or a stress ball. Better to shout in a nameless desert than to go around breaking things. Anyways, that hasn’t happened in awhile. Adam has been lost in thought lately more than anything. Now that’s concerning. Being alone with your thoughts is risky business. I’m sure we all agree on that.”

Ilia stopped walking as she made it over a dune. “I don’t know. Thoughts are probably the best thing in a place like that.” She points down towards a lone rock plateau with a tattered wooden mineshaft entrance.that’s blocked by debris. “We made it.” Blake and Jacquelyn said nothing as they began walking ahead of her. Small talk was over.

Yang took a deep breath. She was never one to be nervous about situations like these. Being a huntress meant you saw some disturbing things by nature, but that didn’t stop the air itself from feeling dead. Blake described the scent as a slaughter house earlier. Somehow, Yang could tell she was right. “We ready for this? Who knows what is waiting for us inside.”

“Ready as we’ll ever be. Ilia will stand guard outside. We don’t want them knowing our numbers fully or any backup arriving. You and Jacquelyn back me up while I take the lead.”

“Works for me. But…” Yang approached the entrance and pressed up against a support beam, widening the entrance as debris crumbled out of the way. “That’s better. I’d rather have a quick escape instead of a squeeze through when things get loud, because it’s definitely going to.”

Blake smiled. “Quiet was never your thing anyways, but remember, this is a dust mine. Dried up or not, let’s not shoot anything immediately.” Blake walked in with her swords ready. Jacquelyn followed second with Wilted Rose on her hip.

Yang gave Ilia a wink before following the other two. The shaft didn’t take long before it started sloping down into darkness. A problem for anyone not hanging out with a faunus with great eyesight, or a girl whose hair glows like a torch on command. Normally that would be a benefit, but it made things all the more uneasy for Yang.

“Don’t you think it’s a little too dark in here? I mean…I don’t think the guards themselves could see; unless…” she trailed off. Breaking their focus was the last thing she wanted, but Yang was certain they already knew. Step by step the cave expanded. Water dripped down to the pools below. Faint clinging metal grew louder while Yang’s light revealed rusted cell bars, chains, and mining tools. A thick, potent odor hung in the air so intensely that it made swallowing difficult.

“Don’t look inside, not yet.” Jacquelyn uttered, holding back her gagging.

Blake marched forward. “Smell getting to you?”

“It’s not the stench that makes me want to hurl.”

At last they reached the end of the holding area to reach another passageway. Light curved through it and Blake’s pace slowed.

“What’s wrong?”

“I hear people. Dozens of them. Workers and…the rest.”

Jacquelyn’s eyes glowed. “Then what are we waiting f-”

“They aren’t moving. Everyone’s just…” Blake approached cautiously, crouched and weary. A knot festered deep inside her. Tears she restrained kept fighting to the surface the closer she got to turning the corner until Blake finally came around. In front of her was the main area. Faunus of every kind stuffed into this giant chasm. Men, women, and children bound in shackles all over the place while guards over watched them; yet nobody was working. They all were watching a man on a platform make another example of the very person that brought them here. Without thinking, Blake spoke.

“A-Adam…?” She said barely above a whisper, yet all heard her in the deathly quiet chamber.

Guards and prisoners alike turned to her in surprise. Jacquelyn and Yang came in soon after with their own look of shock at what they were witnessing. Tired, dread, shock, pain, terror, rage, lifelessness; so many expressions stared at the three from the prisoners who cowarded and guards that pulled weapons.

“Halt. Let’s not be too hasty.” Sobek said, turning around to view his arrival. They couldn’t help but notice his white lab coat stained in red that matches the curved knife he currently wiped on his sleeve. “My goodness. Well isn’t this quite the surprise. I should’ve known catching a big fish and the fact some of my men hadn't returned in a while meant someone was gonna come knocking on my door, but my wildest dreams didn’t think it would be you. Ms. Blake Belladonna, welcome to Purgatory. I’d shake your hand but…” he grabbed Adam by the hair to lift his battered face, but that was tame compared to the gashes and massive bruises that riddled his body in red and purple. “I’ve been pretty busy.” He lit Adam’s head droop limply again.

Overwhelmed, neither Blake or Jacquelyn could speak. The two had yet to shake the shock of it all. As for Yang, she chose to break formation and get in front of both of them. “Why?” That’s all she could ask. That’s all there was to ask. Yang was so caught up by the horrific sight before her that she failed to realize her eyes had long abandoned their lilac color.

Sobek smiled at her. “What’s this, a human? Well I suppose wonders never cease. Caring humans do exist but to find one here is both shocking and unfortunate. You see these monsters before you aren’t worth your compassion. Every last one of them are affiliated and conspired with the very group that poisons the world you and I cherish.”

“That does not answer the question! Why the hell are you hunting people?”

“Animals! How many times do I-” He took a breath, composing himself. “These animals do nothing but spread misery, breed hate. They teach it to their vermin and drag the good faunus through the mud! Just like they did with my daughters! The White Fang aren’t faunus. They’re animals that need to be tamed; and the ones that can’t get put down! The High Leader understands.”

Blake tensed up. All eyes shifted to her and her alone.

“It was faunus like you that showed the rotten parts. The posers and liars that threatened good names. You yourself waged war against the splinter cell this filth-”

“Let him go.” Blake finally spoke. Her voice trembled. The taste of iron hit her mouth as her teeth clenched and pupils constricted. “Let them all go, right now!” She yelled.

The charisma the man held faded. “Excuse me? S…Surely you’re not defending them?”

“And why wouldn’t I!? This…it’s sick. In what right mind does any of this make sense? All you’re doing is hurting people.”

“They get what they deserve.”

“AND WHO ARE YOU TO JUDGE!?” Blake could feel her blood boil. Her nail pierced skin and she could feel her heart pound. “I don’t give a damn what your reasons are. I don’t care if anyone in here took lives. This is not how things work. You don’t get to decide others' lives, especially after this!”

“You stand here before me and defend the likes of Adam Taurus, terrorist?”

“I defend life.” Blake pointed her sword towards the man. “I defend change, no matter how bleak!”

“……I see. So you're a beast after all. Then mourn for them.” Sobek withdrew his hospitality, and then snapped his fingers. The guards took their weapons, then went for the prisoners to immediately beat, stab, and shoot whoever.

Yang wasn’t prepared for what happened next. Before she could even act, Blake had let out a scream of pure anger, leaping through the air to Sobek while a trail of tears were left behind. The scientist had made a mad dash towards a metal down with Blake in pursuit.

“Blake!? Don’t go alo-shit!” Yang dove back into the passage they came from to avoid gunfire. “Damn it all!” Yang readied her for a shoot out when the sound of lightning rattled her ears, followed by the sound of several yells before silence returned. Yang looked out and found gunmen on the floor, Jacquelyn walking by them.

The maiden said nothing. Her goal was a simple one and if she was honest with herself, everything else was white noise at the moment. Wind lifted her up to Adam’s platform. Jacquelyn gripped the shackles that strung him up, freezing them until they shattered like glass. His body fell onto hers and she fell to her knees. The world gave Jacquelyn her fair share of tragedy, but this was too cruel to comprehend. His face was so swollen the skin was purple, his good eye swelled shut. Blood leaked and clotted all over his torso and back from stabs, gashes, shocks, and the broken bones.

“Adam?” She uttered, but no response was given. She leaned down to hear the faintest sign of breathing and a weak beating heart. What should’ve sparked hope only made her cry. They had kept him conscious through so much and now his body…

Guards begin to circle around them aim their guns. “Don’t move! Step-” the guard couldn’t even finish his demands before letting out a strained cough as the rock wall behind him shot out like a spear through him.

“I’ll kill you.” Jacquelyn lifted her head, making all the guards shake in fear of her glowing tear filled eyes. The wind picked up around her and the air began to freeze. “I’LL KILL ALL OF YOU!”

“FIRE!” The guards shot into blistering winds that cut and carved the area around their target, firing back ice and imposing the pressure of her storm to the point the entire cavern shook.

“Give me a break. So much for dust safety.” Yang ran through the area, punching and shooting unsuspecting enemies caught up in the whirlwind of dust as she made her way to prisoners; tearing apart chains and yanking them out of walls. “If you can walk then help those who can’t!” She shot falling debris from afar that nearly blocked the exit. “Hey! You’re going to bury us!” Yang’s words didn’t reach the emotional woman holding her partner. Yang looked around frantically. Guards still poured in, some tried escaping, and others ran to where Blake left. All while prisoners either ran for safety or layed dying; beyond the limit of what they could take. “C’mon, act Xiao Long. Act!”

Her feet moved without thinking. Yang didn’t know how this was going to end but if she wanted the best then she’d have to reach for it with her own hands. If that meant rushing head first into a snow storm then so be it. Her hair ignited into pure flames and her clothes kindled like dying embers. Yang lunged right into the dome of wind to grab Jacquelyn.

“Jackie, get a grip! People need us right now. We’ll all die here if this keeps up.” She put her hands on the sides of Jackie's face. “Hey hey hey, look at me.”

Jacquelyn looked Yang in the eye. “He…He’s dying.” Her hands pressed against open wounds. Fire and ice sealed and cauterized wounds but what good it did was unclear.

“Adam’s a stubborn bastard. He cheated death before and he’ll do it again.”

“But-”

“I will take care of Adam! I promise.” Yang put her hands on Jacquelyn’s. “You take care of the guards following their boss and back up Blake. I hate to say it but I don’t like my odds going through that door, so I’ll get these people out. Okay?”

“E…Even if I barrel through them all I don’t know if I can handle-”

“They’re… weak.” Adam mumbled, gaining their attention. He could barely see or move but managed to move his hands enough to grab Jackie’s. “All mutilated, barely trained; but insane. Sobek, he… Atlas.” He coughed blood.

“Adam!”

“Just…grab Blake.” His consciousness faded in and out. However, Adam managed to squeeze Jackie’s hand for reassurance before going silent.

“Well you heard the guy. Though if you do see a chance to grab the bastard…”

“Oh you don’t have to tell me twice.” Jacquelyn was hesitant but gave Adam to Yang. She finally stood up, gripping the hilt of the crimson blade on her. “I’ve always wanted to do this.” With one fluid motion she drew the blade while channeling her magic. A fierce and single slash cut through the wind; pushing it out with force that pushed everyone while the attack cut the metal door down. Jacquelyn didn’t delay any further in doing what she was asked. Yang put Adam on her back best she could. Thankfully he was able to wrap his arms over her shoulders.

“Do me a favor and don’t fall off.”

“Do me a favor and don’t get me shot.”

Yang groaned. Of all the people she had to save. Right on que, bullets flew their way. Time to head out. Yang did her best to run with the extra baggage. Adam honestly wasn’t too heavy but that wasn’t a good thing realistically. Chances are he hasn’t eaten much in days. If it wasn’t for the swelling then the man’s features would’ve been sunken in and pale. Yang can’t say she has compassion for him but she’d be hard pressed to believe she could idly watch if it happened right in front of her. Ruby would say that’s what makes her a hero. It was more frustrating in Yang’s opinion.

“For your sake I hope you’re worth all this trouble.” Yang kicked downed guards trying to get up from the wind blast to give others more time. “Well at the very least all these people are so I guess I should shut up about it.”

Adam did his best to look at the chaos. His vision couldn’t register faces but he saw how many people pushed and rushed over one another. Though one of them, he couldn’t help but think about Sobek’s words and thought process. It was twisted, outright demented, yet one part of it held true to an extent. Adam felt his ego take a hit. He led them here.

“…I got what I deserve.”

“Tsk, if you ask me you’ve only gotten a piece of it. How you get rest isn’t for me to decide, thank goodness. If I were you I’d start thinking on how-”

“Cells.” He interrupted. “Don’t leave without opening the cells.”

“Huh? Most looked empty or wore silent. No one even came up to bars.”

“A girl, Jasmine, she should be there. Brother too.”

“Dude you can’t afford many detours. I’ll try but no promise we’ll find anything. I’m telling you it was quiet. Dead quiet.” Yang felt ill saying that last part. “What kind of person does this to kids? Can’t imagine a childhood like this.”

Adam’s grip tightened. “I can.”

After a few more minutes of letting stragglers go first and looking out for danger, Yang left the cavern. Defending everyone was a Dream already killed before it could start and she promised to look after Adam so taking her time wasn’t an option. “Do you know what cell?”

“I was strung up on a platform.”

“A no would’ve been fine.” Yang started checking one at a time, punching in doors just in case. It was far too dark to see completely in them otherwise. “Uhh Jasmine? Hello?” She kept looking again and again but no one answered. Yang was about to cut her losses until she heard hissing when a prisoner bumped into a set of bars. “Jasmine?”

No one answered. Yang grabbed the bars and hissing turned to growling. There was definitely someone in there. She busted open the door and stepped in, lighting a section of the area. A gasp escaped her lips at the sight of blood soaked dirt. Pale eyes glowed in the corner. Yang stepped closer carefully until the girl could no longer hide in the dark. A maple skinned girl covered in dirt, sweat, and blood crouched low with eyes as scary as Blake’s; her teeth gritted while the volume of her growl grew louder with her soiled white ears folded back. Yang was easily in no real danger, yet the glare on her was startling. This little girl clearly was ready to kill if need be.

Yang got low. “H-Heeey. Sssshh It’s okay. I’m gonna- ah!” Yang winced. Jacquelyn lunged forward and sunk her teeth into Yang’s good hand. Yang didn’t lose composure. She reached out with her other hand, rubbing the child’s face. “Feel better? Hehe, let’s get you outta here.”

Jasmine tried biting deeper but was caught off guard by a third hand resting on her head. Her eyes widened once she realized Adam was one the woman’s back. Her jaw loosened up and the rage turned into grief.

“Jasmine, where’s-”

“Adam…?” Yang said, staring to the right. Her light didn’t reach the other side of the cell but it was enough to make a trail of blood and limp arm visible. The two went silent again. Adam pulled Jasmine closer until she climbed up on him, clinging for life as she began to whimper against his back. Yang let her hair fade out and then left, walking through the dark. She didn’t want to see another second in this place.

xxxx

Jacquelyn wasn’t much of a better time. Unlike the rest of Purgatory, everything past the medal door reminded her of Atlesian research labs. Including the defenses. Around every corner was an annoyance. Two armed guards tried getting the jump on her but were quickly outmatched. Jacquelyn froze the first with ice breath while the second tried taking a swing at her. Catching the fist, Jacquelyn twisted the guard's arm and pinned her against the wall; draining what aura she could in the process before pressing on. Jacquelyn was thankful Yang calmed her down when she did. Expending more energy like that would've been bad in her condition. Jacquelyn felt like she was running on fumes.

“I can see why my mom never gave me siblings. Gotta make this quick before I’m the one who’ll need saving.” More enemies marched from behind, forcing her to run through the sterile hallways. On the way a trail of several guards were already taken out that led to a bigger group of struggling men. Jacquelyn could make out a pissed off Blake in the middle of it all.

“LET ME GO!” Blake headbutted the one restraining her right arm and swung at the ones in front of her. A burst of strength rushed through her. She gripped the guard on her left arm, flinging them across the room. Blake swiveled around to aim at the ones behind her but Jacquelyn was quicker on the draw. Adam’s signature gun already riddled two with wounds while the blade cut down three more.

“Where’s Sobek?”

“He keeps heading deeper in.” Blake pointed at the scientist’s fallen scales and light trail of blood. “I tried taking a shot but I kept getting swarmed.” Blake noticed the pack behind Jacquelyn and tried running but was immediately grabbed by the wrist. “Jacquelyn!?”

“It’s a trap. We both know that.”

“We’ve known that from the jump. If we corner him then-” Blake and Jacquelyn shot past each other at the same time before standing back to back. Jacquelyn slammed her hand on the ground and conjured ice walls to by time. “Damnit! There’s no end!”

“Yeah…let’s retreat.”

“What!? But you’re the one-”

“I know! Believe me, I know. Honestly I want to tell you I came here to back you up but Yang offered to take Adam to safety in exchange for yours.”

Blake’s eyes widened. “Yang…offered?”

“Truth be told, I think it was more self preservation than kindness. Listen I don’t want to get blown up again but Sobek seems like the type to let it all burn when things fall apart. I told you that you’d find your answer when we arrive. Don’t tell me it was to get angry and die?”

“……” Blake shut her eyes and took a breath. It didn’t help. If anything her heart felt like it was beating faster. Pent up frustration gnawed away at her so much she couldn’t stop shaking. Her grip was so tight around Gamble Shroud her hands threatened to bleed. “What did you say earlier outside, about screaming when you’re enraged?”

Jacquelyn chuckled. “We’re well past that point. Don’t tell Adam but I think we should break some shit. Lucky for us we have volunteers. Care for a violent escape?”

Blake turned away from the path deeper into the lab and faced Jacquelyn’s direction, listening to reason. “Back me up. I’d feel guilty if your baby got hurt.”

Now that was an offer Jacquelyn couldn’t refuse. Blake’s kindness managing to shine even while in this situation was something Jacquelyn could only respect. She got behind her. “I’m in your hands. Now let’s get busy.”

Jacquelyn spit the wall in front of them to funnel the lackeys in for Blake to cut loose on with her blades, performing a double cross slash into snap kick that launched one backwards into the group. Keeping on the offensive, Blake followed up with a rising knee to push them further back. A strong gust of wind from Jacquelyn helped increase the force and distance Blake went while suppressing the rest. A guard tried restraining her but only grasped the afterimage while the real one unleashed an aura slash that went through the crowd. Deep cuts engraved the wall and glass shattered. Blake tossed her blades up and went through the halls quickly guiding Jacquelyn safely to the other side.

Pressure filled the air. A dense building of force rose steadily until Jacquelyn couldn’t ignore it. “Blake? What did you do-” the cuts in the wall doubled in size. An almost unseen second flash went through the hall, the blades traveling with it until stopping on a dime in front of Blake for her to grab from the hands of a clone Jacquelyn never saw materialize. It faded as quickly as it was noticed. One by one the guards adamant on killing were dropping like flies.

“A double moon slice? Heh, I guess you really are his disciple at heart.”

“In more ways than one.” Blake flung the blood off her blade while she sharpened them on one another.

“And why would you say that?” Blake looked back at her. The vacant and dim stare she gave expressed a bleak hollowing pain Jacquelyn couldn’t mistake. “Oh…well that’s okay. It just makes you one of us.”

#rwby #adam taurus #sobek #blake belladonna #ilia amitola #jacquelyn frost #yang xiao long #rwby shackles #rwby au

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astarryon · 3 years

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Tame Your Demons

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Violence, blood mention, implied assault, language, general criminal minds things

Summary: The deal you have with Spencer is simple. You call him to take care of the men looking to take advantage of innocents on the street, and he comes to ensure you don’t kill them before he gets the chance. Unfortunately for the both of you, though, things don’t always go according to plan.

A/N: This is my latest love letter to Spencer Reid and Criminal Minds! Part Two will be posted a little later this week, and will be for a slightly more mature audience, if y’all catch my drift. A big thank you to @reids-trauma for letting me run this fic by her, she’s literally half the reason it even saw the light of day. Enjoy!

Masterlist

––

You see him before he sees you.

It doesn’t hurt your feelings— it’s the norm, in any case, and it’s what typically happens each time you reach out to plan a rendezvous. Part of the agreement is that you get to set the location, and you’re always careful to pick places you’re comfortable enough to slip your way out of unnoticed in case he ever morals up and brings his team to corner you. To his credit, that hasn’t happened yet — though you’re not naive enough to give up on the idea that it ever will just yet — but never subscribing to uncertain chances was a lesson you’d learned a long time ago.

But you know you’re safe for tonight, at least. He wouldn’t be meandering around the bar for such a prolonged amount of time searching for you if there were rows of feds waiting to take you into custody as soon as you stepped foot out the door. It takes a full fifteen seconds before his wandering gaze finally touches on you, another three before the glint of recognition appears in his eyes, and by the time he’s straightening his spine and striding purposefully toward you, it’s been an entire minute. Damn. Someone was really starting to lose their touch.

“You’re late, Doc,” you simper, arching a brow as you knock back a hearty sip from your glass. “Didn’t your mommy ever tell you it’s rude to keep a lady waiting?”

“Couldn’t be helped,” Reid huffs, crossing his arms over one another as he tries — and fails — to sidle up to you in a casual manner. You note the way he avoids touching the bar at all costs, how he folds in on himself like an exceptionally uncomfortable piece of origami. And then, of course, there’s the suit, far too dressy for a place so casual as the lively little bar nestled in the far side of downtown Georgetown. Jesus, the only way he would look like even more of an off the clock fed would be if his badge were superglued to his palm. “Getting away from the others without raising suspicion on such short notice isn’t exactly the easiest thing to pull off.”

“Yeah, well,” you chuckle, taking another sip from your glass. You make eyes at him, pointedly and conspicuously allowing your gaze to rake his lanky, suit clad frame head to toe. He looks good in the outfit he’s picked, the dark black of his jacket drawing the eye to the maroon button down he wore beneath it, and you marvel at the way his chosen color palette sets off his skin in the dim light. If Reid notices your staring or cares, he makes no show of it. Your ogling doesn’t bother him, not like it used to — doesn’t even make him blush, to your admitted dismay, though you suppose that makes sense. Spencer Reid is nothing like the sweet, shy boy he used to be. He’s not so wide eyed and naive anymore, though you’d never expected that to last very long in the first place. Still — getting a rise out of him had always been your favorite part of your arrangement. If you don’t get to keep that going, these meetings are about to become significantly less fun. “That’s the deal, isn’t it? When I call, you come running.”

“That’s the deal,” he mutters, nonchalantly waving off the approaching bartender. “And I came running. So who is it?”

You jut your lip out into a pout, resting your elbows atop the bar before settling your chin against your palms, sparing only a moment’s thought for how low the neckline of your dress must be dipping with the switch in position before casting the worry out of your mind. Were any other man your company tonight, you might have felt more concern for your modesty, but Spencer Reid was far from being anything like most men, and, honestly, the day you caught him checking you out was the day you mentally marked another tally on your side of the metaphorical score board. “Why’s it always straight to business with you?”

“Because—“

“No ‘hello’,” you go on, skirt riding further up your thigh as you cross your legs over each other. Not even a spare glance. Damn. “No ‘how are you,’ no admission of your undying love for me. If you’re not careful, Spencer, you’re going to start hurting my feelings.”

“No offense,” Spencer retorts, sounding particularly unconcerned with whether his words actually offend you or not, “but your feelings aren’t exactly my top priority right now. Arresting whoever this man is before you take it upon yourself to brutalize him is.”

“Well he’d deserve it, if I did,” you tell him matter of factly, swirling the contents of your glass as you pretend to be more interested in that than the eye-catching man just beside you. “This one likes to take advantage of young girls in clubs who accept drinks from strangers because they don’t know any better and still think there are nice people left in the world. Sometimes he keeps track, like it’s a game, and tries to see how many he can assault in a night, and this most recent time three of them made it home all right, but the fourth one turned up in a dumpster. So, yeah, Spencer, you’ll have to forgive me for figuring that if he ends up in a back alley with a couple of bruises and a broken leg he probably got what was coming to him, but don’t insult me by implying that I don’t know how to keep a promise.”

“If broken legs and bruises were all you left men with it wouldn’t be such a problem,” comes Spencer’s dry remark. “Unfortunately for the both of us, you seem to have a particular affinity for leaving men in comas.”

An affinity with which Spencer was all too familiar, you knew — not because he’d fallen victim to your habit of enacting revenge for all those poor defenseless victims, but because he’d caught you in the act with someone else. Two years later and you still weren’t positive how he’d managed to track you down. Spencer had told you minimal things — that an acquaintance on the city’s police force had reached out for his advice on a mysterious case of incapacitated men turning up in dark alleys, rarely little more than a few minutes away from going brain dead. That he’d been surprised to realize you profiled as female, considering the amount of unadulterated rage your behavior presented. That he’d made the decision to do what he could to keep from turning you in provided you help him be able to do so with a clean conscience before he’d even found you standing over some man with a white-knuckled grip on a tire iron.

“Give me your word that you’ll contact me first,” he’d instructed, a shockingly small amount of hesitancy glinting in his irises. “Give me your word that from the moment you call me, I have twenty four hours to find you so I can take care of all those awful men the right way. If I don’t make it in that time frame, they’re fair game, but if I find out that you laid a finger on them before you called me, I’ll personally see to it that you do time for every single man you’ve hospitalized. Can you agree to that?”

And you had. Partly because you had no interest in spending any prolonged amount of time behind bars, and partly because the odd sense of emotional recognition he’d gazed upon you with had been so unlike anything you’d ever been met with from another human being that you were essentially startled into instant complacency.

“He’s in the bathroom,” you sigh, downing the rest of your drink and flagging the bartender down for another. More for show than anything else, though you know the theatrics aren’t strictly necessary. Your drink of choice while out with company is much more coke than it is rum, and after two years there isn’t any doubt in your mind that Spencer is aware of that. “Has been for a while now, as a matter of fact, because he’s pompous and arrogant and wants to make sure the bait is set right for the barely legal girl he’s meeting here tonight.”

“Don’t suppose you want to share with the class the barely legal method you used to figure that one out?” Spencer deadpans, plucking your new drink from the bar and draining a few healthy sips before you even have the chance to reach for it. That’s something he’s never done before, though you suppose his repulsion to germs wouldn’t factor in one way or the other since the drink was fresh. But Spencer never indulged in alcohol around you, and was always incredibly careful to keep his guard up during these meetings. Either he was playing a different angle tonight, or something in him had drastically shifted.

“Only if you want to share with the class why I’ve been tailing this guy for two and a half weeks while you dodged my phone calls,” you retort, never breaking eye contact as you grab the glass and tilt the rim to your mouth, in just the same place that Spencer’s had been. You think you see a vein in his neck pulse as you swallow, but you can’t be sure whether the lights are playing tricks on you, so you decide not to count it. “Not like you to leave an innocent man’s life in my hands.”

Spencer arches a brow, eyes narrowing as he searches your face for something you’re not sure about. “Not like you to wait to hear back from me before doing anything about it.” He pauses, then, and more to himself than to you mutters, “And I’ve never said they were innocent.”

“Guess you’re right,” you mutter, shrugging a shoulder and leaning back in your chair as you let your eyes scan around the restaurant. The man you’re looking for is still nowhere to be found, and with the way your nerves are beginning to fray beneath Spencer’s all too calm and collected scrutiny, it’s hard to get ahold of your imagination as it barrels toward the worst case. “He’s still not back.”

“He’s probably still in the bathroom,” Spencer offers, giving an unconcerned shrug of his own. “You said he was a primper.”

“It’s been almost twenty minutes,” you shoot back, fixing him with a harsh stare. Normally you’d bother to be a bit more vivacious when speaking to Spencer, even in spite of your own irritation, but the sinking feeling in your stomach is making it impossible to pay attention to niceties. “That’s never happened before. Something’s wrong.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing.” But even to you Spencer’s words sound hesitant, like he’s trying to convince rather than tell, and somehow his lack of confidence only serves to make your throat that much thicker. “He couldn’t have left already, you would’ve seen him.”

Yeah, you would have — provided you hadn’t allowed every ounce of your attention to be monopolized by Spencer. You’d been so preoccupied with trying to appeal to his attention, so hung up on matching him wit for wit and taunting and tempting him with bared flesh and sultry gazes that, truthfully, anything could have escaped your notice in the last couple of minutes. Anything. And if some poor girl ended up preyed upon, if she ended up beaten or assaulted or worse, it wouldn’t be as simple as blaming the monster taking advantage of her. You wouldn’t even be able to blame Spencer for distracting you. No— the only person you’d have to blame would be yourself.

“He’s gone,” you breathe, horror a jagged knife twisting in your stomach. Your hands shake so badly that Spencer has to uncurl your fingers from around your glass so he can set it gently down for you. “God, he’s— I let him get away. He’s gone.”

“Don’t work yourself up,” Spencer insists, and if you weren’t sure your panic was playing tricks on you, you’d have sworn you saw his hand reach out to comfort you, just as you saw apprehension tensing his expression. Of course the one thing it took to get a reaction out of him would be unbridled panic. “Listen to me, everything is fine.”

“Not for whatever girl he decided he liked enough to blow off his date for!” you hiss, and it’s a strain to keep your volume low enough not to attract the attention of any other patrons, but you manage. “We need to— Spencer, we have to stop him! He’s going to hurt somebody!”

“Okay,” Spencer tries to calm you, quickly moving to his feet. You can’t get a read on the way he’s looking at you, can’t tell if he’s taking you seriously or trying to decide if he should make a phone call to he nearest psychiatrist, but he seems to be picking up on the urgency of the situation, so you make the choice to let it go. “Let me go check the bathroom to see if he’s still here. If he’s not there, then we can start worrying.” He turns, taking three steps towards the bathroom before spinning on his heel and coming back to say, “Just— stay here, okay? Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

And as you watch his back as he makes the trek towards the restroom, you think about doing what he tells you to. Truly, you do. Spencer could walk into that bathroom and find the man you’d been planning to turn over to his custody and come back with him in handcuffs, unable to help leveling a handsome smirk at you by way of a silent I told you so. You could be panicking for nothing.

But… if there was even the slightest chance that someone innocent could be in the worst kind of danger, was it really worth leaving their fate up to a coin toss?

You’re on your feet as soon as Spencer’s out of sight, beelining for the exit and dodging between other patrons until your legs have carried you out the door and immediately to the dimly lit corner of the block, lined with the closed shops and darkened alleys the man you were after would need to get away with the unspeakable acts he planned to commit. Even as you book it to stop what you know in your gut to be happening, you can’t help but to hope that Spencer had been right. Things would certainly be easier to stomach, were that the case.

But, as you’d somehow known with sickening clarity, the closer you draw to the dark alley gaping between the buildings down the street, the more prominent sounds of a struggle become. You heard a man’s voice — deep and angry and enough to set your hands shaking and your mind blazing with fury — and then, beneath that, the muffled, whimpered cries of a young woman, the sounds of which were so pitiful that you didn’t need to have laid an eye on her to know that she was already sobbing. After that, all thoughts of Spencer effectively flew out the window. Suddenly all there was in your mind’s eye was you, some poor innocent girl having the worst night of her life, and what you were going to do to ensure that nothing bad befell her or any other girl ever again.

“Hey!” you screech, running head first into the alley. “Get the fuck off of her!”

There isn’t any time to survey your surroundings, to take stock of the fact that the man you’d known would be out here was in the process of brutalizing a young woman — one who looked to be barely more than a teen, to your unadulterated horror — nor was there time to really assess what you were barreling toward. All you knew was that your body moved of its own volition, and it was much too late to think things through once you’d collided so forcefully with the assailant that you’d knocked him bodily to the ground. It was too late to second guess yourself now, to wonder whether it wouldn’t be smarter to wait for Spencer, who could actually, legally take care of this guy. The only thing that mattered now was getting justice for everyone who had been too incapacitated to stand up for themselves.

“What the fuck?” the man hisses from beneath you, but you’re already whipping around to get a look at the frightened girl staring down at you. Her eyes are rimmed red, tears trailing down her cheeks, and to your morbid relief, you note that she appears to have no more than an expression of horror on her face.

You’d made it in time, then. By the grace of some higher power, you’d made it in time.

“There’s an FBI agent in the bar down the street,” you bark at her, struggling against the brute strength of the man you were trying — and failing — to keep pinned down. “His name is Spencer Reid. Find him.”

And that was all you had to say before she was running off down the alley and out of sight, the mercy of her safety striking such a psychological chord that you were just distracted enough for the man beneath you to throw a punch that successfully manages to clip you on the jaw, causing stars to swim in your vision as a result.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” he hisses, quickly pushing himself to his feet and leering over you with a sneer. It made sense that he was under the impression that he had the upper hand— were you anyone else, he likely would have, and you’d have been little more to him than a replacement for the target you’d just saved.

But you weren’t anyone else. You weren’t helpless, or defenseless, and you certainly weren’t about to let this lowlife get away with all of the things he thought he was. No — you were someone hellbent on making a lasting difference in the world, and if that had to start with this guy getting his head bashed in, then so be it. You were down a tire iron, but your rage was weapon enough.

You wait until he grabs at your shoulder, waiting for just the right moment as he fully extends his elbow before punching as hard as you can against it in the opposite direction, not pausing to hear the sickening crunch of his bone snapping before rolling to the side, jumping to your feet, and subsequently kicking out his knee with a high heel clad foot. His howls of pain are equivalent to music in your ears, but you don’t pause to revel in the sound before you continue on with enacting your justified persecution. In this moment, you aren’t yourself. You’re not sure who you are, as a matter of fact, but you know it isn’t someone willing to let this lowlife get away with the mass amounts of pain and terror he’s inflicted on so many innocents.

“You like that, baby?” you snarl, letting your foot fly against his unprotected ribcage over and over again between sentences. “Does that feel good? Hmm?”

“You—“ The man cuts himself off with a hacked cough, spluttering and moaning as blood trickles down his chin. You’re not sure if that’s because you’ve kicked him in the face without noticing or because you’ve done enough damage to have already caused internal bleeding, but you’re not overly focused on figuring it out. “You psychotic— bitch,” he spits, and the hatred he gazes up at you with is so potent that you can’t help the wicked grin that curls across your mouth in response.

“That’s right,” you murmur, hovering your foot over the center of his chest for just a moment before digging your heel into his sternum. The harder you press, the louder he roars, and the louder he roars, the more you’re inclined to ensure that his screams continue. It’s a vicious cycle, but one you’re much too fond of to let go. “I’m a crazy, psychotic bitch because I’m a woman who stands up for herself and other women, and because I won’t let shitbags like you take advantage of us. Do you even know how old that girl was?”

His face contorts in pain, hands flying to your ankle in an attempt to pry your foot off his chest, but with one arm out of commission and pain proving to be too much of a distraction, he doesn’t manage to make any significant progress in alleviating your attacks. “Fuck you,” he hisses, but even to your ears, the vulgar words sound weak and reedy.

“I’m sure you’d like to,” you shoot back, digging your heel in that much further. You wait until you see tears welling in the corners of his eyes before letting any of the pressure up, and when you’re sure he’s hurting too badly to try and pull a fast one on you, you step off his chest and kneel to the ground, straddling his torso before your hands snake up to form a necklace at his throat. “You’re not used to girls fighting back, are you? You’re not used to anyone putting up a fight, and because of that you think you can just take whatever you want. Is that right?”

His eyes bulge out of their sockets as you begin to squeeze, hissed obscenities caught in his throat with nowhere to go, and the more he claws at the manacles your hands form, the tighter you let your grip become. It’s power, what you feel as you reconcile with the fact that you’re now quite literally holding this man’s life in your hands, and for a moment, you forget everything else. That you were only in this situation because you’d set out to save someone, that you’d sent that very same someone to go and fetch Spencer to come resolve all of this, that you weren’t an angel of death enacting revenge upon those who rightfully deserved what was coming to them. All those things washed away in the night, in just the same way as the beginning rainfall washed the man’s blood onto the ground in runny pink ribbons. It was only you and him, now. Nothing else mattered.

“You know, it’s men like you,” you snarl, squeezing so tightly against his throat that your knuckles go white and your fingers stiff, “that make people afraid to walk home alone at night. To send their kids off to college, to let their little ones grow up and experience the world. Because there are always— always monsters like you just waiting to take advantage of us. And no one’s ever made you pay for that, before, have they? That’s why you’re still so cocky, and confident enough to pull this shit out in the open because you know you’ll get away with it.”

Distantly, in the back of your mind, you think you hear someone calling your name. It’s hard to say for certain; with how focused you are on enacting revenge, on making sure this lowlife feels every single ounce of pain he’s ever managed to inflict on another unsuspecting human, your senses aren’t left with much more of an attention span. Even if they had been, you wouldn’t have bothered using it. Your fury, burning your nerves like hellfire, proves such a strong beacon of desire that you have no choice but to indulge. It feels good, the way his breath catches beneath where the heel of your palm digs into his throat, and you can tell by the way his eyes are beginning to cloud that if you keep it up, if you press just a little harder, squeeze just a little more—

Warm, strong arms snake around your middle, forming an inescapable cage of iron trying to pry you off the man beneath you, and the primal snarl that rips from your throat in response is a clear threat, but it does nothing to deter them. Hyperfixated as you are on finishing the job and ensuring that the man on the ground never lives to breathe another day, you don’t have the attention to spare, but your subconscious takes in the sharp scent of cloves filling your nostrils, the soft brush of curls against your shoulder, the domineering grip shackling your wrist maintaining a surprising air of gentleness. Your name is hurriedly whispered into your ear once, twice, three times, and by the fourth round you realize they’re not whispers at all — they’re shouts.

“Let go of him,” Spencer barks, bruising your ribs with how harshly he yanks you backwards. “Listen to me, listen to me. Let go of him.”

“Get off me!” you hiss in pain, stars dancing across your vision as you feel a slight bend in one of your bones, throwing an elbow back in retaliation. It lands square on his chest, and though the resulting grunt of pain he gives is certainly satisfying, it isn’t worth the grip you lose on the man’s neck. Once you’re down by one hand, it isn’t at all difficult for Spencer to wrench the second one back, and before you know it you’re a good ten feet down the alley, kicking and screaming wildly against Spencer’s grip as the monster you’d nearly strangled to death sputtered his way back to life.

“Calm down,” Spencer snaps, voice deep and low in your ear as he adjusts his grip around your torso so that you’re more fully pressed agains his body. “You need to breathe, do you hear me? Snap out of it. She’s okay. You got here in time and she’s okay. She’s safe, and you’re safe. Calm down. Calm down.”

You want to tell Spencer that he’s wrong. That you can’t be safe, that no one can be, so long as the man groaning on the ground across the alley is allowed to keep breathing. That this man can’t be allowed to live another day, waiting for the next opportunity to take advantage of an unsuspecting stranger who didn’t know any better. That it would be better to put him down now than to wait around for him to fuck up all over again, to ruin someone else’s life.

So you do.

Or, you try to. But all that manages to leave your mouth is little more than bent sobs and broken screams.

“It’s okay,” Spencer goes on, “it’s alright. Everything’s alright.” He uses the grip he’s got on your arm to spin you around, muffling your sobs as he brings your head against his chest and keeps it there with a gentle hand rested against the back of your head. Your body’s shaking so badly against his that, with your eyes still closed, you’re certain you’re still struggling to free yourself from his grip. It isn’t until you feel your fingers — numb with cold and shock and adrenaline — curl into his jacket that you realize you’re holding onto him for dear life. “Just breathe. Just breathe. You’re okay.”

“He was going to—“ You cut yourself off with a choked sob, shaking your head profusely. “He was going to—“

“I know,” Spencer murmurs, “I know. You don’t have to explain, just breathe.”

You hate this — that he’s caught you in such a vulnerable position, that he’s bearing witness to the rapid decline of your mental state. You hate that this is what it took to finally get him to wrap his arms around you, to offer words of reassurance and certainty rather than fixing you with unimpressed looks and exasperated eye rolls. Most of all, though, you hate that he’s now seen you at your worst, and that, going forward, he’ll never quite be able to dissociate you from the monster you truly are.

You don’t know how long he holds you there, murmuring insistent reassurances into your ear as he holds you gently to his chest. For how at odds it is with every other interaction you’d had with him — those ones where he’d roll his eyes, wave you off, regard you as little more than a vapid, spoiled brat who was all too used to getting her way — it’s nearly impossible to reconcile how you’d grown used to being treated with how you were being treated now. And though it’s certainly the last thing your mind should be focussing on, though you really don’t have the mental capacity required to work through this on top of everything else, you can’t help but come to the realization that you’re actually quite fond of the change.

A voice from across the alley cuts through the careful atmosphere of misguided comfort Spencer has crafted for you, and though he won’t let you turn around — actually goes so far as to squeeze his arms more tightly around your middle so that you can’t — the very sound of the man’s voice sends you dangerously close to the edge of the precipice all over again. “Are you… the fed that bitch was talking about?” His voice is hoarse, and half his words come out in broken hacks. It’s childish in the most juvenile of ways, but you can’t help the twinge of satisfaction that sparks to life in your blood. “Arrest her! She tried to kill me!”

“Actually,” Spencer mutters darkly in response, “from where I’m standing and from what that high school senior told me, she was only trying to stop you from committing assault. If anyone here is getting arrested tonight, it’s you.”

“Are you— are you fucking serious?” The blatant shock shooting his cracked voice up two octaves might have been funny, were the situation that led to it not so horribly severe. “She broke my fucking leg!”

“Thing is,” Spencer shoots back, never even missing a beat, “they do a lot worse to rapists in prison. I’d know— I’ve seen it.” The way his voice drops as the words tumble from his mouth catches your attention, but you don’t have the time to properly contemplate asking why before he’s going on. “You ask me, she went a little too easy on you. Remember that when you finally get what’s coming to you.”

And then Spencer’s calmly leading you away, maintaining a gentle yet firm grip on your waist to keep you from trying to look back. Even if you could, you don’t imagine you’d be much inclined to. You have no remorse for what you’d nearly done, and, truthfully, you’d left men in far worse states in the past. You know that; Spencer does, too. Yet, even in spite of that, even in spite of the fact that this was the second night he’d born witness to you attempting to kill a man, his touch on your body remains soft, and he curls over you like a protective blanket.

“We can’t just leave him,” you find the strength to whisper once you’ve put a healthy amount of distance between you and the alley’s opening. The street lights grow brighter the closer the two of you get to the bar, and you’d never admit it out loud, but it makes you feel that much safer. “He’ll get away. You need to… you need to go back.”

“I called the police as soon as I went to go check the bathroom,” Spencer tells you, leading you back into the safety of the bar. Suddenly surrounded by the sounds of raucous laughter and joyful whoops, it’s almost easy to forget what just occurred outside — almost. “They were on standby in case anything went wrong, but I had them hang back until I could get you out of there safely. They’re probably in the middle of cuffing him now.”

“And the girl?” you ask, so dazed that you don’t even protest or make any sort of snappy remark as Spencer gently helps you into a secluded corner booth. “She’s... you made sure she got home safe?”

“I called her a taxi and gave her my phone number,” Spencer answers, fixing you with as reassuring a stare as he can manage. “She’s going to give me a call in the morning about pressing charges. She was scared and a little banged up, but he didn’t... nothing happened. You stopped it before it could.”

You’re too weak to do anything with the knowledge but nod and sink down to the table, protectively covering your head with your arms as you squeeze your eyes shut and try to breathe. Dark thoughts, thoughts twisted in rage and a deeply intense need to protect, continue swirling through your mind, and if you’d thought catching your breath was impossible before, it’s effectively become something of an Olympic sport now, though the reasoning for why effectively evades your understanding. What you’d been through tonight, what you’d been ready to do to that man — if he could even be called a man — isn’t anything that’s never happened before. Hell, scum like that were the very reason you’d gotten caught up with Spencer in the first place.

But… something’s different now. You can tell by the way the oxygen rattles through your lungs, the way you can’t still your shaking fingers as they clatter against the tabletop. You don’t know what it is, where it’s come from, or how to stop it, but it’s there, and you can feel it.

Fingers softly brush up against one of your wrists, startling you so forcefully from your reverie that you can’t help the cry of shock that drops from your mouth as you yank your arm back with as much urgency as if you’d been burned. Seconds pass, then ten, then thirty, and even as your subconscious mind works double time to interpret the concerned light in Spencer’s eyes in response to his touch, you remain unable to fully come back to the present.

“You need to eat something,” he tells you, casting his eyes back down to the table. It’s a testament to how much time has passed that there are now two glasses of water covered in condensation that, up until this point, you’d not even been aware were present. “It’ll help with the shock.”

“I’m not going into shock,” you mutter, squeezing your hands together and resting them in front of you. Spencer catches sight, but if he has something to say about it he keeps it to himself. “And I’m not hungry. I just want to go home.”

“And I’ll take you there,” Spencer responds, metaphorically digging his feet in. “But you need to eat something first. And drink water.”

You roll your eyes, shakily moving to stand. “I’m not—“

“Sit down.” The hard glint in his eyes, sharp and metallic as a knife, makes it clear that he isn’t asking, and against your stubborn will, you immediately do as he commands. You want to think it’s simply because you’re too tired to fight back rather than too frightened or intimidated, but then, you can’t quite be sure. At least, not until Spencer leans across the table, insistently holding your gaze in something that you think might be a warning, and it’s only now that you realize he’s been holding back his frustration in favor of seeing to your needs, just as his composure begins to slip. “I told you to wait for me at the bar.”

“Yeah, you did,” you respond with a halfhearted roll of your eyes. “You should have known better.”

“No,” Spencer shoots back, “you should have listened to me. Instead you went and broke your word, all because you had something to prove to yourself.”

You can’t help but scoff in disbelief at Spencer’s implication, momentarily startled into genuine speechlessness. Those words hurt — so much so that you really weren’t inclined to admit that they did, lest Spencer think he have more power over you than you were actually willing to give him. So instead, you pushed back the hurt and leaned into the rage. It wasn’t healthy by any means, but at this point, you’d try just about anything to cut through the debilitating numbness medicating your senses at the moment.

“I didn’t break shit!” you hiss, repressing the urge to scream. “And if you really think I did what I did because I was thinking of myself, then you’re just as bad— no, scratch that, you’re… you’re even fucking worse than the rest of them!”

And you expect Spencer to launch some scathingly cruel insult back at you, one that cuts you deeper than you’d ever known words could be capable of, because Spencer’s a genius, after all, and he’s kept up with you enough over the years that he knows how to make an insult hurt if he wants it to. To your admitted surprise, though, he doesn’t open his mouth and hurl knives your way; he doesn’t even look at you like he wants to hurt you, in the way that you’re positive you’re looking at him. Instead, he only blinks down at you, carefully analyzing the expression on your face and the fury in your words before giving you any kind of response. It’s more than you deserve, really.

But Spencer’s soul has always struck you as kind.

“You could have gotten yourself hurt tonight,” he sighs, shaking his head in what you think could be disappointment. “You realize that, don’t you? That what you did was reckless and ridiculously stupid?”

You bark a harsh laugh in response to that, shaking your head as you go on squeezing your hands together. “In case you didn’t notice, I wasn’t the one in danger. Believe me, you didn’t have anything to worry about.”

“You said he’s escalated to killing girls after assaulting them,” Spencer presses, and it’s only as you minutely glance down at the table that you realize he’s curling his hands into fists of his own. “Did you ever stop to think that if he’d managed to overpower you, that could have happened to you too?

“Well it didn’t, did it?” you snap, searching for the power to quell your sudden annoyance. You know it’s misplaced; Spencer’s only doing his best to take care of you, without saying as much in so many words. You should be happier for it; after all, hadn’t you spent years attempting to get Spencer to consider you? To leave lasting impressions on his mind? To sneak your way into his late night, private, personal thoughts? Sure, on the surface it had all been more for show than anything else, but… even if he’d never known the truth, you certainly always did. “I’m fine. Okay? Fine. I’m not going into shock—“

“You’re certainly acting like you are.”

“— I’m not having a panic attack—“

“Again, you could have fooled me.”

“— and I’m not hungry! Okay? I’m not! I just want to go home!”

And it’s lucky that Spencer had the foresight to seat the both of you as far away from the general population of the bar as possible, lest any of the unsuspecting strangers hear the two of you squabbling over something so harrowing, but even if he hadn’t, you wouldn’t have cared enough to bother lowering your voice. All of these people, laughing, chatting, obliviously participating in their good times, and all the while an innocent girl had nearly been violated just a few buildings away out on the street. It wouldn’t have been their fault — really, the only person that should have been held accountable was hopefully being dragged to the police station at this very moment — but the fact that life could so casually go on while a child had to suffer the worst night of their life in silence just didn’t sit particularly well in your throat.

You inhale a deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut as you brace against the inky misery staining your senses. When you open them again, blinking through the stubborn tears trying to form in the brim of your eyes, you find Spencer carefully considering your face, and all you can do is hope he doesn’t notice the way your lip wobbles.

“I just want to go home,” you say again, hardly managing to get the words out in anything above a whisper. “Please, Spencer, just… I don’t… I can’t be here right now. Please just take me home.”

It’s hard to say what exactly takes the fight out of him. It could be the way you’ve said his name, softly, desperately, pleading in a manor which you’re certain he’s never heard from you before. But then, it could also be the tears welling in your eyes, far more conspicuous a sight than you’d have liked and one Spencer had only ever been confronted with once before. Whatever it is that’s done the trick, it prompts the softening of his gaze, along with the gentle downturn of the curve of his mouth. Just out of the corner of your eye, you think you see his fingers dancing hesitantly over the table top as they steadily migrate closer to yours, and though he doesn’t try to make contact with you this time, he manages to offer you an inexplicable amount of comfort as his fingers dance in a mirror image of the motions of yours.

“Okay,” Spencer concedes, frustration fading out of his expression to allow concern to take the lead. “If that’s what you need, then okay. But— just, put this on, at least.” Before you can interpret his meaning, he’s shrugging out of his jacket and pushing it across the table, and before you can protest, he’s pressing forward stubbornly. “It’s raining outside, you’re shaking, and that dress is gorgeous but it’s not going to stop you from catching hypothermia. Just wear it until we get to the car.”

He’s not leaving you a choice, judging by the glint in his eye that makes it clear he isn’t willing to hear any back talk on the subject. You consider doing so anyway — partly because you’re not sure you’re in the mood to take orders from Spencer, no matter how emotionally distressed you are, and partly because you’re afraid the weight of his jacket on your skin and the scent of his cologne in your nose would be just a bit too intimate for you to handle in this moment — but ultimately, you do as he asks, grabbing at the dark bundle of fabric and wrapping it around yourself like a blanket of protection.

It’s… warm. And it smells good, too. Embarrassing as it is, concentrating on further inhaling the scent of it — of him — is nearly enough to instantly cause your hands to cease their trembling.

“Let’s go,” Spencer murmurs, offering his hand as he stands from the table.

Wordlessly, you take it.

––

Part Two: Something of a Dangerous Game

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #cm fanfiction #spencer reid #mgg #matthew gray gubler #criminal minds #angst #hurt #comfort #semi fluff #unsub reader #tw assault #tw violence #tw language #tw blood mention

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friendofhayley · 3 years

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I’m back after my hiatus from fanfiction, to give y’all the best multifandom recs of the fics I read this month. Shoutout to all content creators who helped us live to see the close of this year. This fic includes 15 fics for Sterek, Larry, Winteriron, and Geraskier. The starred ones put me through heaven and hell *chef’s kiss*.

Sterek (Teen Wolf)

1. Six Letter Word for Romance by @troubleiwant | domestic kink - omg there’s only one bed - soft Derek - oblivious idiots in love - 6k

Stiles definitely starts off thinking it’s fucking hilarious that Derek-sourwolf-Hale does crosswords and cares about scuffs on his furniture.

But at a certain point, and he can’t pinpoint exactly when, “fully functional adult couple” somehow becomes a massive fetish of his. Derek in sweats and bare feet, nudging his glasses up his nose while he does the Sunday crossword? Unff. Derek filling out forms to get some renovations on his property approved? Oh God, yes. Derek putting away groceries and bitching that the corner store was out of the right type of Greek yogurt? Take me now, Stiles thinks, worrying at his lower lip with his teeth.

This can’t be normal.

2. *Dirty Little Secret* by @isthatbloodonhisshirt | Cora & Stiles bffs - no one can resist the Stilinski charm - celebrity Derek - human au - 91k

“Holy shit, this is a date!” he blurted out, turning back to Derek wide-eyed. “This is a date! You intended for this to be a date, this was supposed to be a date!” He figured if he said it enough times, maybe he would believe it, but so far, no dice.

Derek was scowling again—seriously, did he want wrinkles?—but he just reached into one of the bags and pulled out a burger, checking what was written on the foil in sharpie before handing it over to Stiles.

“Of course it’s a date, what did you think this was?”

3. Can You Feel A Whole New Part of Your World? by @isthatbloodonhisshirt | i genuinely don’t look at authors names i just click i am sorry for spamming you but you write too good - neighbors Sterek - emotionally mature Stiles - the ideal fluffy world you’d want to live in - 53k

Can you hear me singing in the shower?” Stiles blurted out, because he had to know, now. If one of his neighbours had slid that note under his door, then it meant Parrish as another neighbour could hear him, too! He had to know if this was all a huge joke and one person had walked by and overheard him and decided to fuck with him.

Parrish gave him a weird look at the question, but answered anyway, making Stiles’ plans to leave the country speed up in his mind.

“Of course I can. You’re actually not bad. Though you have been singing a lot of Frozen lately, getting kind of tired of the soundtrack.”

4. Theory of Overprotective Canines by @petals42 | derek can turn into wolf - oblivious Stiles - future fic - mutual pining - 11k

Stiles is totally looking forward to living alone in his super cool apartment off-campus. He is. He is also very excited to bike to school every day, ready to set up an awesome game room, and definitely over his crush on Derek Hale. Completely over it.

Or at least he is until Derek decides he's moving in with him. And then turns out to be the perfect roommate. And then starts attending all his classes. As a wolf.

This is not going according to plan.

Larry (One Direction)

5. **The Changer and the Changed** by @homosociallyyours | literally the best fic of all time i want to live in there - girl direction - NYC ‘70s au - trans Zayn - the girls are so lovely - 59k

It’s the spring of 1977 and Harry Styles has just moved to New York City after graduating college. She knows she’s a lesbian. She just needs to figure out how to meet other lesbians.

Louis Tomlinson works at a popular women’s bookstore in the Lower East Side, Womon’s Direction, where she spends her days reading feminist literature, writing poetry, exchanging friendly barbs with her boss Niall, and dreaming of finding someone to love.

When Harry and Louis meet, their connection is instantaneous. Slowly but surely, Louis welcomes Harry into her community of women. Stonewall veteran and old school butch Niall; Liam, a land dyke who’s moved to the city for love; and Zayn, a lesbian musician who’s been ostracized by a vocal part of women’s community for being trans, welcome Harry with open arms, ready to help her find her place in New York City’s bustling lesbian scene.

6. others i’ve seen might never be mean (but they would never do) by @cherrylouvol6 | aaaaaaaa it’s lesbian When Harry Met Sally !!! - rom com - girl direction - coming out and first times - really great sex - 20k

Louis sighs.

“Do you remember what I said to you the first time we met?”

“That I’m naive and neurotic and would be hard pressed to ever find someone who could put up with me?” Harry snaps.

7. some things fade (some never do) by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed | aaaaaa this story took me apart and back together again just like Louis and Harry - urban fantasy au - second chances - exes to friends to lovers - hurt/comfort - 25k

Matching tattoos. He’d never thought he’d be the type for tattoos to begin with, let alone matching or magical ones, but once Harry had put the idea in his mind it had never quite managed to disappear. And it had made sense. With their relationship a long distance one, this was simply another way of feeling close to one another. Of knowing where the other was, how they felt. It had made so much sense.

Back then.

8. we can take the long way home by @eleadore | i usually don’t rec my porn but there’s so much feels in this one - canon-divergent - kink discovery - friends to lovers - this was written in 2015 as a future fic but it felt like it was taking place now so good job - 27k

“Fertile,” Louis says, and then laughs because it sounds stupid to say out loud. He hasn’t ever really thought of himself in those terms. Baby-making terms. It’s just one of those things his body can do, like exercise, or go without tea. Doesn’t mean he will.

Winteriron (MCU)

9. **Dig No Graves** by @missaphelion | Tony finds out about his parents right after winter soldier au - Tony Stark has a heart - Bucky heals with bots and lots of sugar - slow burn - 142k

"I'm here to kill you, Terminator," Tony said slowly, "does that compute?"

The soldier looked up at him with wide blue eyes and no expression. "Okay."

Tony froze. "Okay," he echoed. "I tell you I came here to kill you and your response is 'okay'?"

10. A Rifling Matter by Penndragon27 | Winter Soldier has such a big crush on Tony’s weapons, he escapes Hydra au - identity porn - pining Bucky - fluff and angst - Winter Soldier is a fanboy and it’s cute - 37k

All the Asset knows is fighting, killing.

He also knows a good weapon when he sees one and Stark Industries... they make some great weapons.

11. *Winter is Coming (aka Fifty First Avengers Dates)* by @tisfan & @everyworldneedslove | enemies to friends to lovers to 50 first dates - pining Bucky - Tony gets amnesia - no Steve bashing but he’s a little bit of an ass - mental health issues - 109k

Bucky Barnes is still mostly The Asset, and he's pretty sure Hydra is going to come back for him soon, so in the meantime he's just going to keep an eye on the Avengers for them. But then Clint spotted him hiding in the shadows, so Tony came out and dragged Bucky back to the Tower, threw him in the shower, and fed him cheeseburgers.

Now The Asset is having anomalous feelings. In his pants.

Geraskier (The Witcher)

12. *no reason to run* by @yoursummerfrost | different meeting au - only one bed but camping - cursed Jaskier - soft Geralt!!!! - poly negotiations - 61k

"You'll change your mind one day," says the innkeep. "The road can't love you back."

What a strange way to flatten something so beautiful, Jaskier thinks. What a small way to love.

13. *He Fell into a Faerie Ring* by @geraltnoises | Jaskier gets bardnapped after the fight au - non-human Jaskier - soft Geralt - Jaskier encourages people to be kind and becomes a god - emotionally mature Geralt - 57k

Traders are a gossiping sort. If there was a scandal within the noble houses of Posada, you’d hear about it in Cretegor by the end of the week. So, the quick spread of a rumor about a little village in the Kestrel Mountain range was not at all surprising. What was surprising was the story that the traders wove. They said that Luibhtorrach, a sad, ghost of a farming town, had miraculously become a hub for trade, as if overnight. Their lands unbelievably fertile and brimming with crop. Even stranger, each and every one of Luibhtorrach’s people professed that their good fortune was the work of a mysterious beast they’d claimed as their personal deity. Most recent news foretold of their plans to throw a midsummer festival celebrating this newfound god. In preparation, silken blue banners were erected in every corner of the town, each bearing the symbol of their new patron: A delicate dandelion wrapping around a golden sun.

14. Barking Up the Wrong Tree by KHansen | 5+1 things - I’m worried about Geralt’s skills - non-human Jaskier - monsterfucker Geralt - crack treated seriously - 11k

Geralt is 100% certain that Jaskier is a vampire.

He's 100% proven wrong.

15. Bardic Idyll by Lisztful | fake relationship - Geralt is soft and oblivious - pining - fluff and angst - Jaskier you can’t show your emotions mainly through song! - 13k

Jaskier is certain he can win the Continent's annual bardic competition, but he needs to be accompanied by a dashing romantic companion in order to enter. Enter Geralt, who is definitely, for sure, only interested in the free food, and not at all in staring lovingly into Jaskier's eyes.

#monthly fic rec #fic rec #sterek fic rec #larry fic rec #winteriron #geraskier #larrie hijinks #witcher #mcu

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