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twdeadfanfic · 3 years

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Feral Pt. 8

Daryl Dixon x OC

Summary: Daryl is on a run with Rick when, in a warehouse, they find a woman who attacks them, and who reminds Daryl to a lioness…or a feral cat, and who doesn’t seem to trust anyone, including them, but Daryl finds himself going back to the warehouse, trying to get that feral to go with him to the prison, and to earn her trust.

Chapter 8/10

Last chapter...Daryl and Dana kissed!

You can find my other fics in my masterlist.

Back at the prison, Daryl felt all eyes on him and Dana, as if people knew what had happened between them, that they were now together as a couple, though probably it was all in his head, there was no way for them to know. It wasn’t that he wanted to keep it secret, not at all, but he couldn’t help but feel a bit shy about it, besides he was sure Rick was going to have the time of his life teasing him about it.

Dana, though, didn’t seem to mind at all that people looked at them or what they thought, or if they seemed to notice something different between them, or if it was all in Daryl’s head. On their way to the kitchen area to clean their hunted pieces, they walked near Kate, and when she looked at them, Dana held to Daryl’s arm and rubbed the side of her head against his arm like she had done the day before to “mark him as hers.”

Daryl blushed, couldn’t help it, getting flustered and shy, but he also couldn't help his snort. Was she really jealous? Daryl thought it was ridiculous, but at the same time, the idea sent something weird to his belly. He didn’t think anyone had been jealous over him ever before. She had no reason to feel like that, though, and Daryl hoped she knew. Dana looked at him and smiled, but she didn’t seem upset, if something she seemed amused, and she headbutted his shoulder softly once more.

“Come on, kitten,” Daryl said, couldn’t help his soft, silly smile as he looked at her, ignoring everyone around even if for a second. “Let’s clean this and get it ready to stew it.”

That evening, Daryl was torn between having dinner with Dana in any of their cells, like sometimes they did even if now Dana dealt better with people and sometimes dined in the canteen, or going with everyone else. It wasn’t strange for him to dine alone, everyone knew it by now, but sometimes during dinner he got the chance to catch up with the others, especially if it had been a busy day, and today, he and Dana had come back pretty later than usual. Yes, they had kind of gotten distracted here and there, Daryl still couldn’t wrap his mind around the idea of Dana kissing him, wanting to be with him, couldn’t help the weird things in his belly, and every time Dana caught him looking at her like that, in wonder and awe, she’d seem amused and she’d stop to kiss him again, which had proven to be pretty distracting. But still, they had managed to hunt quite a few pieces, and so Daryl didn’t feel too guilty.

Since it was later than usual while they cleaned their pieces, Daryl offered to get dinner ready too, letting the grateful guy on kitchen duty had some more free time, and Dana helped him to get everything ready to make stew in several big pots, so it’d last them for more than that night.

“So…what you wanna do, eat with everyone else or alone?” Daryl asked while they cleaned everything.

“Don’t care.” Dana shrugged. “Maggie and Glenn were planning runs.”

“Alright, we can go have dinner with everyone else, see if they have come up with somethin’?”

“Alright.” Dana shrugged again, and then, while Daryl was distracted putting a pot in its place, she suddenly tugged at him and pecked his lips, taking him by surprise, and Daryl couldn’t help the blush that tinted his cheeks. It seemed to be the reaction that Dana was looking for, as she smiled, seeming amused. They had just been together for a few hours, and she’d already proved that she liked to get him all flustered when he least expected it. It made him feel silly, and yet, Daryl couldn’t help his small, bashful smile. Chewing on his lip, he pushed past his shyness to wrap his arm around Dana, holding her to his side.

“Come on, kitten, let’s feed these people.”

While they had dinner sat down with the others, Daryl tried to pay attention to what Maggie and Glenn were saying, really tried, but sometimes it seemed as if his eyes wanted to wander to Dana, who was sat down near him, his mind still in awe at the idea of them being now together, that she wanted him like that, and even though it still made him nervous and maybe even a bit, just a bit, scared, whenever his eyes wandered to her, Dana would look at him too, a tiny smile tugging at the corner of her lip, and Daryl couldn’t stop his own, looking away quickly every time before he got too flustered.

He was afraid the others noticed that something was going on, though, he could already see Rick smirking and arching his eyebrows at him, and Daryl rolled his eyes, looking away from Rick and towards Glenn and Maggie, but they too seemed kind of amused, though Daryl hoped that it was his mind playing tricks on him. He’d teased and made fun of Glenn and Maggie sometimes getting caught up on each other, oblivious to everything else, and now it seemed as if he was doing the same, but he couldn’t help it, even if it was embarrassing.

“You think they know ‘bout us?” Daryl asked to Dana when they were in the corridor at the outside of their cells, and she smirked and nodded. “Oh…” He couldn’t help his shyness.

Dana frowned. “Don’t want them to?”

“No…just…I don’t care, just…” Daryl honestly didn’t care what the other thoughts, and still, his shyness was there. “Just…”

“Shy,” Dana smirked and Daryl was glad that she didn’t think he might be embarrassed about being with her or something stupid like that.

“Yeah…I guess…” Daryl admitted, looking down and fidgeting. “Ain’t lookin’ forward to them joking’and teasin’…” He guessed he’d have it coming for having messed like that with Maggie and Glenn…and yet… “Rick’s bein’ a prick and teasin’ me about you since you came here already.”

“Yeah?” Dana’s smirk went bigger. “About?”

“Nothing, he was just bein’ stupid on purpose…” Daryl shrugged, though now that he thought about it, maybe Rick hadn’t been so stupid after all. Dana didn’t say anything, but suddenly she was tugging at him to peck his lips, once more taking him by surprise.

“It’s fun,” she said. “Teasing you.”

Daryl scoffed, flustered, hating that once again he was blushing. “Pff…maybe you’re spendin’ too much time with Rick lately…”

Dana grinned. “It’s fun. ‘Cause you’re shy.”

“Yeah, whatever…” Daryl rolled his eyes, scoffing, but his burning cheeks betrayed him. “Let’s get some sleep.”

“Can I sleep here?” Dana nodded towards his cell.

“You uh…you wanna?”

Dana shrugged. “Only if you do.”

“Yeah…” Daryl nodded, swallowing hard.

He didn’t know what to do, and so he went directly to the unmade bed, sitting down on it as Dana walked behind him, and kicking off his boots before lying down on the bed without even thinking about changing clothes, his mind too busy at the idea of Dana joining him to sleep…The cot was small, and Daryl hoped she wouldn’t be uncomfortable, or that he’d push her or kick her while they slept, or something, and she’d decide to leave and go back to her cell… Maybe he should drag another mattress there like Maggie and Glenn had done…or maybe he had gotten ahead of himself…or maybe…

Daryl lost his train of thoughts when he realized that after taking off her boots, Dana was pulling off her trousers too, and Daryl didn’t know if she did it to sleep more comfortable or if she was just trying to mess with him and get him all flustered again, or both, but he tried his best not to look away, not to get flustered, failing only a tiny bit.

Dana looked at him and Daryl lied down on the bed, moving towards the wall to leave room for her on the bed. Dana lied down, propping herself on an elbow to look at him, smiling softly, and Daryl swallowed hard, feeling those butterflies in his belly again. She reached out her other hand to softly caress his face and hair, and Daryl’s eyes closed as a content sigh escaped his lips.

��Shy. But cute,” Dana whispered, and then she leaned to kiss his lips, and Daryl didn’t try to fight her words, too busy kissing her. Dana pulled back, smiling at him, before she lied down, resting her head on his chest and throwing an arm over him, and even one of her legs, snuggling to him as much as possible, and Daryl couldn’t help but love the feeling.

Daryl wrapped his arm around her, holding her to him, and when he began to stroke her arm softly, he swore he could almost hear her purr like an actual cat. “Night, kitten,” he whispered, kissing the top of her head, and Dana snuggled even more to him, holding to his shirt as if she didn’t want to let go of him, and…Daryl would be lying if he didn’t say that he loved it. It still might feel unreal and a bit scary, this having a relationship thing, but…it felt too good, being snuggled on bed with Dana, good enough for him to want to not overthink it and just enjoy it for once.

When Daryl woke up, Dana was still snuggled to him, lying over his chest, face almost buried on the crook of his shoulder, and Daryl couldn’t help how content he felt or the smile that spread across his face. He tightened his arm around her and nuzzled her hair, wondering if he’d ever felt like this before, so warm, and content and just…so good.

Maybe having a relationship didn’t have to be scary after all, maybe things would be the same between them, but now he could hold her to him, kiss her, and all the things that made him feel those bubbly butterflies in his belly, making him feel a bit silly, but at the same time, too good to care about it being silly or not.

He felt Dana pressing her lips against his neck and then she was looking up from his shoulder to give him a lazy smile. “Morning, kitten,” Daryl said quietly, reaching out to brush her knuckles across her cheek gently, a bit in awe about being waking up with her, about how it made him feel, but the gesture of affection seemed to come naturally to him somehow.

Dana nuzzled his neck again and she shifted to straddle his hips, looking down at him. She smiled again, reaching down to caress his face softly and then run her fingers through his hair, before she leaned to kiss his lips, and Daryl could swear that he felt himself melt. When their lips parted, Daryl had his eyes still closed, and he felt Dana placing kisses along his neck. He took a sharp breath when Dana sucked on his skin, and she pulled away to look at him.

“Okay?” She asked and Daryl nodded. Dana smiled and kissed his lips softly before going for his neck again. “Mine…” She murmured before she sucked on his neck again, and Daryl wondered if she was actually trying to mark him. He snorted but couldn’t help but get a bit flustered too, and he reached to cup her face, gently making Dana look at him.

“Hey…you ain’t really jealous are you,” he asked softly and Dana didn’t say anything. “You don’t gotta be…there’s…” Daryl chewed on his lip, trying to push past his shyness. Dana was sat down on his lap, without trousers, how in the world he was still shy, but talking about feelings had never been his forte. “There’s no one else I’d like to…to be like I’m with you, to have what we have.”

Dana smiled at that, caressing his face again before kissing his lips. “I’m yours,” she whispered, and Daryl couldn’t stop the butterflies in his belly even if he was flustered too. “Don’t want to be with anyone else.” Daryl’s heart was beating hard against his chest and he didn’t know what to say, and so he decided to just pull Dana even closer and kiss her lips again.

Eventually, Dana sat up, looking down at him, running her hands down his chest and Daryl chewed on his lip as she looked at her above him, swallowing hard when one of Dana’s hands found its way under his shirt, Dana smiled softly at him when she noticed it.

“Shy…” She whispered, pecking his lips before Daryl could try to negate it, no matter he was blushing. “Cute,” she whispered before pecking the tip of his nose, and somehow the gesture made Daryl feel like he was melting again. Dana sat up again and smiled at him softly before nodding towards the closed door of the cell. “Hunting?”

Despite the dark sheet that covered the door of his cell, Daryl could see light outside, filtering into the cell, and he knew it was later than usual. He could hear people’s voices around too, the prison waking up. “Yeah…” He nodded, he couldn’t spend all day lying in bed with Dana…Daryl didn’t think he had ever wanted to spend the day in bed, he’d drive himself crazy with the inactivity, but maybe that was before he had Dana in bed with him, snuggled to him and kissing him, and…and he really needed to start moving.

Daryl sat up, Dana still on his lap, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, kissing him again before he could do anything, and he let out a sound of surprise against her lips before he found himself melting into her again. Dana pulled back as suddenly as she had kissed him, and she got up from his lap, stepping out of the bed. She bent down and picked up her discarded trousers, walking to the door and lifting the curtain without bothering to put the trousers on.

“You’re gonna just go out with no trousers on?” Daryl snorted, but it didn’t surprise him.

Dana shrugged. “My cells next to yours.” She left his cell but reappeared a few minutes later, fully dressed, looking at him from the door while Daryl finished getting ready too, tying his boots.

“Let’s grab some breakfast and get going,” he told her and Dana nodded. As he stepped out of his cell, Daryl glanced towards hers and then at her, chewing on his lip. “You uh…if you wanna…if you wanna you can move your stuff to my cell?” Daryl couldn’t help his nerves as he looked at her, wondering if he was getting ahead of himself, if he shouldn’t have asked, he was a bit clueless in this having a relationship thing, but to his relief, Dana grinned and nodded, before suddenly pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

Daryl couldn’t help the blushing of his cheeks, and that his first instinct was to look around, see if someone had caught them kissing, and yet when Dana smiled softly at him and reached down to take his hand, lacing her fingers with his and tugging at him to walk with her, he found that he couldn’t really care about someone seeing them holding hands. They were together, and if it made him feel that good, then there was no point feeling embarrassed or anxious about it, when he could just let himself enjoy it for once.

Daryl woke up once again with Dana in his arms, and even after weeks together, it still made him smile and snuggle to her, content and warm. He found himself lazing in bed too often now, when before he usually jumped out of it to get things done, go out to the woods…but he couldn’t help himself with Dana there, lying next to him, curled up to him.

Dana was lying on her side and she seemed still asleep, her warm back pressed against his chest as Daryl curled up around her, tightening the arm that he had wrapped around her. Daryl kissed her shoulder and then nuzzled her hair, letting out a content sigh. He felt Dana waking up and then she turned around in his arms to give him a lazy smile before pecking his lips, and she burrowed her face on his chest, snuggling to him and wrapping her arms around him too.

“We have to go hunting,” Daryl murmured though he didn’t move a bit, and Dana hummed and nodded without moving either. “You make me lazy…” Daryl complained, chuckling.

Dana pulled back to look at him, arching an eyebrow, seeming amused. “Me?”

“Yeah, you…” Daryl nuzzled her neck, smiling when she laughed as he tickled her. “Being like this.”

“Like what?” Dana reached out to stroke his hair, brushing it away from his face but Daryl just shrugged, he didn’t know how to explain to her everything that she made him feel, and he felt too shy to try to say it aloud. He hoped she understood it without words, though. Dana smiled softly, kissing his lips before pulling back. “Come on. Hunt.”

Waking up with Dana in his arms, lying over his chest, was not strange or surprising for Daryl anymore, but it felt as good as the first day, and it made him as lazy as the first day, wanting to just snuggle on the bed with her, warm and content, for a little bit. It was early enough that he didn’t have to hurry out of the bed, early enough for him to allow himself to be lazy even if just for a moment…They had to go on a run, but the prison was still dark and silent. Daryl nuzzled Dana’s hair softly, wrapping his arm more tightly around her when he felt her waking up, snuggling to him even more.

Daryl was caressing her hair carefully and then he let his fingers brush over her shoulder and neck, moving over the scar that marked her skin down her neck and to her back without realizing it, until he felt Dana freezing in his arms. “Sorry…” He apologized in a whisper.

“They marked me like cattle,” she said bitterly.

Daryl kept stroking her shoulder as he chewed on his lip, unsure about asking her or not… “Who did this?”

“Assholes.”

“Yeah, I…I had figured that much…” Daryl didn’t press it, though, just kept stroking her skin softly, curled up with her, and he was about to tell her that they should stop being lazy and get to work, they had to go to a run, when Dana spoke.

“I was alone, had been for days, a group of men found me…thought they were going to help me, they said they would…they didn’t. Took me to their settlement, old campsite, big…there were two women there, they didn’t look at me, didn’t talk to me, seemed scared, I didn’t like it, I tried to walk away, they didn’t let me…then I saw cages, there were people in them…” Dana explained quietly, and Daryl had to wonder again how there were so many fucked up people in the world, now all teaming up, it seemed.

“They wanted me to clean the place with the other two women and have sex with them. I bit off the lip of the one who tried to kiss me…”

Daryl could almost see it, but he wished he could actually see it, see his feral kitten biting off the lip of an asshole who tried to force himself on her…he was boiling in anger but tried to keep it down, and he kissed the top of Dana’s hair.

“They were angry…held me and beat me…I thought they’d kill me but they didn’t, threw me in one of the cages. There were some men and women in them, some were hurt. Nobody spoke to me or looked at me. I didn’t know what was going on…” Dana kept going, and Daryl thought it was the longest he’d heard her speak, and so he stayed quiet, letting her do it, wanting to know and also wanting her to get it out of her system.

“I found out at night. Each night, those assholes got bored and drunk, picked up two people from the cages, gave them knives, made them fight until one of them was dead. Someone told me that the ones who tried to resist it and didn’t fight, were shot and killed…so they killed you and your rival if you didn’t fight. They branded us with irons, made patterns and marks so they knew who we belonged to, would take bets to see whose fighter would win.” Daryl had seen a lot of shit both before walkers and after, but that was more than sick.

“Whenever they picked me, I’d fight…I killed people. I…I didn’t want to…I didn’t…but…a man pointed the gun to my head, told me to finish the job or he’d kill me and then the other person…so I…I…I did it…every night they picked me…I’d kill the other person before they, or the men, killed me…but I didn’t want to…I didn’t…”

Dana looked up from his chest, tears falling down her eyes as she swallowed hard, and Daryl didn’t think he’d ever seen her looking like that. He hated it, it hurt, it was a dart to the heart, and he hated that she’d gone through something like that. He couldn’t imagine it. “I know, kitten, I know…” He whispered, trying to comfort her, to reassure her, wishing that he knew how to make it better, hating that he didn’t know what to do or say. He kissed her lips, tasting her tears, before Dana snuggled to him again, tight, and Daryl wrapped his arms around her, holding her to his chest tightly, feeling her shaking.

“So I…I kept killing…until I was picked every night…until…until there was nobody else in the cages but me…” Dana swallowed hard. “I thought that they’d kill me now, I had murdered all those people just to be killed anyway. But they said they were going out to find more people…or walkers for me to fight, if they didn’t find anything else. Left a couple of men watching the place. Idiots. Called for one of them, took off my clothes, told him I was bored and to get in the cell with me. Idiot. He thought I was going to unzip his pants, I took the knife from his belt, slit his throat. Went for the other man, gutted him before he could shot me. The two women were scared, told them I’d help them but they…they seemed scared of me…wouldn’t let me close…they took some stuff and ran away…”

On one side, Daryl thought that those women were idiots, but on the other, he could understand them a bit, he’d seen how Dana could be when she got feral, and the women had seen her fighting and killing people every night, even if she was forced to do so, and Daryl could see her, maybe naked and bloodied after killing the two men. Still, probably those women would have been better off with her, safer and protected.

“I didn’t run. Went to the armory, took a riffle. Climbed on top of their lookout, waited for the other men to come back, shoot at them all. All the bullets. They didn’t see it coming. Then I left…was on my own until Rick and you found me.” Dana didn’t say anything else, and Daryl didn’t know what to say either, he was afraid of saying the wrong thing, but it felt wrong to just stay silent after Dana had told him everything.

“I…uh…I’m sorry…” Daryl muttered, it was lame but he didn’t know what else to say, and he felt Dana nodding. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.” If only he could take her pain and trauma from her…”I uh…”

Daryl hated that he didn’t know what to say, that he wasn’t good with words. Dana didn’t seem to mind, she sat up, stroking his cheek and leaning to kiss it before she pulled back again. “We got a run. Come on.”

“Wait…” Daryl sat up and wrapped his arms around Dana before she could pull back, and he kissed her forehead, feeling pleased when it made her smile. “Nothing like that it’s ever gonna happen to you again, alright? I ain’t gonna let that happen,” Daryl assured her and Dana nodded in silence. “Not that you need me, I’ve seen you fighting, you’re a lioness…” Daryl murmured shyly, but he meant it, when he saw Dana’s smirk,he didn’t care about shyness anymore. Still, even if she was badass and a fighter, a survivor, so strong and skilled, Daryl would do anything in his hand to keep her safe, to take care of her, to protect her life with his if needed. He had the feeling that Dana thought the same about him, though. “But…I ain’t letting anyone hurt you ever again.”

Dana gave him that small half-smile. “I know,” she whispered before leaning to kiss his lips, and when she pulled back, Daryl leaned to hold his forehead against hers.

“Thank you for telling me all that,” he told her quietly. “I know it ain’t easy…I appreciate it. Thank you.”

Dana nodded, her forehead nudging his. “I trust you,” she whispered, and somehow, her words alone made Daryl feel like he could melt as something twirled in his belly.

“And I trust you too,” he murmured.

Dana pulled back and smiled at him. “I’m not letting anyone hurt you either,” she said quietly before kissing his lips again. “Come on. We got a run.”

The run was as good as it could go. As always, they didn’t find as many stuff as they’d have wanted, but that was usual, everything was scarcer and scarcer each new run, and Daryl knew they were lucky they had the prison with orchards, farming and hunting their own food, building their own stuff, for when every place ran dry and there wouldn’t be a chance to find stuff on runs as often anymore. But nobody had been hurt, and that was the important thing.

There had been walkers around, and so Daryl had seen once more how Dana could go from the kitten that shared his bed and snuggled to him, to the feral cat that fought walkers ferociously, viciously sinking her knife into their heads. She was skillful but sometimes it worried Daryl how she just threw herself at walkers, no matter that she always came on top, dead bodies piling up around her. Whenever he told her, though, Dana just rolled her eyes and pecked his lips to shut him up and, Daryl was pretty sure, to get him flustered too.

It always came to his mind how Rick, Carol, and the others always told him to be careful when on runs he didn’t think it twice about throwing himself at walkers, putting them down before they could hurt any of his family, trusting his skill…now he was experiencing first hand how it was to worry about someone doing the same, though if he was honest, he still did it. But now, they had each other, Dana and him, fighting together, having each other’s back, protecting their family, making sure no walker or any threat could get to them, and even if he’d be embarrassed to say it aloud. Daryl sometimes, sometimes, allowed himself to think that maybe together, they could be unstoppable.

We got fluff, and Dana’s backstory, and more fluff. I hope you liked the chapter. If you did, please let me know your thoughts in a comment, and as always, reblogs are more tha welcome. We got back to action next chapter! (But, no, won’t follow the prison show plotline).

As always, excuse my English.

I’ll reblog this with the taglist in a second.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon/oc #daryl dixon x oc #daryl dixon & oc #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fix

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secret-rendezvous1d · 3 years

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Omg omg omg That last Spencer ask you replied to- I can’t- I. Literally. Can’t. I’m in tears 😭😭 could you keep it going with the scene in the hospital? Instead of Garcia taking care of Spencer and shooting the one unsub it’s y/n and she’s so on the edge with all that adrenaline from the day that she collapses on Spencer’s hospital bed? Or a scene of her taking him home afterwards and looking after him?xxx you literally save my day with your blurbs

Okay, this one hurt me more-

Long blurb, I know... but I’m not sorry for that. This spewed out of me like a bunch of word vomit so I do apologise for lack of sense but I’m not sorry for the length.

* mentions of guns, injury, hospitals, drugs/medication *

“It should have been me.”

Blake admits with such a tentative tone, like she was terrified of an explosive confrontation over something she already felt terribly about, her eyes bouncing around the room so she could look at anything by YN’s worried face. The long silence of the waiting room being broken by her timid confession.

“It could have been anyone. It’s just his luck that it happened to him,” YN says, a soft smile on her lips as she looks up from picking her fingernails and aims her emotions towards the nervous woman opposite her, “it could have been me, it could have been any one of us-”

“He pushed me out the way,” she clarifies, “it should have been me.”

YN can see the guilt written across her face and it broke her to bits; there was no reason for blame to be put on anyone and there was no need for the ‘what should have happened’s and the ‘who it should’ve been’s and YN wasn’t going to let Blake blame herself as the reason why Spencer was shot in the field. The downside to the job, whilst it looked thrilling and managed to keep you on your toes, was knowing that anything like this could happen at any moment and they had to take it as it came and not dwell on when or how it would happen to who ever was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Spencer just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Don’t blame yourself,” YN sits up in her chair and reaches over, placing her hand on Blake’s knee and squeezing in reassuringly, “I don’t blame you for what happened and Spencer definitely wouldn’t blame you for what happened.”

“Won’t,” she retorts at YN’s use of tenses and it made the young girl stiffen in her seat. She’d really spoken as if all of her hope and her faith had fizzled away, like he he wasn’t going to survive the chances, and she wanted to slap herself on the wrist for delving that deep. For not believing in the strength he had to get through. “He won’t blame me.”

“He won’t,” YN repeats, “he’ll make it through. Spence is a strong guy, he won’t give up without a fight.”

She gives her Blake’s knee one more reassuring squeeze and she gives her a tight-lipped smile, because she really couldn’t bear to be happy and give off a bright spark under the circumstances, before she sat back and took a look at the clock. He’d been under for almost two hours and YN was beginning to lose all track of existence, like time was slipping away and becoming something that never existed, lost in her thoughts.

They still had so much they wanted to do together.

They wanted to travel the world together and create a book full of memories on how they spent their time in different countries and Spencer taught her about all of the different cultures, they poke about marriage and the kind of wedding they wanted to have, they spoke about having kids and threw around some of their favourite baby names like she was about to give birth, and he’d brought them tickets to a film festival that he had been eager to take her to and that she had been excited to go to because it was a date night and special date nights were rare when working in the Behavioural Analysis Unit of the FBI; they took any chance they got to treat each other and spend time with one another outside of the office.

What felt like another two hours had really one been twenty minutes when they were given permission to see him.

“How is he?”

YN stands to her feet in a haste, grabbing the bag full of Spencer’s belongings as the surgeon came to a halt in the middle of the waiting room. His explanation waiting until YN was fully stood in front of him so she could take in what he was about to tell her, her mind expecting the worst but her heart expecting the good news she had been silently manifesting and praying for.

“He’s incredibly lucky,” the surgeon explains, “two millimetres to the right and the bullet would have torn through the carotid artery.”

And he didn’t have to speak in Layman's terms for YN to understand just how lucky he really was. Watching him get shot was one thing, watching his barely conscious body being dragged from the danger was another thing... but being there as he bled out and essentially bled to death? That would have been the end of her career because she couldn’t do it without him.

“It nicked some small vessels but,” he smiles at YN and her knees are like jelly as she wobbles on her legs, “we stopped the bleeding. You can see him now.”

Seeing him so vulnerable in his hospital bed made her melt.

All sorts of emotions were running through her veins; she felt scared because all she could think about was something going wrong in his recovery, she felt sad because watching her boyfriend get shot wasn’t what she had expected and it shouldn’t have ever been something she witnessed, she felt angry because he could have prevented it from happening if he believed Blake had the situation handled, but she felt happy and she felt like crying happy tears because she felt like the world was back to normal now that he was awake and awaiting the one person he wanted to see.

“Hi,” he smiles sweetly and lifts a hand up to wave at her but it wasn’t so strong and he sounded sleepy and she couldn’t blame him for that, “come sit with me. I missed you.”

“I’m mad at you,” she states, arms folding over her chest as she stood in the doorway and took in his appearance; disheveled hair that stood in all directions, a bandage around his neck that kept his wound covered and safe from any kind of infection it could pick up, tubes and wires connected to him as the room fills with the rhythmic beeps from his heart monitor, “I’m really mad at you.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers and there’s sincerity in his voice. He hoped she wasn’t going to be mad at him but she was (or so he thought) and that wasn’t what he had intended with his actions back at the crime scene. “Please, come sit with me though? You don’t have to talk to me. Just, sit so I know you’re safe here.”

She was never going to walk away.

The seat beside him looked comfier than the waiting room chairs anyway so she would have been a fool to ignore his plea in keeping him company. She sets his belongings at the foot of his bed and steps further into the room, the heat coming from the radiator feeling so tingly against her exposed skin, and she shrugs off her jacket so she could feel the real benefit of the radiator. She stands at the side of his bed and leans over, pressing her lips against his warm forehead and leaving a very faint gloss smear against his skin.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” she cups his face in her hands and they blush under her touch, “don’t do that again, Spencer.”

“Baby, I wouldn’t dream of it,” he tilts his head into her touch and closes his eyes, content with how she very clearly feigned her anger towards him and all kinds of warm and fuzzy because she’s all he needed for his recovery. Her lips press against his in the most gentlest of kisses before she pulls back and sits herself down, his eyes opening and never leaving her face, “I love you. You think I’d jeopardise that?”

“You already did,” she clarifies and brings the chair closer, resting her elbows on the thin mattress he was laid upon and grabbing his hand with one of her own, “I can’t cope with how it made me feel. It was the worst experience of my life and I’ve killed people.”

“Criminals,” he corrects her and she lets out a gentle laugh, “you’ve killed all the criminals like a badass.”

She rolls her eyes.

Spencer was back, thankfully, and YN couldn’t have felt more normal after such a night of chaos and panic and all things worrying.

Hours had passed since he had woken from surgery.

He’d slept for a couple of those hours and gave in to the aches behind his eyes but all he had wanted to do was stay awake and never take a moment with YN for granted ever again, even if it meant sleep was put on the back burner. Life was too short, especially when working such a career as they had, and there was an uncertainty to when they really would never see one another again and he’d already nearly left her behind. He couldn’t bare to think about that happening, or with the shoe being on the other foot, and watching her and looking at her made him feel so much more solace than knowing he was on the mend.

When her mobile dings with a text alert from Morgan, an image attached that he needed her to see, she feels her heart race. Whilst she had been sat there with Spencer, she had been wracking her brain and reading through files and notes on what the team had already thrown around and bounced off of one another, and they had kept her in the loop like she had kept them in the loop on just how Spencer was doing so shortly after his incident. The man in the picture was the man she had seen walk passed the ward, many times in the last few hours, and it left a sour taste behind.

He’s here.

At the nurse’s station. I’ve seen him walk outside Spence’s room a few times.

YN feels sick to her stomach. Things had been serene because she was away from the chaos of working the case that the team were working on and left with her boyfriend as she kept him company so he wasn’t alone - of course, he’d told her he was fine and that he was as safe as he could be and that the team needed her expertise and her skills more than she needed to be with him but she refused to leave him.

She wanted to be with him.

He never wanted to take a moment with her for granted and she never wanted to take a moment with him for granted, ever again. And there was no way she was going to let anyone ruin the track they had rebuilt to normality...

Shut the door and don’t leave Reid. Get him in a wheelchair if you can.

Spencer was clueless to the text exchange happening, just like he was clueless as to who the unsub was and how he was stood outside the ward; he wasn’t even phased by how intensely she had been staring at her phone nor had he seen how her eyes were constantly darting from the window of the ward to him to the phone in her hand as she awaited the texts.

If not, shoot if you have your gun on you. Reid’s will be in his patient bag if you don’t. Back up is on the way, I’ll be there soon.

YN gulps thickly and the gun in the holster upon her hip felt much more heavier than usual. It was there, she wouldn’t be found without it (not now and not ever) tucked into her pocket or hanging off her belt, and she planned on using it if she needed it.

A knock on the door brings her back down to earth, it wakes Spencer up and it brings a sense of busyness to what had been filled with silence and nothing but their gentle breathing and no movement. A doctor stepping foot into the room, a clipboard in his hand and a solemn look on his face, interrupting their little bubble. Her phone went forgotten on his bedside table, locked to keep any of the wandering eyes from peeking at what her team was sending her, so she could keep her focus on whatever the doctor had to say.

“He, uh, he had his meds an hour ago,” YN reminds him and Spencer tucks up a little deeper under the thin, blue coloured comforter that came with the stay, “I was here so I saw.”

She was given a blunt answer in response, “yeah, post-op antibiotics.”

“Yeah, he had those, too.”

Curiosity gets the better of him and Spencer cranes his neck forward, trying to grab a look at what he was about to be given in regards to medication.

“What ones?” He catches sight of the label in the doctor’s hands and frowns to himself when he reads what he shouldn’t be reading, “carbenicillen? No, that’s not right. I have a severe reaction to beta lactams. I can’t have that.”

The clipboard that had been placed on the bed had been picked up by the doctor, her fingers flicking through his charts and his information, looking at him and shaking his head, “it’s not in your chart.”

YN feels her fight or flight response taking over when the doctor turns his body in the direction of the monitors that her boyfriend was wired up to, the antibiotic held in his hand as he preps and readies to medicate. Whatever Spencer was allergic to would have been written on his hospital chart so there was no way he was about to injected with whatever could kill him; he already faced death today and she wasn’t going to let that happen again.

“What are you doing?”

Spencer panics, YN panics, and he’s tugging at the wires he’s intubated with as the doctor readies himself to give him the medication he was asked to give him. A close call because Spencer fought back, slapping his hands away from the monitor so he couldn’t go through with the task of poisoning him with what he shouldn’t be allowed, the tiny bottle dropping to the floor and requiring him to pick it up... which only backfired against his mission.

“Gun,” Spencer calls and turns to his girlfriend but YN had seen it coming from a mile off, her gun ready and cocked before the doctor could turn around, “he has a gun, YN.”

By the time he turned, YN didn’t give him time to react because she had perfect aim and a clear shot that she wasn’t going to let go of. Spencer covered his ears as he prepared for the sound and closed his eyes because he couldn’t sit and watch his girlfriend have her turn in confronting death.

But when he feels her collapse against the bed, a hiccup of a sob escaping her parted lips, his pained movements get thrown to the side because she looked and she sounded and she was exhausted. Stressed, emotional and tired and who could blame her? She’d been through a lot. She grips onto his waist and she buries her face into the hospital gown covering his chest and she just cries. With everything that had happened, she hadn’t cried yet. Even though she felt like she wanted to, she didn’t bring herself to show emotion because there was a need to be strong in front of her colleagues... even though they expected her to break-down, they were impressed by how strong she kept her guard up.

“You’re okay,” he coos into the top of her head. He hears Morgan’s footsteps in the hallway, standing by the ward as an extra set of hands in case there was any other corrupt officers standing by to complete their mission, and Spencer smiles warmly at him as he turns his back to give them the privacy they needed to have. His main focus being cuffing the ‘doctor, as he laid injured on the floor. “You saved my life, YN.”

That only makes a sob erupt from her chest and it shakes her body and forces her arms to tighten around him.

“You’re okay,” he repeats softly, kissing her head, “you did so good today. I’m so proud of you.” xx

#spencer reid chats #spencer reid angst #spencer reid imagines #matthew gray gubler imagines

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sincerelybluevase · 3 years

Text

Careful, Madam Chapter Six

A/N Thank you all for being so patient! I didn’t think I’d ever finish this, but the final chapter has been written. You’ll have to wait a little bit for that, since the wonderful @thegirlisuedtobe is making a beautiful teaser for it, which I obviously want to post first. But rest assured; this fic is finished after chapter seven! The previous chapters can be read here.

All night I lay thinking as to what to do. Systematically, I went through every option I could think of until I arrived at the inevitable conclusion.

The best I could hope for was for Maxim to be convicted of murder. I didn’t see that happen any time soon, though; everyone thought he and Rebecca had had the perfect marriage, so why should he have wanted to kill her? His identification of the wrong woman could easily be explained away as an honest mistake made when he was sick with grief and horror. That could not explain why Rebecca lay dead in her cabin, but then the authorities could hardly expect Maxim to know everything, now could they?

I could accuse Maxim of killing Rebecca and testify against him instead, but I rejected that idea just as I had done earlier that day when it first occurred to me. I did not think I would be believed, and even if I was, I didn’t think people would forgive me for betraying my husband. After all, he had lifted me up out of poverty and obscurity when he made me his wife. Many already believed I was after his money; if I repaid what they thought of as his kindness by seeing to it that he got hanged, they would think me a conniving little schemer who had murdered her husband to inherit his money. It would be all over the newspapers, and so everyone would know. Reporters would harass me, everyone else would snub me. I thought I might be able to bear that, but what life would that be for my child? For there was my little stranger to think of now.

Perhaps it would be best for the baby if I did nothing. There’s a lot to say for being born in wealth and privilege, and few children would be more privileged than the ones born with the de Winter name. Manderley was a glorious place to grow up besides. In my mind’s eye I could see my child and I on the beach dragging driftwood from the surf, laughing as Jasper chased after seagulls. Afterwards we’d have tea under the chestnut tree, and I’d cut the crusts off a sandwich, because that was how they’d like their bread. Maxim would scold our child if he saw, because he had, no time for such puerile nonsense, but it would be all right, I would shield them from his moods, his madness. Yes, I could continue to be the second Mrs de Winter, shy and silent, a quiet little thing at my husband’s side. Rebecca had played at being a devoted wife really rather successfully, hadn’t she? And she had never even loved him. I had. Surely I could pretend I still did? For my child, I could go back to being the girl I had been just a few days ago… But no, I thought as I turned on my side, watching the form of my sleeping husband in his bed, I can never be that woman again. Not after finding out Maxim had murdered Rebecca. He had killed once; what was there to prevent him from killing me, too, if I shamed him?

And I had shamed him already, hadn’t I? He simply didn’t know it yet. What I had done with Mrs Danvers would ruin him and Manderley, should it ever come out. He’d kill me for that ten times over, and Mrs Danvers, too.

Mrs Danvers. Queer, loyal Mrs Danvers. What was she doing now? What I wouldn’t give to be with her, to try and alleviate her suffering! For she must suffer greatly now that she knew her beloved Rebecca’s death was murder, and she must seethe with rage and hatred for Maxim. That was perhaps my biggest fear: that she hungered for revenge and would harm herself to get it.

To keep her, my little stranger, and myself safe, there was only one thing to do: run away with Mrs Danvers. But how to accomplish it? I had no money, and there was no ready cash at Manderley; we had accounts at every store and company so that there was no need to pay with bills and coin. Maxim had given me no jewellery during our marriage, so that couldn’t be sold either. Still, I supposed I could find a way. The most important thing was to find Mrs Danvers before she could do anything harmful, and convince her to come away with me.

If she didn’t want to run away with me, I feared my heart would break.

Despite my sickening worries, I must have slept then, for the next time I opened my eyes, daylight had found its way into the room. It pooled onto the floorboards, heavy and hot. The bed beside me was empty. I fumbled for my watch, saw that the inquest was about to start. Maxim had left me behind, as he said he would. Two days ago, this would have broken my heart, but that morning, I found it a mercy.

I went to the bathroom, where I vomited. Perhaps it was the baby making me sick; perhaps just the great stress of the situation I had found myself in. I brushed my teeth, dressed quickly, then went in search of Mrs Danvers. I kept wiping my hands on my dress. What if she had gone to the inquest? I should have stayed awake. But no, I found her where I expected her to be: in Rebecca’s room.

“Oh, Mrs Danvers,” I said. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, clutching Rebecca’s crumpled nightgown. Her eyes had turned to slits, so swollen were they from crying. She smelled of sorrow, that strange salty scent that clings to the hands and face. My heavy heart had lifted at the sight of her; now, it began to ache. “Oh, Mrs Danvers,” I repeated, “how your eyes must hurt!” Like two embers burning in her sockets, I imagined. And so, before doing anything else, I went into the bathroom and turned on the tap. I wetted my handkerchief under the cold water, then took it to her and dabbed at her eyes. She made to fend me off, stiffened, then succumbed.

“I’m sorry, Mrs Danvers. I didn’t mean to leave you after what I said. I suppose you’ve a lot of questions. I wanted to come see you sooner so we might talk about it, truly I did, but I could not find you, and then Mr de Winter wouldn’t let me out of his sight.” A drop of water course down the inside of my wrist, making me shiver.

She stilled my hand. “I always suspected he killed her,” she croaked. “She wouldn’t drown, not even in that squall, not my mistress, not she. For a year, I’ve suspected. I just couldn’t prove it. Tell me, Madam: how did he kill her?”

My throat was tight and dry. I swallowed painfully. “He shot her.”

She bared her teeth, her lips curling back like that of a corpse. “I thought he would. He’s always been a coward. He wouldn’t dare kill her with his bare hands. She would have fend him off, had he tried. Did she suffer?”

“No. She died instantly.”

“Will her bones show that he murdered her?”

I shook my head. “He said the bullet went straight through.”

“So he shall be acquitted then, won’t he? Colonel Julyan, the doctor performing the autopsy, they’re all his friends. They’ll want to believe in his innocence, and even if they didn’t, they’ll want to avoid a scandal. There’ll be no justice for my mistress. Not unless we testify.”

“They wouldn’t believe us. They think me a slutty interloper and you queer and hateful.”

Her shoulders tensed, but only for a moment; then, she slumped. She took the handkerchief from me and pressed it to her eyes so forcefully drops fell down like tears. “Thank you, Madam, for telling me.”

I sat down next to her, dimpling the mattress. The stale scent of azaleas mixed with dust rose up to meet me. “I have thought our situation over. I’ve turned every option round and round in my mind, and there’s only one thing for us to do, Mrs Danvers. We must run far, far away from here.”

She lowered the handkerchief and stared at me with those sore, burning eyes. “Run away?”

I nodded. “We can’t testify, and we can’t remain here. Would you be able to work for him as nothing had happened? I can’t go on being his wife, at any rate, not now that I know he’s a murderer. What’s there to stop him from murdering again? And there’s my little stranger to think about now, too…” I pressed a hand against my belly. How long until it would swell?

“No,” she said in a low voice, “No, I can’t work for him anymore. You are right. But he wouldn’t let you go, Madam, especially now that you’re carrying his heir. And how would we live?”

We, I thought, and through the sickness and despair, my heart fluttered, she said ‘we’. We shall do this together, she and I. I placed my hand on hers. “Working girls like us can always find something, and I’ve saved a little money when I was Mrs van Hopper’s companion. Surely you’ve saved, too?”

She nodded. “Yes. Yes, of course. I’ve always had little use for money. But I meant, do you want us to live together, Madam?”

“Yes, yes of course! I can’t imagine living without you anymore, Mrs Danvers. I think that, foolish as it may seem, I’ve come to love you deeply these past few days. It’s as if I’ve looked inside of you and seen you, really seen you, not the cold, efficient housekeeper, but the warm, feeling woman underneath.” Blood rushed to my cheeks, and I felt shy again, tortured by my anxieties. Perhaps I had been too eager, too forward. “Besides, it would be practical. To the outside world, I can be a widow and you my aunt. No one would question it.”

She sat still for a moment, then clasped my hands and brought them to her mouth, kissing them with dry lips. “No one has ever wanted to live with me like that. I’ve always been needed as a nanny, or a housekeeper. Never as a person. Thank you, Madam,” she murmured.

I rested my head against her shoulder. “When should we leave, do you reckon?” Every fibre of my being wished to never see Maxim again, but if we left too hastily, we might make mistakes that could lead Maxim to us. Better to suffer his presence for a little while longer if that meant I could be rid of him forever.

“Not quiet yet, Madam. In a month, perhaps. It gives you time to lull Mr de Winter into a false sense of security, and by then you won’t be so sick with child anymore. Besides, it will give me the time I need to prepare our journey.”

“Will it be hard for you, to leave Manderley? It has been your home for years.”

She stroked a line on the back of my hand. “It was my home because of my mistress. I’ve a new mistress now. Where she leads, I shall follow, and let her be my home.”

Tears pricked in my eyes. “And you shall be mine. My God, I can hardly wait. It shall be heaven, to be with you, to never have to see Mr de Winter again.”

“Well, well, well,” a voice said.

I got up and whipped around. My bowels turned to water and my knees were so weak I almost had to sit down again.

Maxim stood on the threshold, his face that strange waxen mask I had observed in him often when he was tired or angry. “Maxim,” I said stupidly. “I thought… the inquest…”

“That didn’t take more than an hour. A verdict of accidental death. I rushed straight home to tell you the good news, only I couldn’t find you. You can imagine my surprise when Frith told me he had seen you gone into Rebecca’s rooms. I almost didn’t follow you here, but then I thought, what power does that perverted slut hold over me now that I’ve killed her and gotten away with it? Only I didn’t expect to find that my devoted little wife has turned out to be a perverted little slut as well, scheming with a housekeeper twice her age to elope.”

“I didn’t… we weren’t…”

“You little bitch,” he hissed. He dashed through the room and struck me so quickly I barely saw his fist move. His knuckles connected with my cheekbone. The pain took a few seconds to arrive, hot and sharp.

Oh, I thought stupidly. I made to press a hand to my cheek, but he grabbed my wrists and pulled me to him. “You little bitch!” he roared, spittle flying from his mouth. “How dare you leave me?!”

He shook me so hard my teeth rattled. This, I thought with icy certainty, this is how I shall die: at the hands of my husband. Funny; he hadn’t dared kill Rebecca with his own hands, but then I had never quite measured up to his first wife, now had I?

“Stop!” I pleaded. “Maxim, please stop! You’re scaring me!”

He slapped my face with an open palm, bringing tears to my eyes. He raised his hand to strike again when Mrs Danvers said, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, sir.”

A metallic click sounded.

Maxim turned to look at her, his hand frozen in mid-air.

Mrs Danvers was pointing a gun at him.

Tagging: @solattea, @mlletina, @msmaryadmitrievna, @alice1nwond3rland, @need-not, @halewynslady

#my fanfic #danvich #rebecca #rebecca das musical #rebecca fanfic

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twinkleimagines · 3 years

Text

✨Don’t fucking touch her✨

(Yes , those are Toms hands 🤧)

Summary: Tom is your best friend and finds out that the guy you’re dating is extremely toxic and abusive.

WARNING: this contains physical and verbal abuse, please be cautious reading this if it’s a trigger!

“ okay I’ll see you soon.. love you too , Bye” you had just gotten off the phone with your best friend of 6 years, Tom Holland. You hadn’t seen him in over two months because your boyfriend believed there was more to the friendship than meets the eye. You and Tom had a history yes but it didn’t last long because you both agreed you were better off as friends. Unfortunately though your boyfriend of 6 months Anthony thought you were nothing but a big flirt and a cheater. He accused you of cheating with any guy you were nice to. It was Toms birthday today though and you weren’t going to miss seeing him no matter what.

Anthony was scheduled to work in an hour so you had called Tom to come get you so you could hang out for his birthday, of course you had to hide this because when Anthony gets mad he gets.. abusive.

You still could remember the first time he had hit you. Your ear was swollen for 3 days straight, all because he found you sitting with his coworker while he was at work ‘ flirting’ according to him. You weren’t flirting though, you were just being friendly. He had stayed quiet the whole ride to your house but the moment you had gotten inside he shoved you so hard you fell to the ground. You had gotten up to defend yourself when he hit you on the side of the head with a closed fist, causing your ear to ring and everything to blur.

After that, it seemed to be a weekly thing. Anthony would find any reason to put his hands on you. In public he would pull your hair, and pinch you so he’s you would want to cry . But out of fear you never spoke up to anyone . Anthony was pretty popular, especially with lawyers and even a few judges, so you assumed that if you ever were to speak out against him he would turn the tables on you and get away with it.

The worst out of it all though was how much he would isolate you from anyone who cared about you. You didn’t see your family much as it is but Tom, he completely cut him off. The only thing item you could talk to Tom was when Anthony was gone, and it was hard to do that too because you couldn’t tell Tom why you were only available to talk 9 hours out of the day , 5 days a week.

But regardless you weren’t going to let Anthony keep you down. You were going to enjoy today with your best frie-

“ who the fuck was that?” You heard from behind you. Oh my fucking God .

“I-it was my mom “ you said quickly , giving him a fake smile.

“ why is your mom coming here?” He questioned crossing his arm. He didn’t sound convinced in the slightest, but even if it was your mom he’d still be assuming the same thing. He honestly petrified you. He was tall and stocky, he could literally lift you with one hand and he was not gentle when he would hit you.

“ she’s just dropping something off babe” you stated, but then your phone started to vibrate..

Tom was calling.

“ give me that” Anthony said snatching your phone from his hand. You quickly tried to grab it back as he looked at the screen , seeing Toms contact name popped up on your screen.

“ you better tell me now whose coming or so fucking help me” he stated now towering over you.

“ I-it’s Toms birthday I just wanted to celebrate with him” you stated. Your body was already trembling at this point , you had no idea what was coming next from him but you knew it was nothing good. Anthony sighed heavily with frustration before typing into your phone .

‘ don’t bother coming over , it’s best we lose contact too’ he sent .

“ that’ll teach him to mess with my girl.” The way he said that made you shiver. It wasn’t a cute little statement , no this one was possessive. He really saw you as his. A toy that no one else was allowed to touch. Little did he know though that Tom was calling to say he was going to be there early, only 5 minutes away in fact.

“ babe I’m sorry it wasn’t anything like th-“ you let out a Yelp as Anthony through your phone towards you, passing your head and shattering against the wall.

This was it . This was the worst you had seen him. His face was cherry red and his chest was heaving from breathing so hard.

“ I knew you were cheating on me . That’s all you ever do you ungrateful bitch”. Anthony went to take a swing at you but you ducked just in time to go under him, heading for the front door. You had managed to unlock i and open it slightly before Anthony got ahold of your hair , slinging you back. “ where the hell do you think you’re going ?!” He yelled yanking you down to the ground by your hair .

“ Anthony stop!” You screamed trying to get your hair from his hands but his grip was just too tight.

“ I can’t even go make money without you making a fucking fool of me !” He yelled still pinning you down.

“ just let go! “ you yelled trying to get up. “ I’m not cheating !”

“ just shut up!” He yelled yanking you up by the arm before slinging you against the wall next to the door .

“ Anthony plea-“ you were immediately stopped by the feeling of Anthony’s large hand wrapping around your throat. You started cough loudly, tears running down your throat and you swung at his arm, trying to get him to let go of you.

“ you’re nothing but a slut” he said letting go of you, only to drag you towards the hallway by your hair.

“ please let go “ you cried out stumbling to stand up while he dragged you by your hair . He kept yelling and cussing , calling you every name under the book. He had even kicked the side of your face from under, never letting go of your hair . You were screaming and pleading for him to get off of you when all of a sudden you saw him drop to the floor, Tom on top of him hitting his face over and over again. You finally managed to get up on your feet, tugging on Tom to get him off of Anthony. Tom stood over Anthony for a second before crouching down grabbing him by the color of his shirt. Anthony had cuts all over his face bleeding , his nose definitely was broke as well.

“Don’t you ever fucking touch her again” Tom said before pushing against Anthony’s head making it hit the floor.

“ c’mon” you said to Tom tugging on his arm. Tom quickly followed you outside where you went to his car, getting in the passenger seat. You couldn’t even strap in before Tom had turned the ignition on , spinning wheels out of your driveway. The ride was silent for a few minutes, Toms knuckles bleeding, just jaw clenching while he squeezed on the wheel.

“ how long has that been going on?” He asked with a stern voice , not taking his eyes off the road. You lowered your head , ashamed.

“ since the first month we got together” you said looking down at your hands. Tom slammed his hand against the steering wheel making you jump.

“ Dammit Y/N!” He yelled. You looked out the window, tears starting to fall. He noticed you Flinch and cowering .

“ I’m sorry darling I just.. I just don’t understand how you could keep something like that away from me “ he said, sadness lingering in his tone . It wasn’t just him though, it was everyone . Sometimes you even tried to forget it and pretend like your relationship was normal .

“ I was scared Tom. I always thought he was going to kill me “ you said your bottom lip trembling . You immediately placed your head in your hands , letting out loud sobs. Tom quickly pulled the car over , wrapping his arms around you.

“ I am so sorry .. and I’m so sorry I didn’t catch on” he spoke softly .

“ what’s going to happen now ?” You mumbled , looking up at Tom. He shook his head .

“ I’m not sure y/n”

***

It had been a week since the incident , and you had been staying at Toms place . He slept on an air mattress in his bedroom floor while you had his bed , even though you had secretly hoped he laid with you, for comfort. No one had heard or seen Anthony either. He was obviously alive from his social media posts but he didn’t seem to have any interest in contacting anyone .

“ y/n you hungry?” Tom asked peaking his head into the bedroom. You looked over towards him grinning. “ I take that as a yes” he laughed before walking back out . Shortly after you heard the doorbell ring. You paused your movie, listening trying to see who it was.

“ you’ve got some fucking nerve showing up here!” You heard Tom yell. Oh shit you thought, that’s Anthony. You quickly jumped up, running towards the front door before anything happened. When you got there you saw Tom standing there with his fist clenched, and Anthony with fear written all over his face .

“ I just came to apologize to y/n” Anthony said trying to reason.

“No” Tom said shaking his head. “ you’re nothing but a coward who beats on women. Your fucking pathetic mate” he responded, fuming.

“ Tom” you said reaching up to grab Toms arm , trying to calm him down.

“ look , I won’t press charges on Tom if you don’t press charges on me ok” Anthony pleaded. “ all my stuff is out of the house, I’ve moved out you won’t have to hear from me again”. You sat contemplating. Anthony was known in the court system. He could get his way if he wanted to so he must not be all that confident if he’s bargaining . But at the same time you really didn’t want anymore of a reason to associate with him than you had to at this point, and as long as Tom was around you knew you were safe. You looked at Tom and could tell he wanted to tear this boy to shreds but it just wasn’t worth it to you anymore .

“ fine, now leave. I don’t ever want to see your face again Anthony “ you spoke, it was the most confidence you had ever had when speaking out to Anthony . It was obviously because you had raging Tom behind you but still, it felt good to be able to tell Anthony how it is without fearing for your life. Anthony nodded before turning around walking away. You stood there for a second, watching and waiting to make sure he didn’t try anything . He didn’t thankfully, only getting in his car driving away. A sigh of relief came out of your mouth as you shut Toms door only to turn around and see that Tom was no longer there. You scrunched your face up in confusion before walking back to the bedroom to find Tom sitting on the edge of the bed, his head lowered.

“ Why’d you leave?” You asked. You realized he was looking down at his knuckles . They were still red and scratched up, a little swollen from when he beat on Anthony.

“ Tom?” You said softer this time, sitting down next to him.

“ why would let him just get away like that?” He asked, still not looking up at you. “ after all he did to you and for so long he just gets to walk away with a slap on the wrist” he stated. You could tell he was angered with you, and even though you knew Tom would never lay a finger on you , you could feel that same nervous feeling you’d get when Anthony .

“ I-I just don’t ever want to see him again” you stated looking away. “ if we went about pressing charges, then I would still have to be around him and still have to see him.” You stood up fumbling with your fingers. Tom looked up at you , only to see your bottom lip quivering and tears forming. “ you don’t know what he’s like when he’s pissed , the things he did to me- pressing charges would only set him off and. What if you end up in jail and he walks away free? He’ll come find me and you won’t be here “ by this time the tears were streaming down your face as you Reminenced on this long torturous months with Anthony. Tom stood up quickly, wrapping his arms around you tightly.

“ shh stop crying” he whispered , rubbing your back. “ I’m sorry okay we won’t bother it” he stated not letting go of you. You both sat in silence as you calmed yourself down to only a few sniffles here and there.

“ I know he’s gone, but I don’t want to go back” you said referring to your home. Tom swueezed a little tighter.

“ you don’t have to love, you can stay here” he stated. As much as you loved that , you couldn’t just keep taking over Toms bed and him sleeping in the floor.

“ Tom, I’d have to go home eventually “ you said taking a step back away from him. He kept his hands holding onto your forearms while shaking his head no.

“ move in” he suggested. You looked up at him to see he was sincere.

“ Tom I can’t just live with my best friend my whole life” you said moving out of his grasp. Tom looked almost hurt by your words. there was a long pause between the conversation before Tom sighed.

“ we could be more than just best friends, y/n” this time it was your turn to look at him with confusion. “ we only broke up all those years ago because we both were fresh into our careers and didn’t have time for relationships“. he wasn’t wrong. If you both didn’t have such busy lives you would still be together . “ I love you Y/n .. and ever since I saw him hurting you I’ve had nightmares. All I want is to keep you safe and protect you”. You thought about it. He was really your whole world. You loved a lot of people but never the way you loved Tom. The way you felt with him, as if nothing in the entire world could touch you because he would standing in front of you blocking it. He excited you in every way possible, even ways you couldn’t admit to yourself, because if you did then that meant you had feelings for him, still.

Your silence worried him , causing him to regret what he had just said. You realized this so you leaned your head foward, your lips puckering up some. Toms eyebrows raised up before he leaned in as well meet you halfway. The kids was long but gentle, something you both had secretly longed for . It was a passionate kiss, his hands sliding against your sides until the were completely wrapped around you. Yours had found their way to his hair, tugging causing his lips to dread apart giving you access. Your tongues danced together, the taste of his blue berry pancakes lingering. Eventually you both had to breath so you pulled your lips away, but the rest of your body staying close to each other.

“ I’m scared” you replied laying your head against his chest. “ I’m so scared that I’m going to fuck up and lose you” you stated, tears forming against at the thought.

“ you could never lose me” he replied before leaning back down kissing you . Some how while you were kissing , you both had managed to lay down on the bed, Tom partially on top of you as he rubbed his hand up and down your thigh. Toms hand then migrated over to your lower belly, his fingers sliding under the hem of your pajama pants. Your mouth opened wide, a gasp coming out as you felt his rough fingers press against your clit. The waves of tingles flowing through you was almost impossible to handle. No one had ever made you feel this way, especially not Anthony. It was always forced and unwanted with him but with Tom, it was pure bliss. Tom stared down at your face as your moans got louder and louder , grinding your hips up against his hand.

By this point Toms fingers were wiggling in you, his thumb rubbing back and forth against your clit.

“ oh Tom” you moaned out, placing your head in the nook of his neck, your walls clenching around his fingers as you orgasmed. You could feel your leg twitching, your hand squeezing tight against his . Tom grinned before removing his fingers, placing them in his mouth to taste you. You giggled shyly covering your face .

“ don’t be shy” he said softly removing your hands to look at you.

“ you’re so beautiful y/n” he stated. You just looked up at him, his brown eyes staring back at you, the morning sunlight glistening in them.

“ I love you Tom” you whispered, rubbing your thumb against his bruised up knuckles.

“ I know, darling” he said kissing your forehead. “ c’mon” he stated sitting up. “ breakfast is probably cold”

#Tom Holland #I’m Holland fan fiction #Tom holland smut #Tom holland fan fiction smut #Tom holland imagine #Tom holland imagines #Tom holland imagine smut #Tom holland imagines smut

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death-is-a-new-beginning · 4 years

Note

if you still write for cisco, i’d like ro request a smut (if you do them, its okay if not)! he and the reader are together but its a secret. she’s been bratty and teasing him all day. cisco tries to keep his cool but he’s obviously breaking, so she snaps hia final straw by flirting with barry (before iris & him are together). something inside him snaps and he drags her to his lab and fucks her senseless and overstimulates her. thank you in advance!!

A/N: Ooh I would love to do this for you! This is my first time writing smut but I'm going to do my best. Sorry it took so long! I wanted to make sure I got this right. I hope you like it! Also requests are open, feel free to request some more fics!

Word Count: 2699

__________________________________________________________________

All damn day. All damn day y/n had been teasing Cisco. He was going absolutely mad because all he wanted to do was pull her onto his lap and kiss her senseless and do so many things just to hear her scream Papi, the way she did when she finally released her control. God just thinking about it made him want her that much more. But he couldn't do anything because they were keeping their relationship on the down low.

She was wearing normal clothes that normally would not call attention to her but for some reason it looked so good on her. It had been cold outside so she had worn a black hoodie with the S.T.A.R Labs logo on it and some dark jeans with red converse, totally normal clothes. But something about those jeans made her butt look a type of way that he just wanted to smack. At some point during the day in between missions the temperature had gotten warm and y/n took off her hoodie to reveal one of Cisco's new t-shirts he'd gotten recently with a mathematical equation written on it. It was like she was trying to get them outted. She looked at him smirking, knowing full well what wearing his clothes did to him. She then circled him like a temptress and reached over the control table for a her pen and came dangerously close to his face, he could feel her breath fanning him, her lips inches from him. It was like a mental battle they were fighting to see who would give in first. He was oh so close and willing to give in if it meant having her close to him.

After a few seconds of making intense eye contact, she smiled sweetly and said "Sorry Pap-Cisco I can't seem to reach my pen, do you mind passing it to me?"

He quickly passed it to her, swallowing thickly suddenly so thirsty, with a thirst that no amount of water could quench but time alone with her. He stood up abruptly and said, "No problem at all," and quickly exited the room, he need to get out of there. Barry would be back from the police department soon and he didn't want them to catch them doing something deliciously indecent. Not to mention Caitlin was working with them as well so it would just be problematic all the way around.

The rest of the day seemed to pass by agonizingly. With "accidental" brushes of skin in passing or flirty glances and there may have been something with a lollipop and a fake innocent laugh, he was at his wits end and about ready to burst, not caring about exposing their relationship. Later that day, they were working on some tech for Barry's suit when Cisco made a comment about her not programming something correctly and she just flipped him off.

"Like you never make a mistake? Geez, I'm already fixing it. Get off my back cowboy." The sexual frustration was translating over into just straight frustration with each other.

"Rarely do I make a mistake that would end in our friend getting killed," he fired back at her, immediately regretting it but he couldn't take it back.

"Fine, Mr. Perfect finish this yourself. I need a break anyways," she huffed and dropped the tools she was using and was already out of the room before he could call her back.

When Barry walked into the metahuman jail section, he noticed y/n sitting down on the floor reading a book about Quantum Physics, trying to come up with new ways to help Barry's suit phase with him more smoothly.

"It looks like you're doing some light reading," he joked, sitting next to her.

She laughed, "Yep, I needed a distraction before actually punching someone in the face. Maybe you know a guy on which I could use as a punching bag?"

Barry's eyebrow raised inquisitively, "Who do you want to punch in the face? Who hurt you?" He began laughing and bumped her shoulder with his.

"That is a can of worms I'm not sure we want to open muchacho," she joked with a bright smile, already feeling better, she hated arguing with Cisco, especially when it came to keeping Barry safe or when he felt like she wasn't doing a good enough job.

"How about you give me a list of names and I'll be back in like two minutes with the names crossed off with thorough lessons learned?"

"You think you could get it done in two minutes? Its quite a long list. I think it would take five minutes at least."

"Dang how long are we talking?" He asked.

"You know that episode of SpongeBob where the list just keeps going like out of his house or what not? Yeah about that long," she chuckled.

Barry cracked his knuckles and stood up, "Okay, no time like the present, give me the names and I'll beat their ass," she stood up while laughing then said, "Easy there Sonic, you need to fuel up and check in with Caitlin for your normal check up."

About thirty minutes later when she hadn't returned, Cisco went to go find her, he was worried he might have took it too far. He passed by the metahuman holding cells and heard her laughter mixing with Barry's. They were making their way to the entrance, he heard Barry ask her if there was anything he could do to help her and she said a hug would work. He watched them hug, her arms were around his neck which made her shirt rise up a little so Barry's hands were on her bare skin. After a few seconds they pulled away, with a sigh she sent him on his way to Caitlin and sighed before turning to go back to where Cisco was only to come face to face with a pissed off Cisco.

Y/n stopped in her tracks, a pissed off Cisco was probably one of the hottest thing to witness, but his anger was directed towards her, she could detect that much.

"What the hell Y/n? I know we want to keep our relationship on the DL but flirting with Barry? What the actual hell?" The realization that Cisco was jealous of Barry, for no reason, made her laugh.

"What is so funny?" Cisco asked almost yelling. He couldn't take it anymore, he felt so possessive and seeing them hug was the straw that broke this camels back. He would show her who she belonged to, as much as he belonged to her. He grabbed her arm and pulled her into a secret room he had found the first year he started working at the lab. He sometimes slept there when he was working late. It had a mattress he'd secretly brought a few years ago.

He locked the door and like a predator hunting his prey, he pounced. He pushed her up against the wall, he had placed his hand behind her head to protect it, just like guys do in anime. His eyes darkened when he saw how turned on she was. He almost growled, "You're mine. Only mine, and I'm yours," he pressed his lips to hers passionately and it was on. A fight for dominance began but one he was winning. He smiled in the kiss and pulled away. Her eyes slowly opened, she was panting hard. His hands had moved down from her head to her side sliding his hand under his shirt she was wearing until he reached her breasts and he squeezed her the way she liked.

She moaned softly with this action her eyes growing dark and his hand were on the move again, unbottoning her jeans and reaching for the one place she ached for. When he reached that place his hands slowly circled her mound so slow that it was almost agonizing.

"All day you've been taunting me, being cute, wearing my shirt, being a brat. You even flirted with Barry! Well baby girl, you messed with the bull, prepare to get the horns." His voice deepened and the Cisco that only she gets to see came forward. He removed his hand, the source of her pleasure, which made her whine in desperation.

"Take off everything. Now." He demanded.

"Yes S-sir." She stuttered, at times she was unprepared for the shift in dominance with Cisco. Most of the time he was laid back and nerdy as all get out, but here and right now Papi Cisco was present and demanded respect. This made her want him all that much more. She removed her articles of clothing one by one. His eyes raked over her as he licked his lips.

“Now get on all fours on the mattress. You know what to do, you’ve been a bad girl and it’s time to get punished,” She complied, her bum was up slightly. She stared ahead at the metal wall. He took off his shirt, and approached her his hands squeezing her ass, massaging it.

“You’ve been bad baby girl, being so beautiful and flirty with me all day when we are trying to keep our relationship under wraps. You’ve been pushing my buttons. You’re going to count to three okay?” He asked kindly.

“Okay,” She said.

“Okay what?” He asked.

“Okay sir,” She replied with a smile on her face.

“Good girl, let’s begin,” He spanked her, it was a solid spank that didn’t hurt but made heat pool down her body. “One,” she moaned. The second and third followed suit with more pressure in each spank. After he was done, he massaged her butt, there was a bit of redness but he would make sure she wasn’t in any discomfort. He peppered kisses on her ass which made her moan, the soft touches were driving her crazy. He took those kisses lower until he reached her lips, licking down her strip, moaning at how wet she was for him.

“Please, Cisco,” she mewled, all she wanted was for him to finish what he started over and over again.

“No Mamas, you teased me, now its my turn. On your back baby girl. You’re not allowed to touch yourself,” she turned over, laying on some firm pillows that gave her the support she’d definitely need soon. When she looked at him, he was putting his hair up with a hair tie and there was a few strands that would always fall loose no matter how hard she tried. He looked beautiful, she enjoyed seeing all the different sides of him, they often face so much danger which is why they decided they wouldn't tell anyone until they were sure it would last.

He kneeled onto the mattress and made his way to her, like a predator hunting for his prey and he looked hungry. Like he’d eat her whole. She almost moaned at the thought. When he reached her, he was hovering above her, mere inches from her lips.

“May I kiss you?” He asked, even when he was in dominant mode, he always asked her for consent, always made sure she was okay. The respect alone made her love him so much more. She wanted him to do more that kiss her, she wanted him to fuck her so good and then make love to her, the order in which that happened did not matter.

“Yes, you can kiss me. I hope you plan on fucking me too though,” with that he smiled and smashed his lips to hers, sucking on her bottom lip a little before slipping his tongue in to her mouth. His hands wandered to her breasts, squeezing her nipples roughly which made her moan into his mouth and arch her back. His hand continued his journey down her body and between her legs, she was so sensitive and swollen there. He rubbed in circles then in 8 rotation movements. And with two fingers he entered her, he started pumping the digits in and out of her. She began moaning, her hips trying to meet his fingers with each thrust.

After a few moments of fingering her, on the brink of her orgasm, he stopped. He slid his fingers out and she clenched around the absence of his fingers. He brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them, tasting her while making direct eye contact. He smirked, he planned on edging her for while before letting her finish.

“Please Cisco, I was so close,” she pleaded. Aching to finish the job herself.

“No baby girl you’re not allowed to cum until I say so, understand?”

“Yes, sir, “ she conceded. He placed one more kiss on her lips before moving down her body, leaving a trail of kisses as he made his way between her legs. Then he started sucking and licking and tonguing her entrance, He could feel her start to clench around him and so he stopped. Again. He robbed her from completion again, he kissed her thighs as he sat up on his knees. He unbuckled his belt and undid his pants. He stood up pulling the last remaining clothing off. He was standing there in all his glory. He pulled a condom from his wallet and gave himself a few pumps until he was hard enough to put the condom off.

When he was ready he climbed back to her rubbing himself at her entrance, to which she moaned. He kissed her and pushed his way inside of her, they both moaned, he stretched her so well, he waited a bit to let her adjust and then began to move slowly, in and out of her. Her legs were wrapped around his waist trying to meet each thrust. He kissed her harder as he started to speed up, hitting the spot that made her go wild.

He then slowed and came to a stop as she came close once again and came to a halt. She huffed in frustration, but then Cisco moved to his knees whilst still inside her, she was clenching and unclenching around him which almost made his control waver. He lifter her legs to be on either side of his neck and he put a pillow under her bum so she was comfortable. He held her legs together and started to thrust into her deeper and harder than before, she was screaming in pleasure, which made Cisco glad he had sound proofed the room.

¨Papi, please let me cum. I´ll be a good girl. Daddy please,¨ she recited like a prayer, she wasn´t sure she could prolong her orgasm if she tried. He was fucking her so good.

¨Cum now baby girl,¨ he demanded and she experienced the strongest orgasm she´d ever had. The man was Gandalf at making her cum. How he learned all of these techniques was beyond her. As she rode the high down, he continued to thrust until he came not too long after she had finished. He pulled out, he cum slipping out of her lips. He slowly lowered her legs down and went down on her, lapping up her juices, cleaning her, and sucking her sensitive clit, she didn´t think it was possible, but she ended up coming again for the second time.

He cuddled her and she came down another high, panting. “I’m glad I was being a bad girl today.” She said with a laugh.

-A few days later-

Y/n was hanging with the gang in the main control area, laughing and joking around with Barry and Caitlin. Cisco walks into the room, strolls over to her, mumbling something like “Fuck it” and spins her to him and kisses her in front of everyone, she kisses him back on instinct. After a moment, he pulls away and looks around the room and says, “She’s mine.” then he struts out back to his lab.

“I knew it! Barry you owe me $100.” Caitlin said excitedly while clapping.

Y/N just sits there in shock of what happened. “Wait you guys had a bet going?” She exclaimed.

-Fin-

#cisco ramon x reader #Cisco Ramon trash #cisco ramon #The Flash #flash x reader #cisco ramon smut

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flowers-of-io · 3 years

Text

Shockwave

Read it on AO3 here.

It is thirty-six hours later when the shockwave hits.

The Stranger—Elisabeth—let them stay in her camp out in the frigid nowhere, just a tiny round cabin with a bed and a table. She has driven off into the blizzard for supplies, and Eris quietly notes the subtle sign of trust that was leaving her and the Drifter alone in her personal space. It is cosily warm inside, well-insulated Braytech door keeping the cold out. She can see the snowstorm raging on the other side of the glass, white and blue and violent like the power crackling in her fingertips.

They sit on the opposite sides of the table, an old radio between them fighting through the snow to catch any signal that might slip through. Between the cracks of static and scraps of broadcast, there is silence.

This is the first time Eris has really sat down, stretching her back and legs aching from the hike. Between her mad escape from Io and what happened in the City, and persuading Zavala and the flight to the Jovians, she did not have time for as much as think. Head spinning as she danced from one purpose to the next, time slipping past her, reality squirming and bending. She has not slept in a long time.

The radio hums and Zavala’s voice pierces through, cracking and out of context. “…confirmed that Io, Mars, Titan, and Mercury have disappeared. We don't know why. We have lost contact with Deputy Commander Sloane and Gensym Scribe Asher Mir. We are deploying…”

She cannot hear him anymore.

Realisation hits her like a train at full speed. The assailed planets are gone. Her beloved, sacred Cradle, the Tree of Silver Wings – they are gone.

Sloane is dead. Asher is…

She has known. Since he squeezed her hand goodbye, and his red shadow began to darken her door every night, she has known what choice he would make and struggled to respect it. But it was too calm of a sorrow, she realises now, like leaves falling upon a grave, and she did not wail or claw her fingernails against the sandstone. There was still a thread of stupid hope, one that she hung upon by the little finger and refused to admit it, refused to acknowledge she believed there was still a chance, an unfinality of loss possible to revert. That threat is strangling her now, sharp and merciless, and Eris struggles to suck in a breath.

Drifter moves, his heavy coat rustling as he slouches forward towards the radio. He stares at it intently, silent, until Zavala’s voice is drowned in static again.

“Guess our pals kicked the bucket,” he says with such tremor in his voice Eris is not even angry.

She turns the realisation around like a bitter pill in her mouth, sticking fingers into the wound to get used to the pain. It is best constant, she has learned long ago, rather than the sudden spikes when she would touch the hurting place inadvertently. She digs deep to find some visceral core of horror; she imagines Asher dead in a hundred atrocious ways, his body broken and dismembered, crushed into red pulp, blew apart from the inside in an eruption of sizzling radiolaria. The deeper she reaches now, the safer it will be to sleep – the images familiar and predictable, horrent with spikes she already knows the placement of.

Skittish thoughts propel her to run off into the storm, let the blizzard lash her skin with an icy whip and scream until her larynx bleeds, until she cannot hear the din in her mind anymore. But she will not lose her composure. The days of punching walls and hollering into the night are long past her, shed along with the skin of chitin and blood she had been wearing for too long. She has only just started to bloom again—she will not allow it to trample the gentle scaffolding she has so arduously put up to hold her. She will not break.

Somewhat absently, she can see Drifter staring at her from across the table but her brain is screaming too loud to process it. He must have noticed some change on her face, or maybe how her hands started to shake and fiddle with the beads hanging by her belt, because he keeps his eyes on her—cautious, searching. As if looking for a handhold to grab and drag her out of the pit of horror she is thrusting herself into over and over.

“You saw it coming?” His voice seems to echo from far away.

“I should have,” Eris murmurs, nausea swelling up in her throat. “I should have persuaded them… I should have been there.”

In a desperate attempt to chase off the fuzz of thoughts hurtling through her mind at lightspeed, she stands up and regrets it immediately; the horizontal axis of her vision rotates by thirty degrees and she leans on the table with her full weight for support. Drifter stirs, then reaches out but she waves him off.

She can manage. She has been worse. It’s just another arrow to the same knee—does it make any difference?

She thinks about how her bloodied fingers traced the letters she had never sent to the people she would never see again. Piles of ink-stained paper, trembling sentences seeking comfort and asking forgiveness of the shadows she projected in her mind instead of the real flesh and bone. Real was too frightening, real could judge and shun her, real required a vulnerability she was terrified to reveal. She dreamed of a day when she would be steadier, braver—her hands no longer flinching away from touch, her words bold and sure of themselves—when she would send the letters out, confident of the fearful affection they disclosed. The correspondence she had truly written to herself.

Scrap-sentences circle in her head, squirming into her ears and eyes and mouth slithering between her teeth bitter like poison. Everything she will never tell him, one more thing the paranoia took from her, all the honest words and quivering confessions she feared to account for and how he will never know how she loved loved loved—

Staggering, she slumps onto the cot. Guilt is burning acidic in her chest and she cannot keep from shuddering any longer, burying her face in hands and smearing the ichor all over her cheeks. These eyes cannot cry and oh how she wishes they could, remembering the warm release of tears streaming down and tasting salt on her lips. There is only the black ooze now, seeping into her mouth and ears as she sleeps, drying on her eyelids and sticking them shut with a black wax seal. She is shaking so wildly her back hurts and tries to stifle the wail that creeps upon her lips, threatening to escape instinctively like a held-back breath.

The letters she never sent; alas, the promise had been made. She should have been there.

She had sworn.

The mattress dips down beside her, a movement she hardly registers. Only when an arm wraps itself around her loosely, a tentative loop for her to lean into or move away from, do the floodgates truly break. She curls up against Drifter’s chest and starts sobbing, dry and ugly sobs like frantic gasps for air above water.

He caresses her back, slow and soothing movements of a warm hand against the fabric of her cloak. Eris can hear her own wailing resonating through his ribcage.

“I should’ve been there,” she mumbles, her jaw trembling so hard it is difficult to push the words out.

“I know you were close,” Drifter hums, “but what use would be for you to die there? It’s not like you could’ve done anything.”

“He would comfort me in my darkness… and dying… I could not.”

He shifts and Eris feels his other hand gently press against her head. It is soft and warm and comforting, enclosing her in this tight dark space like in a blanket fort. It helps her slowly calm down until she is not heaving anymore, shivering only from time to time with leftover sobs.

“There was a kid in Eaton. A place I used to live,” Drifter says when her breathing is almost steady, “Taught her to fly a kite. Once it got stuck in a tree, almost at the top, and she climbed all the way up to get it. I asked her if she wasn’t afraid of falling.” There’s gentleness in his voice, one she has never heard there before. “And she said she wasn’t, ‘cause she knew I’d catch her if she did. Knew I’d save her.”

His thumb rubs gentle circles against her temple, lulling her, and Eris struggles to stay focused. She is too exhausted to think, and a terrible headache has begun to settle in, hammering against her sinuses, and Drifter’s tone is deep and calming, as if he was telling a bedtime story.

“When Eaton burned… when she took a bullet and stumbled and fell… I caught her. But I couldn’t save her.”

“At least you were able to offer comfort… One last time.”

“And did it change anything? She’s dead anyway.” Drifter shakes his head, a rustle of cloth sounding so odd with her ear partially covered. “You did what you could, sister. Don’t beat yourself up for it.”

The guilt will not subside until many, many moons later, and it is still gnawing at Eris’ bones in this moment, but the sharp, blinding fear has somewhat subsided into a dull ache. Maybe it is the catharsis of crying, or the initial shock having tumbled past, but an odd haziness overcomes her and her strained muscles begin to ease. The terrible weight of the loss is still dark and grim – she dreads to acknowledge it, fears the moment she will have to look under the cover and face it in all its irrevocable finality, yet for now it sits tucked away somewhere in the corner of her vision, present but bearably distant. For now she is warm and safe and breathing.

They do not speak more, just sit in hazy silence as the storm rages outside.

#bring tissues this is sad #am i over asher's death four months later? nope #character death tw #destiny 2 #my fics #eris morn #the drifter #asher mir #bad coworkers #cousins #gensym scribe #eris morning #sad man from the basement #destiny 2 fics

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realityhelixcreates · 3 years

Text

Dance of the Spheres Chapter 3: Mercurian Merengue

Chapters: 3/?

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: PG 13

Warnings: drugging, kidnapping, forced marriage

Characters: Loki(Marvel),

Additional Tags: Loki Goes Overboard, But When Doesn’t Loki go Overboard, Mature Reader, Disabled Reader, Political Intrigue

Summary:

Starlight

I will be chasing a starlight

For the rest of my life

I don’t know if it’s worth it anymore

Our hopes and expectations

Black holes and revalations

Muse-Starlight

You awoke in tremendous pain. That wasn't actually too unusual; you'd run out of your pain medication recently, and hadn't had the money to refill your prescription. It was far worse today though, and you groaned. It felt as if you had been dragged backwards down a flight of stairs.

You were having a hard time moving, like you were trying to swim through thick mud. Limbs heavy, and bones feeling like plastic, you rolled onto your side.

You were still wearing your leg. Weird. You almost never fell asleep with that thing on anymore. You must have had one hell of a night. Where had you been?

That's right! Your spineless boss had fired you. Fuck. Had you gotten wasted or something?

No.

No, those G-men had nabbed you! They drugged you with something. No wonder you were so sore and groggy: You were wasted, and those assholes had probably handled you like a sack of potatoes. You were likely covered in bruises now.

You slowly pried your eyes open to be met with an unfamiliar, dimly lit room, mostly unfurnished and uniform. There were no windows, but two doors; one open and leading to what appeared to be a restroom, and one closed.

There was an end table next to you that looked to be made of stone, with shelves carved into it. A cup of water and a plate with apple slices rested atop it. You were suddenly overtaken with hunger and thirst, having no idea how long you'd been asleep. You snatched up a slice of apple and stuffed it in your mouth, swinging your legs over the side of the bed.

The bed was also made of stone, though covered with a soft mattress and warm blankets. You didn't see your cane anywhere. The bastards probably left it in the alley. You leaned against the wall instead. It was also stone, as was the floor. Everything in the room, in fact, aside from the apple, water, mattress, pillow, and blankets, was made of stone blocks, flawlessly smooth and perfect. It was a creamy gray-white mostly, with a line of pale orange blocks at about hip level.

The light came from hidden fixtures, affixed into the walls near the ceiling, covered with what appeared to be carved panels of cloudy crystal. It was lovely, and very foreign.

Where were you? You shoved more apple in your mouth, and took a swig of the water.

How odd. The apple was truly delicious, better than any you'd ever had. The water tasted of absolutely nothing. The room also smelled of nothing, nor did the hospital gown you realized you were wearing. You had been changed while you slept. Distressing.

You sat back down on the bed and ate. The apple was gone all too soon, but you were still hungry. That was nothing new. In your life, sometimes it came down to medical expenses or food. At least you'd had an apple and a cup of water. In a situation as uncertain as this, you would be glad to have had it.

But why were you here? Those two men had kidnapped you, for sure, but to what end? What for? Because you were an agitator? You'd heard stories recently about community organizers being targeted, grabbed off the streets and tossed into vans, or yanked from their own homes in the middle of the night. You weren't important like that though. You didn't organize, you just marched. You had no power, no voice, no following. You just marched. You'd borne the brunt of police brutality along with thousands of your fellows across the country, but it wasn't as if anybody knew your name.

Why had they taken you? And so violently? So brazenly? What did they want from you?

There was a light knock at the door, and you jumped in surprise, toppling over with a curse. Two people rushed into the room, and to your side, expressing concern. You flailed at them, trying to bat them away until you realized they were attempting to help you. You allowed them to haul you to the bed and sat yourself down.

“Who are you?” You demanded. “What do you want from me?”

They were children, basically. A girl and boy, teenagers. The boy had a basket on his back.

“I'm Bjarkhilde. This is Andvarri. I am an apprentice healer, and he is an artificer.”

“I've come to measure your leg, my lady.” Andvarri said politely, setting his basket on the stone end table. “We intend to make you a new one. Lighter, more functional.”

“M-my leg? A new leg? Why?” This was baffling. Why kidnap you, just to send children to see to your medical needs? “No...No. Don't touch me. What do you actually want? Who do you work for?”

The teenagers glanced at each other in clear confusion.

“We work for...the healers? And the artificers?” Bjarkhilde said.

“And ultimately the Crown?”

“What crown? What do you want? I said don't touch me! Get away from me! I'm not giving you anything!” You snapped, slapping their hands away.

Bjarkhilde grabbed Andvarri and his basket.

“We should come back later.” She said, dragging him back out the door.

It was fine. You didn't trust them. They worked for whoever had kidnapped you. You didn't owe them the time of day.

You didn't even know the time of day.

The outburst had left you worn out, that and all the sudden movement, and whatever drug was left in your system. You sat back down on the bed, head swimming. Were there guards outside the door? It didn't seem to be locked. Maybe you could find a nurse and ask for help.

You hobbled to the door, out into the hallway. But the sudden brightness of the lights out there hit you like a punch in the head, and you stumbled.

Someone caught you before your face smashed on the stone floor.

“Careful love.” That someone said. You blinked, eyes dazzled. “You might not be in the right shape for exertion just yet.” The voice was low, and carried the echo of a growl, but no anger. Whoever it was lifted you effortlessly into his arms, and carried you back to the stone bed and the dim light.

“Oh, you've already eaten the whole thing.” He said. He must have meant the apple. “That was faster than I expected. I would have liked to feed it to you myself, but...Oh well. This will speed things along, though it might be more unpleasant than it would have been if you'd eaten it over the course of a few days.”

“What are you talking about?” You demanded. He had taken a seat on the stone block end table, a crow against the creamy walls. Or maybe a magpie, as he was pale about the face and hands, but black accented with green everywhere else.

“I've given you a gift.” he said with a little smile, but gave no other information.

You scooted to the opposite side of the bed.

“Where am I?”

He blinked, the smile fading. “You are in Asgard, of course.”

The words almost slid off of you, they were so ridiculous. Asgard? Asgard was a mystery. It barely existed. It was nothing more than a collection of cosmic refugees who had been granted land to rebuild by the U.N.-but no one seemed to know where. No one was reporting new neighbors building alien architecture. No extraterrestrials were walking into local coffee shops after a long day of work. No one even knew where they could be. Even the remotest islands could be contacted, even Antarctica could be seen on Google Maps. But the greater public had found nothing.

The Asgardians had a spaceship that came for supplies every now and then, but it seemed to have some kind of invisibility device, because as soon as it lifted above the clouds, it would disappear, undetectable by telescope or radar, to fly off to whatever secret stronghold they had been granted. No one was able to trace its movements back to its home.

It made sense, of course. If Asgard wasn't hidden, they would be plagued constantly, by curious humans, by horny humans, by worshipful humans, by hateful humans, by vengeful humans. Asgard was a source of great controversy. The people of the God-Hero Thor, greatly beloved and celebrated. But also the people of the Mad Conqueror Loki, loathed and feared. What if more of these Asgardians turned out to be like him? That was the great worry of most of Asgard's detractors. What if there were more Lokis? Even though Loki had been declared dead years ago, what if he had a following?

“Why am I in Asgard? Why did you kidnap me?”You demanded. What could Asgard possibly want with you? It made no sense at all.

The magpie's eyebrows were practically beetled now. “Kidnapped? You were kidnapped? By whom?”

“What do you mean 'by whom'? By you! Your goons!”

“I don't have goons! And I didn't authorize any kidnapping! I thought it was just some Earth custom!”

“Earth custom? Custom for what? Why could Asgard possibly want some drugged out woman? Wait, are you after human slaves?”

“No!”

“You are, aren't you? Well guess what, fucker; you got fleeced. Whatever you paid for me, it was too much! I'm completely worthless!” You yanked up the hem of your hospital gown. “Check that out, eh? No leg! And on top of that, I'm incredibly disagreeable! No friends! No cheery personality! Totally worthless. Good job, asshole! You're getting nothing outta me!”

“Don't say that.” He said, rounding the bed. You scooted back to the other side.

“Sucks to be robbed, doesn't it?” You taunted.

“No, don't say you're worthless. You're not worthless!” He insisted.

“You don't know that. You don't know anything about me.”

“I know you are strong and resilient. You walk on a leg that isn't there, like an Asgardian warrior. Are you in pain? Please, we can make medicine for you. Let me help you!”

“You just stay over there!” You pointed at him, as if to keep him at arm's length. It worked too; he came no closer than the end of your fingertip. “If I'm not a slave, then I've got rights. You owe me big time, buster! You owe me answers!”

“Anything you want.” He said, hands up in front of him in a placating gesture.

“Alright. We'll start with...Who are you?”

He gave you an absolutely dumbfounded look.

“You don't know? How can you not know? Did they tell you nothing?”

“I already said I was kidnapped! You think I had a nice conversation with them?”

He shook his head, disbelieving. “Something is very wrong. Please, will you tell me what happened? From your perspective.”

“My perspective? Hmph.” This guy was acting so clueless, it was almost insulting. “From my perspective, I went into work in the morning, and by noon, I'd been fired. My boss said it was because of my arrest record, but it wasn't.”

“Arrest record?” Now he sounded scandalized.

“It was bullshit. I was at a march a couple months ago, and one of the cops sent to break it up shoved past me and tripped on some garbage. Started shouting that I'd knocked him down. Me! He dropped me on my ass and started hitting me with my own cane. Right up until my leg came off, which I guess startled him, because he stopped doing it. His buddies still came over and arrested me. Against the law to get my own ass beat, I guess. They let me go the next day, because there were a thousand phones on them and the video was everywhere, from all angles. Still had to fight to get my leg and cane back. Damn cane was a little bent since then, but it's gone now.”

The man simply stared at you, expression of shocked outrage stretching his features.

“Your lawkeepers attacked you for no reason?”

“Oh no, there was absolutely a reason. To send a message. 'You aren't people, and we will hurt you to keep it that way'. They've been sending that message for decades, but they've really ramped it up over the past couple presidential administrations.”

“Unacceptable.”

“True. But it's a lie. That's not why I got fired, or else it would have happened after I was released. No, I was fired because two MIBs came in and said so.”

“MIBs?” The mans slowly growing confusion was reaching his voice now, driving it upward.

“Men in Black. Nameless, no I.D. government agents, meant to be secret and interchangeable. They came in about lunchtime and pressured my boss to fire me. And he caved fast.”

“The spineless wretch!”

“That's what I thought too! Lower and middle management are a bunch of wet noodles. Mouthpieces. So I grabbed my stuff and left. That bitch Betty smirking the whole way.”

“Betty?”

“Don't worry about her; her kids are all gonna leave and never talk to her again as soon as they turn eighteen. But those sleazy G-men stalked me, and dragged me into an alley, and drugged me. And then I woke up here. In...Asgard? You said Asgard, but why? Why would anyone in Asgard wanna kidnap me? I'm no one worth kidnapping. I'm not even worth selling, especially not to some fairy tale kingdom. Why am I here? Tell me why I'm here!”

The strange magpie man had slowly sunk down to sit on the opposite end of the bed-still at arms length-and picked at his palms, staring down at them like he was about to cry.

“This is terribly wrong.” He said quietly. “It wasn't supposed to happen like this. I don't understand. This was a clear attempt at reconciliation, a grand opportunity to form powerful links between our peoples. Why sabotage that? Why do this? You are not even related to your nation's ruler, are you?”

“We don't have a ruler!” You insisted. “We have a temporary leader who is supposed to be democratically elected! I don't care what that guy thinks, we are going to keep fighting his takeover at every turn! And no, I'm not related to that dictator wannabe, I think I'd die of shame!”

“I see...so it was a sham from the beginning. I have been duped by your shame leader. I, of all people. And what of you, my dear? Caught up in all this, without any choice of your own. But it's already done. I can't take it back now. What terrible situation have we put you in?”

“That's what I'd like to know.” You said. He sounded remorseful, but he still hadn't answered your questions. “Who are you, and what is all this about?”

“My dear. My poor, sweet dear. I am so sorry. I can't undo it now. Please, please, I know this may come as a shock, but please do not be afraid.”

“Way too late.”

“I know. I know. I'm sorry.” He stood, formal and imposing. “My name is Loki; I am the Crown Prince of Asgard. And I asked not for a slave, but for a bride.”

#danceofthespheres #loki (marvel)#loki x reader

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 3 years

Text

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 210

210

For some reason only known to the lord above, on their bed, “wrapped” with a red ribbon around its handle, was a lawnmower. Blue, silver, and black in colour, this had to be Shiro’s dumb idea. No normal human would gift them a lawnmower at a baby shower, nor would they put it “in bed” like it made any kind of logical sense. It hadn’t been there when Keith opened the windows earlier... if he’d seen it, he would have moved it. Sniffling loudly, Lance then choked out

“They got me a lawnmower! I’m a terrible person!”

Now that he knew Matt had been in their space, he could smell him in the room. Too many scents were in their room. Matt, Curtis, and Shiro, three scents that didn’t belong in their space. Lance gave them pretty much free reign of the house, allowing them to violate the sanctity of his office with the promise they’d never look at his client files, or in the boxes that’d come from Lenny and were currently occupying the spare bed

“Let me take it off the bed, then you sit down and we’ll talk”

Lance shook his head, the way he gazed at their bed hurt to see

“I need the bathroom first...”

“Okay, baby. It’s okay, we’ll sort this out”

Lance came stumbling out the bathroom looking worse than when he’d headed in. Downstairs Rieva had started yelling at Matt for being stupid, then started yelling at Shiro for encouraging Matt to be stupid. Coran had tried to calm her, so she’d yelled at him about how he should understand what Lance was feeling with his nesting instincts and being close to giving birth. There was a whole lot of yelling for a party that had been otherwise running semi-smoothly, provided you didn’t count Pidge feeling a bit down and Shiro and Curtis cremating the sausages on the barbecue, somehow managing to leave the middle red raw.

Waddling over to him, Keith held his arms open, Lance going straight for the hug. Nosing at Lance’s belly, Keith sighed softly as his fiancé started playing with his hair

“You should sit down”

“My stomach feels gross, I want to stand for a bit...”

“You don’t need to hide it. Matt shouldn’t have been in here”

“I know he lives here... but this was supposed to be our alone space... I can smell him... and... and... the windows open and all our smells are gone. Why would he open the window? Why did he have to come in and ruin our room? I don’t go in theirs! Not even to clean! I get they wanted to surprise us but... this is our room! I don’t want the... the smell changing and now it’s being ruined”

With tears dropping on Keith’s hair, Keith tilted his head back to look up at Lance

“I’m... the one who opened the windows. I’m sorry. I was trying to get rid of Lotor’s scent for you. I didn’t think about how comforting scent is when we’re like this. I’m sorry I fucked things up for you”

Lance hiccuped a sob as he tried to bring his crying under control

“You... you didn’t... know... I... I don’t know what to do. This feels... wrong... in here... I can’t... I don’t know how to... how to... fix it... This... was... my safe space...”

Keith got it. Lance’s loved the comfort of blankets before he’d gotten pregnant, with all the instincts running through him, he had to have things a certain way. Despite his fiancé being anal about the dirty washing going in the dirty clothes basket, more than a few of Keith’s shirts had made it between the blankets. Keith also benefited from the space being so thoroughly soaked in their scents. He could smell the difference between Matt’s lingering scent in the halls and his fresh scent in his room. Poor Matt copping the brunt of his silent jealous as he was the only other person in the house that could get Lance pregnant, had his fiancé not already been pregnant. His ego had a hard time accepting Matt near Lance when Lance could pop at any moment. His fear made no logic sense, yet that didn’t mean that did exist

“It’s still our safe place. I’m sorry my brother is incapable of being a normal human, and I’m sorry that he was probably really proud of putting the lawnmower on our bed...”

“I want to laugh at that, it’s a good one and it’s funny, but I feel so angry that I’m not sure I won’t go for blood if we go downstairs... I don’t want to be that way. Not today. They put together a great party for us. I just wanted to be normal enough to enjoy it”

“There’s still plenty of time. We can strip the bed and change out what’s on it. It’ll help to get rid of Lotor’s scent too”

“I know. I know it’s just some sheets and blankets, but...”

“You’re exhausted. I know you are, babe. Let me change the sheets and you can have a bit of a nap. With the amount of alcohol Pidge stocked, I’m pretty sure drinking is on the plans”

“I haven’t thanked anyone... I don’t deserve any of this. Not a barbecue, or an outside set, or a really nice new lawnmower...”

Keith would steal every star in the sky if it made Lance happy

“You do. No one made our friends go out and buy anything. They chose to, and it’s not like it’s just for us. I’m sorry I didn’t get you a present”

“You don’t need to. And I don’t need a fancy ring. You keep your word, babe. That’s all I need”

“Let’s get you to bed. Tonight we’ll make sure to really stink the blankets up”

Lance gave a broken sob of a laugh

“You’d have sex with me, when I look like this?”

“If you haven’t realised by now, all you have to do is breathe and I’m like “I want to tap that”

“You’re going the right way for a smacked arse”

“Promises, promises. Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to let you pull my hair as I rail you to the mattress”

“Now who’s making promises?”

“You already said it, I keep my word. Just keep your night open, because I’m not letting you slip away”

Lance fought going down for a nap, Keith fought the urge to stay with him, dragging himself from their room and downstairs. Their friends knew better than to let the pair of them disappearing bring the party to a close. Coran was now getting a lesson in beer pong from a ruthless Pidge. Rieva and Matt both seemed saddened, their scents weird as they hit his nose. Allura the first to cast a smile in his direction

“I’m assuming that Lance went down for a nap as you’ve returned alone?”

“Yeah. He needed it. I’ll wake him up in a couple of hours”

Shiro cleared his throat, Allura about to say something else but stopped so Shiro could

“I’m sorry about the lawnmower, we thought it’d be hilarious”

Lance’s obsession with grass was well known, the only way the joke could have been funnier was if they’d dressed the lawnmower in lingerie

“Oh, Lance thinks it’s funny as fuck. He loves it. He’s just super sensitive to scents, and I made it worse by airing out our bedroom. He’ll bounce back and you know he’s going to be apologising when he comes back down. I still don’t know why you guys had to go through our drawers”

Shiro answered for Matt who copped a very direct glare from Keith. Matt couldn’t help being a werewolf any more than Keith could. Both of them cared deeply for Lance, their stupid egos and scents making things ridiculous for the pair of them

“I needed a spanner. We were joking about how being Lance, he’d probably keep on in his room... you know, because he fixes everything the moment he knows somethings broken or leaking”

Keith groaned. That was logical. He wouldn’t be surprised if Lance did. Everyone knew Lance was the handiest person in their group

“Okay. That’s fair. But stay out of our room from now on. This scent thing is really messing with his head. He doesn’t want to be mad, but he’s also emotionally exhausted”

Shiro gave him a mock salute

“Message received loud and clear. Are you staying down here, or headed back up?”

The temptation to go back to Lance was enormous. Helping him strip down to his shirt and underwear, Keith had tucked him with plenty of kisses until Lance finally drifted off to sleep. His fiancé looked so angelic when he was slept, though plenty of people would argue the snoring and drooling ruined the effect

“Nah, he’ll be fine. I’m more interested in who’s winning and who’s idea it was to let Coran face Pidge of all people”

“His. Grab a beer and come sit down”

A beer sounded great... This was a party after all... but he’d been a drunken idiot far too many times with Lance taking care of him. The time had come to be an adult and stick with water for the rest of the party

“Ugh. I wish. I’ll be back in a minute”

Being a fae, they were renown as trickster demons. Keith had never seen Coran this competitive as the tables turned on the game of beer pong. Starting to make trick shots, Pidge was soon swapped out for Curtis, heading down the wrong side of tipsy she tripped and landed in Krolia’s lap, declaring a rematch would be had once she’d sobered up enough not to be yelling into Krolia’s crotch. Curtis put on a valiant effort, making more shots than he missed, yet Coran didn’t show the slightest hint of intoxication. Lance would have been shocked. Keith was shocked. In Coran’s world there was nothing better than a good cup of tea... not copious amounts of alcohol.

There came a gradual shift in the mood of the party. It’d become less of a baby shower and more of a “We need to defeat the demon in Lance’s living room” kind of a deal. Curtis was subbed out, six shots his limit. Coran, on the other hand, didn’t get the game and questioned why his cups weren’t refilled. Matt happy to refill Coran’s cups, not mentioning the aim of the game was to make the loser empty all of theirs. After Curtis came Shiro, who already tipsy from the seems of things, was beaten easily as he failed almost every throw, Coran growing more talkative and prideful in defeating their friends one by one. Finishing the cups in front of him, Shiro flopped over backwards where he sat, Coran frowning at losing his opponent as he asked

“Now what happens?”

Rieva retrieved Shiro, dragging him over to prop him up against the chair near Krolia’s feet. Firmly she brought things to an end. Shiro looked absolutely wasted as he sat there with his eyes closed and a smile playing in his lips. He didn’t even seem to notice when Krolia stuck her bare foot under his nose

“That’s it. All the cups on this side are finished”

“That’s rather disappointing. I really quite like this game of yours. My cups are still quite full. Allura, perhaps you would fancy a game?”

Allura laughed politely. She’d been cheering on their friends, though she had no idea what to cheer over, she’d given it her best shot

“I think I’ve seen quite enough. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you consume so much alcohol”

“Nonsense. This is mere dishwater compared to the stuff we used to drink. Barely made a dent, if I do say so myself”

The man had single handedly taken out Pidge, Curtis and Shiro... and was still up for more? Keith could only shake his head at the thought of a drunk Coran being as rambling as a tired Lance

“Krolia, perhaps...?”

“Nope. I’m driving Curtis and Shiro home tonight. Keith’s got Lance to look after, Hunk has to drive Shay home”

“Then perhaps our Shay would care for a game?”

Shay shook her head

“I’m not going there. You’re a demon, what chance do I stand?”

Coran burst into tears. None of them expected it and no one quite knew what to do, apart from Allura who slipped off the sofa to wrap her arms around him to comfort the fae. They couldn’t help being humans

“There, there. They are human after all”

Coran shook his head, puffing his chest out

“Don’t you see, I won! This means I’m the winner! Oh, I can’t remember the last time I won at something so fun, and on my first try!”

A silent groan fill the room. They’d bowed out, and their plan to take Coran was ruined by the sheer amount of alcohol he could tolerate. Allura clearly forced a smile to her lips, Keith sympathetic as this would surely become another of his stories they’d all be stuck listening to

“Uh, yes. Yes, I suppose it does...”

“Wait! I can still drink!”

Waving her left arm, Pidge pushed herself up with her right hand, then flopped backwards against Krolia

“No I can’t! Where’s Lance?! He could do it!”

Patting her arm, Shay broke the bad news to Pidge

“Lance isn’t allowed to drink, it’s bad for the twins”

Pidge’s eyes narrowed, animatedly she yelled angrily

“That undead arsehole! Lance! You suck! Coran, I demand a rematch!”

Coran’s eyes filled with some kind of excitement. Drunk Pidge wasn’t someone to be messed with, heck, sober Pidge wasn’t someone to mess with but with her moral compass out the window anything was likely to happen

“What do you suggest?”

“Mario! You’re gonna lose so bad! That useless Peach is gonna wipe the floor with you! Hunk, we need Mario! I won’t be happy until he feels the devastation of rainbow bridge!”

Hunk pointed to himself, Pidge nodding, Keith wondered if he should say a prayer for Coran now or later on

“This rainbow bridge sounds most interesting. How do you play?”

Pidge wiggled her fingers at Coran as she laughed, failing at trying some kind of spooky accent

“Very very carefully. No one beats Pidge on the rainbow bridge! You hear me, Lance! I’m coming for you too!”

For all her yelling, a long groan of his name from upstairs told Keith that Lance had finally woken up due to their pint sized big mouth. His fiancé’s timing couldn’t have been better as he needed an excuse to flee the living area. Coran had no idea the fire he’d awoken in Pidge. A sober Pidge with a controller in her hands was bad enough, a drunk Pidge with a controller in her hands was near on demonic. With a healthy fear of what would happen should Pidge lose, Keith opted for the convenient excuse of Lance calling for him. Yeah. Whatever happened, the others would totally take care of it... he was not a coward at all.

Sitting on the edge of their bed, Lance had gotten himself tangled trying to take his shirt off. His fiancé’s expression filled with sadness as he softly asked

“Keith... help?”

“Oh, babe. I’ve got you”

Lance had gotten one arm out, and stuck in head hole bit, too sleepy to escape on his own. Walking over to his fiancé, he dropped a kiss on Lance’s head before taking over getting Lance free of his shirt

“I’m sorry...”

“It’s okay. Is there a reason you were getting naked?”

“Wanna take a shower... I made a mess”

As Lance started crying, Keith hushed him. His fiancé pretty much limp as he got his trapped arm free and then helped him out his shirt

“Okay, mister. Pants next”

“I made a mess”

Messes happened. Lance couldn’t help it

“That’s okay, these things happen. Let’s get you out your underwear. Up we go”

Swaying on his feet, Keith pulled down Lance’s underwear as Lance kept his balance with his hand on Keith’s shoulder. The mess wasn’t what Keith expected. Lance’s underwear sodden with cum, his lover half hard as Keith tried not to stare

“Don’t... look... it’s embarrassing”

“You had a wet dream, no big deal. Was it about me?”

“You’re the one who put sex in my head... I want to take a shower”

“Do you remember what happened?”

Downstairs no longer mattered. Keith’s ego elated that Lance had had a sexy sex dream about them

“Keeeeith... please...”

Taking Lance’s half hard erection, Lance groaned as Keith slowly began to jerk him off

“Tell me what happened in your dream”

“Babe... the party”

“Fuck the party... they can afford to miss us and we really don’t want to go back down there right away”

Shifting position, Keith wrapped his lips around the tip of Lance’s dick, sucking lightly as Lance’s hand flew to his hair

“Keeeith”

Letting his lips slide to meet where his hand was, Keith bobbed his head twice before pulling back

“I want to know what you were dreaming about”

“You...”

“What about me?”

Jerking Lance faster, his fiancé moaned. He knew teasing was bad, yet was too filled with elated ego not to. Letting himself feel pleasure rather than pressing need to shower and return to the party, Lance panted out his words between moans

“I... you... were riding... my dick... I was fucking you”

“Is that what you want to do? Do you want to fuck my mouth?”

“God, yes”

“Then you better do it like you mean it”

Holding Keith’s head to his groin, Lance slowly built up to fucking his mouth. His pregnant fiancé had urges, and it’d been a long while since they’d used the pocket pussy, as they usually couldn’t slow down and stop themselves long enough to think about anything other than getting off. Hallowing his cheeks, Keith had tears in his eyes, Lance filling his mouth perfectly, even if he seemed to be trying to ram his dick down Keith’s throat, despite how bad it’d initially made Keith gag

“Keith... I’m gonna come”

“Nghhffd...”

That was Keith speak for a yes, “while my fiancé’s fucking my face”, Lance easing back enough to give space to Keith as cum flooded his mouth, then dribbled down his chin as he tried to swallow as much as he could. The vampire coming with a low growl as his fingertips scratched Keith’s scalp.

As Lance’s knees gave out, Keith caught him by the hips, pushing him so “fell” sitting on their bed. His lover’s chest heaved, as he brought his breathing back under control, Keith wiping Lance off his face with the back of his hand

“You looked wrecked... and we didn’t even do the do”

He was horny, nearly coming in his pants from blowing Lance. Lance would fall back to sleep if they had sex now. Plus he’d be overly sensitive from coming twice

“You seemed pretty into it”

“I was very into it, now I’m very into going for a shower... want me to return the favour”

A million times yes!

“Nah, it’s fine. That was kind of hot”

“Your mouth was kind of hot... I did try to tell you I was coming”

“The meal was delicious. Am I as good as you dreamt?”

Bringing a hand up, Lance rubbed at his stomach. They’d made about as much mess as what Lance had woken up in... whoops

“Way better in real life... God, I feel fat. Help me up?”

“You’re not fat”

“Are you sure? I feel like I just ran a marathon”

“Babe, you’re in great shape. Round is a shape”

Lance kicked him lightly in the leg for his teasing

“I know how round I am, I don’t need a reminder”

“I’m just saying... You’re a very round little vampire. I wonder how chubby your bat form would be”

“Well don’t... I can’t believe I let you blow me when we should be downstairs entertaining our guests”

“Well I can’t believe it’s not butter”

His lame joke earned him a sigh from his fiancé

“That was terrible. You should feel bad”

“I do. I also feel like bending you over our bed and fucking you senseless, but you’re right, we have a party to get back to”

Lance opened and shut his mouth, cheeks flushed as he looked away from Keith

“I suppose a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt”

God. If only Lance knew how much he wanted to take him up on that offer. He probably should be putting himself in a horny mutt time out, but it’d been sooooo long since he’d had Lance beneath him. His dick was definitely up for it... Time to adult again

“It’s okay, babe, I’m joking. Besides, you’re going to need whatever energy you have left to keep the peace downstairs. Pidge challenged Coran to rainbow bridge”

“Damn. I go down for a nap and miss all the excitement...”

“He also got Shiro, Curtis and Pidge all like drunk by winning beer pong. So it’s drunk Pidge taking on Demon Coran”

Lance groaned

“My poor living room. It’ll never be the same again”

“Nope. Come on, you can lament the loss of your living room in the shower, then maybe we can wrap this party up and go to bed early”

Keith was weak and Lance’s arse was glorious. He’d been going to behave himself, he really had... then he’d been sidetracked. Sitting on the toilet, he told himself he making sure Lance didn’t slip... not ogling his gorgeous fiancé. One thing lead to another and then suddenly he had Lance bent over the bathroom counter, lasting all of a minute. It was quick quickie, even for them. Lance’s arse too cute not to touch, his lover’s opening soft and puffy beneath his fingers when he’d been supposed to help Lance dry off properly. Whoops... Keith tried to feel bad but the strength and warmth of their bond left him smiling like an idiot. He really did deserve a cone of shame around his neck, Lance’s boobs the perfect handful as he lost himself. Nobody pregnant had the right to be as perfect as his mate. His belly so gravid Lance looked as if he had a whole soccer team inside him. Keith definitely knew he had a kink for his very pregnant fiancé, he just didn’t know how to knock said kink on the head. Lance limping as he led him back into their room to get him dressed, Keith promising to clean their cum off the bathroom cabinet and floor before Lance realised he’d only cleaned him up.

Lance insisted on looking “presentable” as Keith helped him into his clothes. Keith annoyed at how many buttons there were that’d he have to undo later to get his vampire naked again. Wisely he kept this to himself. Lance would have smacked if he’d known his mind was still in the gutter after fucking his arse with as much force and need as Lance had fucked his mouth. Maybe he should try bottoming again? The weight of Lance’s stomach hanging low must have been uncomfortable as it’d taken a bit to bring Lance to orgasm, despite his hips having a life of their own. Stealing a few extra moments, Keith wrapped his arm around Lance, dropping kisses to the top of his head as Lance chuckled at him for it. He loved Lance. A good solid dose of cuddles from his fiancé was just the thing he needed before they headed back down to face their friends.

#once bitten twice stupid #oncebittentwicestupid #ashratherose

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susiequaz12 · 4 years

Text

Carrot Top- 13: Punished

I guess these chapters are getting progressively longer and longer. I think I’m okay with that. As always, my inbox is always open with any questions about the story/characters/world/tag list/etc, or if you just want to talk! So anyways, here’s part 13! (Side note: I didn’t expect to actually continue so far with this and have it have so many parts, but I’ve already got 18 chapters written and a whole storyline, so I guess there’s no turning back now.)

CW: (Finally a bit of fluff/comfort) not for long though, restraints, muzzled, dehumanization, captivity, non con touching (nonsexual), possessive whumper, blood.

Tag list: @imagination1reality0, @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi, @thehopelessopus

The next 24 hours while Andrew continued to rest from Howe’s procedure were arguably worse than some of the previous times he’d been alone with Splice.

He was constantly bothered.

After Splice had placed the muzzle on and left, Howe came in looking exasperated. He cut open the leg of his pants, and stitched up Andrew’s leg as best as he could before putting the boy back to sleep. When he finally woke up a while later, Splice came in just to torment him. He gave him another grammar lesson- removing the muzzle for a few minutes just to hear Andrew plead and beg out of fear. He would wait for the boy to give him the answers that he wanted before placing it back on his face again.

That happened several times. And by the third or fourth lesson, Andrew began to believe it. The words that he was forced to repeat echoed over and over in his mind.

He belonged to Splice.

He was an object to be used whenever, and wherever that he saw fit.

Because he deserved it.

- - -

When his chest had healed enough for Howe to remove the bands holding him down, the boy found that he still couldn’t move.

It was as if his limbs didn’t work. They were stiff and achy from being stuck in the same position for so long, his body weakened and deprived. He let out a weak cry as he attempted to bring a hand up to his face. He barely got his wrist off of the table before the muscles in his arm gave out, crashing back down.

The doctor placed a gentle hand on his back and lifted him up to sitting. Andrew whined through the muzzle as his muscles flared up, and his head lolled to his chest. Howe began to rub the feeling back into the boy’s arms, stimulating his muscles, making sure they still worked.

With the Doctor’s help, he guided the boy to the other side of the room. No doubt he would have carried him if he could, but the boy was at least a head taller than Howe. As Andrew’s toes met the floor, his legs immediately buckled under his weight. If it were not for the Doctor’s steady arm around his back, Andrew would have crashed to the floor.

It took a few moments for the boy to regain some balance before they were able to move away from the table. Andrew limped drastically, putting most of his weight on one leg, and the doctor, as he shuffled and dragged his feet trying to keep himself upright.

Howe helped him change into some cleaner cotton pants- the same grey capris from earlier- and pulled a thin, white t-shirt over his head. He sat the boy down on the edge of the soft bed he had initially been placed in when he first met Howe.

Andrew immediately sank into the softer material. It was much nicer than the examination table- far more comfortable. It had soft sheets, and a thin blanket with an old pillow, but it was comfortable.

To Andrew it felt like a cloud. Like he was floating.

He let his body fall into the soft bed as his muscles collapsed underneath him, letting the material of the mattress contour to his aching body- cradling him in the comfort. He didn’t put up a fight or a struggle when Howe restrained his ankles to the bottom of the bed.

The boy curled over on his side, tucking his hands to his chest as the blanket was pulled over top of him.

He huffed a small sigh of relief and comfort as he nuzzled his head up against the pillow.

He’d cherish this while he had it, because he knew it wouldn’t last long.

- - -

When Andrew was healed enough to no longer need the constant watchful eye of Howe, he was moved to a cell.

Well, they called it his room, but it was essentially a cell.

It was kept inside of the nicer part of the building, the part that connected to the lavish mansion that Splice lived in. Andrew could tell that it was originally meant to be an office, a storage room or something. But all the walls were bare- there were no windows, no outlets, or a lightswitch or anything. The only thing inside the room was a small closet in the corner furnished with a toilet, a cot with a single blanket, and a bench on the opposite side of the room.

Everything was bolted into the tiled floor.

The door was always heavily bolted from the outside, and guarded with at least two people. Andrew was monitored whenever he left the room, and whenever he came back. It wouldn’t surprise him if there were cameras hidden in the small room as well.

It had been three days since he’d been moved from that medical room.

And once he’d realized he’d been here over a week, he knew no one was coming anytime soon.

His friends were mad at him, surely.

He’d gotten into a fight with Justin before he left, and it was all his fault. Ali would surely take his side.

All he could think was that if he hadn’t gotten mad at them, hadn’t wandered off on his own, he wouldn’t be here now.

So Splice was right.

He deserved it.

Andrew laid on his back on the cot. He had his feet wrapped up in the blanket, the rest of him exposed. His feet were always cold. He wouldn’t dare to ask for something as small as a pair of socks.

Maybe he could ask for a book or something. Or even a pad of paper- he’d been thinking of taking up drawing again. It was something he was really into during high school, but he’d lost it over the years.

He just wanted something simple to fight the boredom.

Something to fight against the monotony.

Wake up, eat, endure through whatever the heck Splice felt like doing that day, eat again, sleep. And repeat.

Most days were filled with examinations. He sat in a room filled with “doctors” (the fake ones that Howe had talked about), and was poked and prodded and violated and examined and tested on.

After all, that’s what Splice did here. He captured their kind, people with their abilities, to examine and experiment on them and see how they worked.

And then he used those experiments to genetically modify their abilities.

Some days when Splice got upset, he would take it out on Andrew. There was never a moment the boy went without pain, or discomfort. Constant fear, anxiety, and trauma, invaded his new day-to-day.

A knock sounded on the door.

Here we go again.

Splice sauntered into the room, carrying a small plate and a glass of water.

“Good morning carrot top!”

The boy immediately scrambled back into the corner of the wall upon seeing the man but quickly stopped himself.

Splice chuckled. “One of these days you’ll stop acting so scared when you see me. Do I really frighten you that much?”

Andrew paused. Should he answer? The man had taught him many things while he had been there. The consequences that came from talking out of turn had been one of them.

“N- no sir. Sorry sir.” He lowered his head towards the bed and tried to steady the shaking in his limbs as the man stepped closer. He sat on the edge of the bed and held out the plate.

“Eat up. Come on now.”

Andrew tentatively took the plate. A single piece of toast with a protein spread on it. He gingerly took a bite and kept his eyes down as he chewed.

When he finally managed to choke down his breakfast, the man handed him a glass of water, which he gratefully drank.

Splice removed the blanket from his feet and unattached the chains that kept him tied down to the cot. On shaky legs he managed to rise and move to the closet in the corner to use the bathroom. When he was done, he limped back to the bed and sat down on the cot.

Splice reached into the inside pocket of his suit coat and pulled out Andrew’s least favorite part of the day.

The muzzle.

The foul thing was taken off while he slept and while he ate. Other than for those few times, he was constantly forced to wear it.

He saw the thick leather coming towards his face and imagined the bit in his mouth. All he could feel was it suffocating him, trapping in his breath and his words. Making it hard to swallow, forcing him to choke on his own blood, and vomit. He was sick of wearing it constantly. He wanted to be able to speak he wanted to breathe freely, he wanted to-

“--no.”

The word came out before he realized what he had said. He clamped his hands over his mouth and shook his head. The tears already poured down his face as Splice recoiled in shock.

“What. Did. You. Just. Say?”

The boy kept his hands over his mouth as he mumbled. “I- I’m sorry, msorry- I shouldn’t hve, I- I didn’t please- please, sir, I-”

Splice threw the plate and cup down to the floor where it clattered. The boy flinched.

“Did you tell me no?”

“I’m - I’msorry I’m sorry, please don’t- I- I”

Splice grabbed the boy’s wrists in one hand and pulled him off of the bed to his feet. He stood on shaky legs, most of his weight leaning to one side.

“Kneel.”

The boy surprised himself with how quickly his knees hit the ground. He winced as pain flared up his leg- the one that had been stabbed through a few days ago.

“Who do you belong to?”

Andrew sobbed. Wrists shaking as they were held up in front of him like a forced plea. He leaned forward and put his head in his own hands.

“You- I- I belong to you.”

“Good.” Splice stated. His other hand went to the back of Andrew’s hair. He pushed the boy’s head into his own chest as he knelt on the floor in front of him. He kept a grip firmly on the boy’s wrists as he stroked the pale hair. The hair that had once been colored with fire, just like the boy’s attitude only a few days ago.

“Now, what did you do wrong?”

Andrew’s chest shook with a sob.

“I- I said no.”

“Good, and?” Splice prompted.

“And I- I spoke out of turn. I didn- didn’t do what I- what I was s’posed to.”

“Good.” Splice shuffled forward on his knees. The boy leaned backwards to accommodate and Spliced inched further as he did so.

“You didn’t do what you’re supposed to, exactly.”

He kept a grip on the boy’s wrists and on the back of his hair as he moved forward, pushing the boy down until his back was forced to the ground.

Andrew’s eyes got wide out of confusion and he let out a small whimper as he untangled his legs out from underneath him to lie flat on his back.

“Can you tell me what happens when you don’t do what you’re supposed to?” Splice moved his hand from the back of Andrew’s hair to the collar around his neck. Once again marking his ownership with a simple piece of fabric.

Andrew choked on his words. Knowing the answer but not wanting to say it. “I- I get- I get punished.”

“Very good.”

Andrew barely noticed as Splice pulled the small knife out of his suit coat.

He only noticed when it began to dig into his arm.

He flinched out of instinct to try and move away and Splice tsked under his breath,

“Oh no, hold still now. You can be good, right?”

Splice let go of the boy’s hands and rearranged himself so he was no longer kneeling besides Andrew, but on top of him. One knee pinned his left shoulder down, while the other straddled his opposite side, forcing his arm to the ground.

“You can be good- right?”

Oh no- Splice had to repeat himself, the boy thought. That was bad, he was going to get angry, and when he got angry he would be punished again, and being punished hurt- and he couldn’t, he didn’t want-

The boy nodded, shaking his head eagerly, tears filling his eyes. He wanted to be good. He needed to be good because if he wasn’t- then-

Andrew winced and clenched his eyes shut as he felt the same cold hands on him.

Splice used one hand to push up the sleeve of his thin t-shirt, and pressed the boy’s shoulder into the floor. The other gripped the knife, and began to start where he had left off.

The knife dug into the top of his arm, near his shoulder.

Andrew whimpered through his teeth. He kept his eyes tight and his breaths shallow, but he did not scream.

The blade traveled down, down through his bicep, stopping halfway between his shoulder and his elbow. The blood seeped out, warm and sticky as it dripped onto the floor around him.

The knife left the cut and Andrew breathed out a sigh of relief. His neck arched back, chest rising in pain as it entered his skin again, only an inch away from the first cut. He clenched his teeth and tried to breathe, but with the weight on top of him, and the pain rushing through him, it seemed nearly impossible.

Finally the knife left and he opened his eyes to see the knife in front of his face.

“Think of these as tally marks.” Splice stated. Andrew’s eyes remained deadly focused on the knife in front of his eyes. “One, for saying no. And another one, as a reminder.”

The flat side of the blade pressed into Andrew’s cheek and wiped across his face. Andrew closed his eyes, heart pounding at the anticipation of pain when he felt the cold metal across his other cheek. The rest of his own blood from the knife was wiped off onto his face.

He winced and his eyes shot open as a hand wrapped around the top of his arm. He struggled to stay quiet, struggled to breathe as the pain shot through his arm. But as Splice squeezed the muscles in his arm, he couldn’t help it.

A strangled cry erupted from his mouth followed by a bottled up scream.

“A reminder to do as you are told. A reminder that you no longer make your own choices. Understand?”

Andrew nodded through his scream.

“Do you understand?”

A nod wasn’t good enough.

Andrew breathed through the pain. Hissing in air through his teeth. Splice gripped his arm tighter.

“I- I arrgh! I- ah- I uh-understand.”

“Good.”

Splice released his grip and patted the side of the boy’s face, leaving a bloody handprint on his cheek. He reached and ruffled through his hair, leaving it sticky and matted with his own blood.

The knife wavered tauntingly in front of Andrew’s eyes. “You know, I quite like the look of blood on your face. It suits you.”

Andrew shut his eyes as the tip of the knife poked into his forehead, and then trailed around his temple, down to his jawline. It left a faint trail of blood through the skin that mingled with the rest that had been smeared on his face.

Splice stood up, leaving the boy lying on the floor. He picked up the plate and cup that he had thrown earlier and put the bloody knife back in his pocket.

Placing a hand in the middle of Andrew’s back, he helped him sit up and put the muzzle on his face. Andrew sobbed through pain and embarrassment, but he did not struggle or fight back. He allowed the man to buckle the leather behind his head, a little tighter than usual, and his sobs and cries were cut off as the bit sat tightly in his mouth once more.

“Come on now, don’t cry. You want to be good for later tonight. The doctors have a new drug they want to try, and you better be the perfect patient.”

#whump #whump writing #carrot top #oc #original writing #blood #knives #possessive whumper #dehumanization #muzzled #finally carrot boi gets some sort of comfort #but not for long #sorry not sorry #I honestly had no idea what to name this chapter

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thefandomlesbian · 4 years

Note

From the angst/fluff prompt list: “I’ve got you” Pairing: foxxay ft blind!cordelia because you write her with respect, reverence and a depth that was sorely lacking on the show!

Here is the link on AO3 for improved formatting! (Tumblr is formatting hell for writers, sorry folks.)

“I believe what you say

In the drama of the moment

Oh no there is no easy way, no one ever leaves

Everyone stays close 'till the fire fades.” -Fleetwood Mac, “Fireflies”

Creeping down the stairs with her cane swinging out before her, Cordelia struggled to place her feet on the steps in a way that didn’t disturb them and send the whole house to creaking and waking the coven. She couldn’t sleep… Her inability to tell days from nights was interfering with her sleep schedule. And the dreams weren’t very much fun, either. She had never dreamt much, before--or, if she had, she had never recalled them--but now she awoke from every nap with her eyes burning, an agonizing burning. Even if she couldn’t remember the dream, she could suss out the meaning without too much trouble.

Her face burned now, too, and she fumbled into the kitchen, reaching into the freezer for an ice pack. She wrapped it up in a paper towel and held it up against her eyes. Sweat curled up against her hairline. I need to get some air. She hadn’t done anything outside since she had come home… since Hank had left. Her skin crawled at the mere thought of him, his infidelity, every betrayal she had unknowingly endured. She had so many questions, but she wouldn’t dare reach out to him to ask. She didn’t want to know the answers. It didn’t matter, none of it, except that she definitely needed to get to the doctor and be tested for every sexually transmitted disease under the sun. She would get tested, she would finalize her divorce, and then she would move on.

Move on to what? There was nothing left for her, she feared. She had already been a fairly incompetent witch before the acid attack. Now, she was blind, helpless, and trapped with Fiona. As a teenager, this would have made her suicidal, but by now, Cordelia had grown quite accustomed to living a life of misery. Besides, the coven needed somebody to tell them when they had lost their goddamn minds, and Fiona certainly wasn’t going to be that person. Somebody had to try to make sure the girls stuck it out and did what they were meant to do. I’m not that person, either, though. Madison had been raped--then she had gone missing. What had Cordelia done? Stood back and let it happen. Who on earth was she that Nan had called the counsel to report another student missing before the headmistress even noticed her absence?

Well, somebody has to try to protect them from Fiona. Cordelia would try her best and then fail miserably, as she had always done before. She knew Fiona was a danger now. That was the one asset of her newfound blindness… Fiona had killed Madison. Cordelia licked her lips as she fumbled around in the kitchen for a glass and filled it with cold water. Her mind wouldn’t slow down. What could she do now? She was fucking helpless. The house was too hot and stuffy. “I need some air,” she said aloud this time, stifled by the aura of the house. Everything in this building told her about her inadequacies--how she had been a poor student, an incompetent witch, a careless teacher, and now a helpless blind divorcee stumbling around the kitchen in the wee hours of the morning unable to get some rest.

The front door was unlocked, she noted as she headed to it and stood on the porch for a few moments, drinking clumsily out of her glass of water. It spilled up over her face. The night was sticky but cool with a breeze teasing the trees. Using her cane, she headed down the steps off the concrete porch. I need the greenhouse. The greenhouse was where she had always felt the most powerful. She could brew remedies there, her potions, and give them to her girls when they were ill. That made her feel helpful. It was one of the few things she could do successfully. She missed the company of the plants and the feeling of being just a witch, not a headmistress or a teacher or a student--just a witch, one with no responsibilities but her own brewing.

The breeze rattled the door to the greenhouse, which stood slightly ajar. “Odd,” she said aloud. She pushed her way inside. The door moaned its high-pitched greeting. With her cane, she found the doorjamb and stepped over it lightly. Inhaling deeply, the sweet smell of plants wafted over her. They’re thriving. I would’ve thought they would’ve started to die by now. She hadn’t visited since the attack. Perhaps someone else had been watering and fertilizing them? No, nobody cares enough about me or them to do that. She was eternally the unwanted member of the coven, reluctantly plugged as its head in Fiona’s absence and blithely replaced when she returned.

The plants jostled as if in the breeze, but in a pattern, in alignment with footsteps. Her heart skipped a beat. Somebody is in here! The figure approached, darting through the leaves of the greenhouse. Not again, not this time! Cordelia swung up her cane. “Get away from me!” She smacked the approaching person with her cane hard.

The person stumbled back. “Ow! Jesus Christ!” A plant tipped over, and she fell down backward, landing on her ass on the dirt floor with a gasp of surprise.

Cordelia froze. “Misty?” Great. First I was incompetent, and now I’m downright abusive. “Oh my god, Misty, are you okay? I’m so sorry!” What the hell was that? She dropped her cane and felt around before her in the new perpetual darkness. “Here, come here, are you okay? Are you bleeding?”

“Yes, Miss Cordelia,” Misty grunted, struggling back to her feet. Her voice was thick with tears--not tears, blood, Cordelia realized with horror. Cordelia took her by the elbows, trying to offer some support, but she wasn’t sure what kind. “Sorry,” she said. “I should’ve just said hullo… I was trying to get out before you noticed I was in here.”

Sucking on her lower lip, Cordelia shook her head. “No, Misty, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have greeted you like I was in a baseball tournament. I was just startled.” I keep thinking they’re going to attack me again. She wasn’t sure why she thought that. Whoever they were, they had already blinded her. What else could they do? If they had wanted to kill her outright, they would’ve done it when they had the opportunity.

Misty complimented, “You’ve got a good swing.” There was a muted smile in her voice. “I didn’t see it coming at all. Granted, I never thought you would try to beat me in the face in the first place, but--all things considered, you got a good arm.” She cleared her throat and spat. “What’re you doing, wandering around here at night, anyway?”

It occurred to Cordelia these were the most words she and Misty had exchanged since Misty had arrived with Myrtle three days ago. She was avoiding meals, and Cordelia had scarcely encountered her at all, even in the building. She revived all the flowers. Misty’s breath was heavy, strange, uneven, and in the space, she stood awkwardly, as if in pain, hovering there. As if in pain. She is in pain! I beat her in the face with my cane! “I could ask you the same thing,” Cordelia said softly. Misty was silent, nothing but her little gasping breaths and trembling hands. Her reluctance to answer was palpable in the air. With her refusal, Cordelia cleared her throat. “I couldn’t sleep. I thought I’d come outside and get some fresh air.”

Misty puffed, suddenly deeper, and she blinked a few times. “Oh… right.” Her tone was so muted, so exhausted, Cordelia couldn’t fathom it.

Cordelia held out her hand. There’s something very wrong with her. She hadn’t hit Misty hard enough to give her a concussion, had she? No, I’m not that strong. “Here, let’s--let’s go inside and get you cleaned up.”

Fidgeting backward, Misty tried to dodge her touch. “Don’t, Miss Cordelia, I’m all bluh-bloody.” Misty had not hesitated to touch her the first time, or anytime since, and the affirmation that she was indeed hiding something drove Cordelia further. Flinching, Misty closed both eyes and held perfectly still as Cordelia caressed her cheek, running her palm over a smear of blood.

The vision crashed before her, Misty fighting sleep, drinking coffee, smelling flowers, pricking herself with thorns, slapping herself, shivering in the cold breeze, doing anything, everything, to keep from succumbing to her fatigue and collapsing. Fear coursed through her veins, fear driven from memories--sleeping peacefully in bed in her family’s home when they tore her from her bed and dragged her, kicking and screaming, across the harsh cement of their driveway and hurled her into the back of a pickup truck, scraped and bleeding and aching, hogtied and gagged and blindfolded. Then she was asleep at her cabin, on her mattress with her ratty blankets, and a gunman burst in and littered the shack with bullets. Her heart raced with pure terror, tormenting her through every minute of the day, and she couldn’t drop her shield to sleep again.

Gingerly, Cordelia dropped her hand from Misty’s cheek and reached for her hand instead. “Misty,” she said quietly, gently, rolling her hand over to feel the pulse in her wrist, rapid and shallow. “How long has it been since you slept?”

Misty swallowed hard. “Since I got here,” she admitted. “Maddie gave me some pills that helped me stay awake. I been mixing them with coffee.”

Cordelia blinked a few times. Another point for being an incompetent teacher--somehow, my witches are trading Adderall without me even knowing about it. “That’s dangerous.” She kept her voice very soft. She didn’t want Misty to think she was being judged. “You could have a heart attack. You need to sleep. How many pills did you take?”

“I… I don’t remember.”

“For future reference--don’t take any medication Madison gives you. For one, it’s hardly ever legal or safe… but also, she’ll sneak you laxatives if she’s mad at you.” It was a late warning, but in Cordelia’s defense, she hadn’t thought that she had to warn Misty not to take illegal drugs.

Licking her lips, Misty slowly nodded her head. “Oh, well--yeah, okay, that’s good to know. You learn that from experience?”

Cordelia chuckled, a dampened thing. “Let’s say I didn’t.” She caressed Misty’s sticky, bloody hand. “Let’s go inside and get you cleaned up, and you can go to bed.” She went to pull on Misty’s hand, but Misty sank her heels in deep. “Misty,” Cordelia implored.

“I can’t.” She refused to budge, and her voice shook. “I can’t!” Cordelia would have had as much luck pushing on a solid wall, for Misty shook her head in obstinate opposition. “I have to stay awake,” she insisted, her voice curdling with fear. She took a step back, away from Cordelia. “I’m not safe if I’m asleep!”

Recognition donned on Cordelia: I’m not the only one afraid they’re going to come back. Misty had been victimized in her sleep twice, first by fire and then by steel. She couldn’t let herself sleep. “Misty,” Cordelia tried to soothe, reaching for her, but Misty gasped for breath and snatched out of her reach, stumbling backward. Her exhaustion had left her limbs unable to hold her up any longer. A broken sob tore through her. “Misty, it’s okay--it’s okay, I promise.”

Curling up tight, drawing her knees to her chest, Misty quaked. Cordelia sank beside her, bumping her head on the table above, and reached to hug her. She’s so cold. She hadn’t slept in so long, her body had lost its ability to regulate its temperature. “Muh-My chest hurts,” Misty whispered between gasps. Cordelia took one shaking hand and pressed it there. What can I do to help her? She had never been good at helping her witches, but Misty needed her. After a moment of stiffening under the hug, Misty caved and clung to her in return. “I’m scared--”

Cordelia tucked her hair behind her ear. She couldn’t tell which fluids were blood, snot, or tears as they all ran together. “Sweetheart.” She hoped that name was okay for Misty. “You’re going to be okay… We won’t let anything happen to you here. I won’t let anything happen to you here.” She caressed Misty’s face. Each touch made her flinch. “Slow down your breathing.” She pressed harder against Misty’s chest. Through her thin shirt, she could feel every heartbeat pounding, too hard and too fast. “You need to sleep.” Misty shook her head in resistance, refusing. “You can come with me. I’ll stay with you. If we’re together, no one will be able to hurt us.” Tearful, trembling fists balled up in Cordelia’s nightgown. We’re both so dirty. She doubted Misty could stand long enough to take a shower. How weird was it if she offered to share a bath with her? Not even in the top ten weirdest things that have ever happened around here, she decided. It wasn't like she could be more objectionable as a teacher, and Misty wasn't her student—she was a refugee. “Let’s go take a bath together. Do you want to do that? That will help you warm up some.”

Misty shivered from head to toe, trembling like a dry autumn leaf in the breeze. "N-No—I can't—" She desperately clawed at her own skin, hands curling inward into talons. "It burns," she gasped, scratching at her arms. Cordelia took her hands and held them so she couldn't harm herself.

"Misty, it doesn't, it's just in your head." But that doesn't make it less real, Cordelia knew. Her nightmares also followed her into her life, and she couldn't fault Misty for falling backward when she was most vulnerable. "Come with me—C'mon, stand up." She tugged on Misty's arm, refusing to relent until the other woman started to rise up with her. Long arms caught around her neck. Her legs threatened to cave underneath her. "Sh…" It felt so good to be needed… to be good at something, to be helpful. She didn't get that feeling very often. Misty buried her face into the crook of her neck and sobbed a soft, broken sob, until even that subsided. She was too exhausted to cry. "Come inside," Cordelia whispered, and this time, Misty bobbed her head in some reluctant agreement. Her fear, her sadness, her fatigue had all crippled her. Cordelia wasn't the only one broken by trauma.

Misty hitched a tight breath. "Miss Cordelia…" Her voice quaked.

"It's okay, Misty," Cordelia soothed, feeling more useful than she had in weeks. "I've got you." She reached up to caress Misty's cheek.

Under her palm, she felt Misty's mouth curl, something that wanted to be a smile but didn't have the energy to become so. "I know." That was enough.

#foxxay #lily rabe #sarah paulson #cordelia goode #misty day #cordelia Foxx #raulson #my writing

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i-am-the-hero-alfred-jones · 4 years

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Fairy Tail’s Fairy Tale’s Chapter 9

((This is the final chapter of my contribution to the Fairy Tail Big Bang by @ft-ez-bb ! I hope you guys enjoy! Please like/comment/reblog/ect. if you did! I’m going to make a master list with all the chapters tomorrow))

Wendy smiled and looked in the book again, "This one is silly, it'd be perfect for Natsu!" she said. "Yeah?! Let me check it out!" Natsu looked over her shoulder, "Oh, I know this one! Igneel told me it when I was little!" he said grinning. "A dragon told you fairy tales?" Gray asked. "Yeah, what about it?" Natsu challenged. Gray shook his head, "Nothing." "Come on, Lucy! Let's do the fairy tale!" Natsu dragged her backstage.

THE PRINCESS AND THE PEA

"Once upon a time, there was a prince who wanted to find a princess- but she had to be a real princess. He met many princesses, but he was never sure if they were real, there was always something not quite right about them. And so he never married. Until one day. . ." Wendy began.

Natsu sat on a throne in a handsome suit, a crown tangled in his mess of hair. Happy sat beside him on the ground. Natsu whistled, "Sure is a nasty storm, ain't it Happy?" "Aye, sir!" The two looked to the prop door as there was a knock on it. "Who would wanna be outside in this?" Natsu asked. Happy shrugged, "I don't know. Let's go find out!" The two raced over to open the door. A sopping wet Lucy stood on the other side, courtesy of Juvia. "Woah! You look terrible!" Natsu grabbed her wrist and dragged her in.

"I'm a princess from a far off land, and I've lost my way." Lucy explained, "Can I please stay here for the night?" Natsu shrugged, "Sure. You can go dry off in the other room." "Thank you." Lucy said as she left. "Do you think she's a real princess, Natsu?!" Happy asked, eagerly. Natsu was skeptical, "I don't know. . ." We'll have to test her!" "How?" Natsu paced for a moment. "I know!" he turned to Happy, "We'll put twenty mattresses down for a bed and put one tiny pea beneath them! That'll prove she's sensitive enough to be a real princess!" "Natsu, you're a genius!" Happy praised, hugging him.

Natsu lead a nightgown-clad Lucy to the door. "Well, this is where you'll be staying tonight. Sleep well!" he skipped off. "Thank you." Lucy tried the knob. It was locked. "Uh, Natsu! You forgot to unlock the door!" she called. There was no answer. "Natsu?! . . . Prince?!" Lucy sighed, "I guess I'm sleeping on the floor tonight. . ." she grumbled, before laying down on the floor.

"The next morning, the prince was eager to see how the princess had slept." Wendy continued. A bedraggled Lucy stumbled towards a giddy Natsu. "Well, how'd ya sleep?" he asked. "Terrible!" she replied, glaring. "You passed the test!" Natsu cheered, "We can get married! You'll be queen!" Lucy stared at him, ". . . What?" "I put a pea under twenty mattresses to test you! You felt it, you passed! I'll start the wedding preparations!" Natsu dashed off eagerly. Lucy sighed and shrugged, "Why not? This kingdom won't survive if he runs it alone." she followed Natsu offstage. "The two were wed and lived happily ever after! The end!" Wendy finished.

"Wendy." Carla said gently, "It's getting late." Wendy looked towards the window to see it was already dark. "Oh. . ." "I think we have time for one more story." Carla said, pointing in the book. Wendy looked down and smiled. "Okay! But I want Chelia to be my wife!" Chelia beamed and hugged her friend, "Let's go! Lyon!" "Gray!" The ice mages stopped bickering over Juvia to glance over, then followed the girls backstage.

ALL'S WELL THAT END'S WELL

Carla began the story fondly, "I will tell you a story I heard when I was young. Each time I recall the ending it seems to get better. There are some stories, like some people, who seem to get better as they grow older."

"In a farm, lived a couple who owned almost nothing, except for an old horse. One day, they decided to sell it." Carla continued. Chelia and Wendy walked in, wearing peasant rags. "Husband-uh-wife." Chelia giggled, "Take our horse to market. Sell it or trade it. Whatever you do is fine with me." she held out a horse stuffed animal, which Wendy took and began walking in place with, while Chelia left.

"While the farmer walked," Carla continued, "She came upon a stranger walking a cow." "What a beautiful cow!" Wendy exclaimed, "She must give delicious milk! Sir? Would you like to trade your cow for my horse?" "The man agreed, and the exchange was soon made." Carla said. Wendy tossed the horse into the audience and got a cow stuffed animal in return. Wendy hummed, "Well. . . I have a cow- but I'm gonna continue to the fair to see what else I can find!" She decided, and kept walking.

"Along the way, the farmer saw a man with a sheep of a rare breed." Carla added. Wendy gasped, "Look at that splendid sheep! Oh, my wife would love that! We can take it in the house in winter! Hello, friend! Would you like to swap?" she tossed the stuffed cow into the audience and got a sheep.

"Next she came upon a man with a goose." Carla continued. "What a nice creature!" Wendy praised, "And I remember my wife saying she'd like a goose, would you like to trade, Sir?!" she threw the sheep out and caught the good stuffed animal. . . with her face. Carla gasped. "I'm okay!" Wendy assured.

"Next she came across the tax collector with a chicken." Carla said. Wendy giggled, "What a funny looking bird! Chickens are the easiest to keep. Sir! Would you like to make an exchange?" Wendy threw the goose out and caught the toy chicken- this time with her hands.

"The farmer decided to go to an inn for some food." Carla continued, "On the way, he saw a man with apple's and traded the chicken for them." Thankfully, they had decided not to throw a bag of apples at the guild's most accident prone member, and simply handed Wendy the bag. "My wife loves apples! She'll be so glad!" Wendy sat at the table onstage and Gray and Lyon approached her in fine suits.

"What have you got there, farmer?" Gray asked as he and Lyon sat down at Wendy's table. "The farmer told them the whole story." Carla explained. "Wow, you're wife's gonna be mad when you get home." Lyon said. Wendy shook her head, "No she won't. She'll be happy with whatever I bring back." Lyon leaned forward, "Really? I'll bet all the gold on me, she'll be mad." "I'll take that bet." Gray agreed. Wendy shrugged, "All I have to bet is my apples." "We'll take it." the men agreed.

"The men went home with the farmer." Carla continued. "I'm home!" Wendy smiled and hugged Chelia, "I traded the horse!" "The farmer told the story over again." Carla continued. "Really?" Chelia gasped, "I could kiss you! I love apples!" The two hugged again. Gray and Lyon laughed. "You've won the bet! Our gold is yours!" "That is how I was told the story." Carla finished, "And now you know it. All's well that end's well."

WENDY'S BIRTHDAY (CONTINUED)

The guild cheered as Wendy hopped down and closed the book. "Thank you guys for making this the best birthday ever!" "Is there anything else you would like?" Carla asked. ". . . Can I keep one of the stuffed animals?" Wendy asked hopefully. Several bodies came forward to thrust the toys into her arms, along with Jellal and Freed's unopened presents. "You can keep all of the stuffed animals." The guild waved as Wendy, Carla, Lyon, and Chelia left. "Bye!" "Have a good night!" "Happy Birthday, Wendy!" "Thank you!"

Wendy sighed in content as they left, but stopped at the end of the guild's front yard. "They didn't remember my birthday, did they?" The trio gasped and whirled to her. "How did you know?!" Carla exclaimed. Wendy smiled, "I love Fairy Tail. They're my family. . . but they're not the brightest." she admitted, "Especially Natsu." Wendy glanced back at the guild, "But even so. . ." she beamed, "They did all this for me." Wendy sniffled and wiped her eyes on her shoulder, as they were filled with tears of happiness and her arms were filled with stuffed animals and presents. "Oh, Wendy." Carla shifted human to hug her dragon slayer properly. "Thank you, Carla. I love you." "I love you too, Wendy.

THE END

#fairy tail #fairy tail anime #fairy tail manga #chelia blendy #wendy marvel #chendy #Nalu #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #fairy tale #anime #manga #carla #lyon vastia #gray fullbuster #fairy tails fairy tales

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imgilmoregirl · 6 years

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AO3 Link - FF.Net Link

Notes: This fic must be the definition of "I know you guys hate me for the slow updates". I'm so sorry it took me so long. I had a block, then things happened and it took me ages to finish this chapter, but I already have the rest of the fic sorted out, I know what I'm going to do which hopefully will make things easier for future updates to come faster. I did not abandon it in any way.

Chapter Twenty

There was always a commotion whenever visitors came to the dark castle, but usually it was a good one. Gideon and Rose had just appeared in the great hall to greet their brother and sister-in-law when they heard the screams and in a slit second their father had disappeared. They exchanged a quick glance before rushing outside the castle with Neal and Emma on their heels, unsure of what exactly could be happening.

None of them were really expecting anything by now s they had just returned home after a very unfortunate episode, but apparently life couldn’t give them a damn break. Gideon had spent hours considering different ways of telling his father about Roderick – because now that his mother knew, he couldn’t hide the facts for long anymore – however the time once more, didn’t seem to be the right one, but then it might never be.

Outside the castle, Rumplestitskin was kneeling on the floor, supporting Mrs. Potts’ body in one of his arms as she tried to stand up again. Neal immediately offered his hand to help and together, father and son pulled her back on her feet, although she still didn’t look very secure in her shaking legs. Mrs. Potts looked like she had seen a ghost, her face had gone pale and she desperately clutched at her apron, making it clear, how nervous she was.

"Papa, what is happening?" Neal asked the question everybody was obviously anticipating.

The imp looked up at him, the haunted expression in his face making Gideon’s heart skip a bit and suddenly, even before the answer left his father’s lips, he knew exactly what had happened, because there was only one person for who Rumplestiltskin would be this scared. The only person not present there, gathered with them by the castle’s gates.

"Someone took Belle," the Dark One mumbled.

Rose’s nails dig on the skin of his hand, he felt her shiver by his side. So, they were right this whole time, someone was really plotting to ruin their family.

"What?” Neal blinked. “Why?"

"Because somebody is apparently trying to test my patience but, oh, whoever did this will end this day dead."

The murderous look that overtook Rumplestiltskin’s face, replacing his fear and concern, was definitely something to worry about. They all knew him well enough to be aware of the things he would do for his loved ones and for Belle – his wife, his heart – he would kill and die. Gideon was about to start a phrase, tell him to be rational like his mother would, but he was already grabbing Emma’s arm, starting to drag her away, however the princess planted her feet on the ground, narrowing her eyebrows at him and refusing to leave.

"You're coming with me," the Dark One insisted.

"Where?"

"Wherever this freaking woman has taken my wife!"

"Wait, you can't go away like this," Neal interfered, standing between their father and his wife. "Let's take a seat a think about it."

It only served to irritate Rumple even more, but what he didn’t understand was that they were all preoccupied too, however starting a blind search only guided by anger, wasn’t going to help with anything. Gideon was pretty aware that his father’s love for his mother prevented him from thinking clearly right now and he imagined that if it was Roderick who was missing, he would act like a crazy man too, but it wasn’t so everything he could do was try to help.

"Are you mad, Baelfire?" Rumplestiltskin inquired.

"Please,” Gideon said, “it is the rational thing to do, we need to take Mrs. Potts inside first."

He knew his father was about to protest, but he didn’t quite have the time to, as Emma pulled away from him and passed an arm around Mrs. Potts shoulders, helping her inside as Neal and Rose followed them, leaving a very angry imp to snort and take his son’s lead back to their castle. This kidnapping still sounded very unclear to Gideon and, as they brought the maid to the dining hall and he summoned a glass of water for her, Gideon tried to look back to the whole last year in an attempt to understand who, would have any reasons to take his mother.

"Here, drink this," he said, offering the water to Mrs. Potts.

"Thank you."

She sat down on his mother’s reading chase and with the corner of his eyes, Gideon noticed Mr. Dove taking Chip and Colette upstairs, probably already knowing something bad was happening. His father came closer, impatiently glancing at the maid.

"Tell me more about the woman who took my wife," the imp demanded.

Mrs. Potts nodded, licking her own white lips before starting to speak.

"She was a bit taller than Lady Belle, she was older, was wearing black and had chestnut hair. She was powerful."

Rumplestiltsking sucked a breath, being the stillest he had been since this whole mess began. Even though he didn’t know what could be passing through his father’s mind, Gideon knew that it couldn’t be good.

"It can't be," the imp whispered.

"Papa?" Rose called him, nervously playing with the golden rings in her fingers.

Ignoring her, he turned back to Emma.

"You. Contact Henry now, I want answers about Wonderland and he better have them!"

"Wonderland?" Gideon inquired. "Papa, what do you mean?"

He swallowed hard, his eyes unable to focusing in any of them.

"I think Regina's mother got Belle."

Then, with a flourish of his hand, Rumplestiltskin vanished from the dining hall, leaving them to wonder if he was right or not.

Belle didn’t know how many time she spent locked in that cage with Ella before the guards appeared, but it certainly wasn’t a nice time. Her back was hurt, she couldn’t possibly find a comfortable position to seat and her bump seemed to have suddenly grown in weight, making everything more difficult. She was tired enough to have slept had she been able to take the cold and hard ground as a mattress, but unfortunately, she wasn’t, so Belle just kept staring at the stone walls, hearing Ella’s bitter murmurs about how they were going to die in there.

She couldn’t allow herself to think like that. Belle had plans. Gods, just that morning she and Rumple were talking about books and cribs, how could it all seem so distant now? She was supposed to be at home, helping him to find a way to get rid of the dagger, talking to her children, helping settle a guest room for Neal and Emma… Not here.

When the guards came, she didn’t know what exactly to expect, but she felt afraid when they broke into her prison and rudely took her out, however although Belle fought against them, she didn’t scream for help, because she knew nobody would come in her rescue, she was alone, left to save herself. They dragged her through long, infinity hallways until they reached what seemed to be a small dining hall, with a large – not as large as the one in the dark castle – wooden table in which a whole afternoon tea set was served, the woman who took her there, sat by the head of the table with a delighted smile in her red lips.

"Sit," Cora commanded.

The guards untightened the grip in Belle’s arms, pushing her against the table as if to give some emphasis to the lady’s words and she sighed, stressed, pulling a chair for herself and sliding onto it.

"I wasn't expecting any special treatment given the fact you kidnapped me,” Belle started with all the petulance she had, “but I guess tea is not that bad."

"You really think you should be using this tone with me? Do you have any idea of who am I?"

"Cora, Regina and Zelena's mother," she completed. "I've heard a lot about you."

"So, you know what I'm capable of."

Although she didn’t do it, Belle really felt like rolling her eyes at her. A long time ago, even before Gideon was born, Rumplestiltskin had told her a lot of stories about his past in an attempt to strengthen their relationship and one of those stories included Cora. He believed her to be dead by know – or at least that much he hoped as he resented that woman very, very much – but here she was as alive as one can be.

"Sure, but I'm curious," Belle said, looking straight at Cora. "Is this about the thing you had with Rumplestiltskin years ago or you're really just helping your friend to get what she wants?"

"I never do anything out of the goodness in my heart," Cora laughed, sipping her tea. There was an empty cup in front of Belle and a teapot nearby, an invitation for a drink, but she would rather die thirsty than to give Cora the chance of poisoning her with it. "I have an interest too, of course, but it has nothing to do with my past with Rumplestiltskin."

"So why me? And why Ella?"

Pulling her teacup down Cora took a moment to analyse Belle’s curious expression. She had too heard a lot about her, well, actually, Cora had done a lot of research when it come about the Dark Lady. The Queen of Hearts never thought somebody would be able to have the same effect she did in Rumplestiltskin, but she found out Belle had an even bigger one. What he had with her was a lot more than the physical attraction he had felt for Cora, their relationship wasn’t based in stolen nights, but in a deep kind of love she would never understand.

Someday, back to a distant past, Cora had believed herself in love with the imp, but after months of observation, she concluded that even if what she felt for him could one day evolve to love, it would never be reciprocal. At least, not that way. It would never be True Love. But she didn’t really care about it, she would have her happy ending once Gothel casted her curse – the same one Regina had once the chance of casting but was never able to.

"You two have a kind of fire we can't find often," Cora said. "Your daughter has it too, but it is just a tiny flame, it is not like yours. She is kind of a coward like her father."

Belle’s eyebrows narrowed.

"How do you know Rose?"

"She came to me a few months ago,” she shrugged. “I was hoping Maleficent would eat her and the boy alive, but I believe they never made it to her place."

A surprised gasp left Belle. Rose could trust her for some things, like talking about her relationship with Roland, but apparently, she still secrets of her own. Belle had no idea why her daughter would seek for someone like Cora, but she betted she had met her as a commoner in the village, not as her father’s evil old girlfriend or her boyfriend’s evil grandmother.

"How long have you been plotting this?"

"Oh, long, really long. Who do you think encouraged Agathe to get to Rumple?" Cora winked. "I must say I was hoping to kill you on my own, but as everything failed, I think Gothel's plan is the best option."

These words made a new lump appear on Belle’s throat. She been separated from her husband for so many time because of that woman?

"You helped Agathe?"

"I tried, she is too dumb to not do things right."

"I must have known…" Belle trailed off. "But why would you do all of this?"

"Because we need power and getting the Dark One's dagger is the only way I'll get it right now."

She didn’t know who “we” were, if Cora and Gothel or somebody else, but it didn’t sound good in any possible way. Belle couldn’t allow them to get anywhere near her husband’s dagger, because it wasn’t just the power who would belong to Cora and her evil friends if they got their hand’s in it, but his freedom too.

"And you thought what? That Rumple would be willing to trade the dagger for me?"

"No, I expected to weaken him," Cora said, tracing the border of her teacup. "First you, then the children and once everyone he loved was gone, he would be begging to be killed."

"This is a really stupid plan," Belle scorned.

And it really was. Of course, she couldn’t know the reasons why they were planning all this or what was their purpose, but even so, there were better ways of capturing the Dark One without harming is family. Unless you were trying to make him suffer.

"Oh, I bet you would have come up with something smarter," the Queen of Hearts rolled her eyes.

"Probably, yes," Belle shrugged, laying a protective hand on her stomach. "You have no idea what I'm capable of when it comes to my family, Cora. And if I were you, I wouldn't try to find out."

Cora’s dark eyes narrowed as they fell to her middle-section.

"Gothel will like to know about the babe. She was in need of a pure soul for her own plans."

Her jaw fell open and she stumbled up, walking as far from Cora as she could before the guards came to her side, gripping her arms painfully tight again, making her hiss and her eyes get full of tears, but she held her chin up anyway, defying that vile woman.

"Don't you dare thinking about taking my babe."

"I'll do whatever I want and whenever I wish," Cora stated, then turned to the guards, commanding. "Take her away."

"No, Cora," Belle yelled. "I swear to all of the gods that if you touch my baby I'll kill you! I will!"

Her screams echoed in the hallways until she was thrown back inside the cell.

Rose had lead them to Neal’s old chambers, the same ones in which they stayed whenever they came to visit and Emma immediately reached for the chest they had brought with clothes taking the dresses from the top of it and picking the hand mirror from inside of it. She still wasn’t sure if calling Henry back was the best option, but if she didn’t do it, Emma was afraid she would end the day as a snail, because she had never seen Rumplestiltskin so angry before.

Only a bit of magic was needed for her son to appear in the mirror, wearing a big red shawl around his shoulders, apparently sat against a tree. He looked really tired, which broke her heart a bit.

"Henry!"

"Mom," he looked up with a small smile. "It is nice to see you, but I'm afraid I can't talk for long."

"No, listen,” she begged. “Your grandfather might have a clue about Ella!"

It wasn’t exactly a clue and she knew it very well, but it could be as Gideon had quickly explained for them, his clever brain working as fast as waterfall, while the rest of them were merely trying to process the whole situation.

"What?" Henry asked, surely not convinced of that.

"Henry you need to come back home," Neal interfered, taking the mirror from Emma’s hand so he was in sight. "That might be the only way you have to find your wife."

"But he is not sure if this clue will take me to Ella, right?"

"Nothing is sure now, Henry," Emma answered. "But Lucy misses you."

It made him reconsider everything. His eyes became sad and all she could see was the little boy he once was and not the man in the other side of the mirror. He wanted to go back home but he feared if he did he would never see the love of his life again.

"I miss her too,” Henry admitted. “Every single day."

"Then come back," Neal insisted.

There was a moment of hesitation, but then, maybe his weariness or his eagerness to meet his daughter again, made Henry nod and they could see that he was picking his things up from the ground with a determination that not even his most faithful letters contained.

"I'll be there in two days."

"We are at the dark castle waiting for you," Emma guaranteed.

With a last smile, Henry disappeared, being replaced by their reflex.

#rumbelle #rumbelle fic #mine #writing #gidrick #rumplestiltskin #belle french #gideon gold #baelfire #neal cassidy #roseland #ao3 #fanfic #oh look i'm back

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str-spangled-banner · 7 years

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Thunder Struck - Bucky X Reader

TAKING REQUESTS

MASTERLIST

Request: I can’t fucking put the request in wtf? I can’t even write it from scratch myself what is this madness.

Warnings: Thunder (I mean??)

Words: 1 846

A/N: My phone literally won’t allow me to paste the request in nor did it let me manually type the exact request into where I wanted it (?????) but I strayed slightly off on this one. The request was kinda that the reader and Bucky are roommates and haven’t really talked to one another and then there’s a storm and Bucky cuddles with the reader and reader lulls him to sleep by stroking his hair.

I didn’t find it very believable for Bucky as a character to do that so I decided to change it up, both in plot and relationship with reader. Sorry if it’s not what you wanted but I hope it suffices!

She opened the door to the balcony connected to her room at the Tower. The sky was dark and the air was still but thunder broke the tranquility, ripping through the air. She loved every second of it. Another bolt of lightning crashed down from the skies and a smile crept up to her lips. God, she really loved it.

Just before the thunder rolled in, she heard three knocks on her bedroom door from inside. “Come in!” She yelled through her room, wondering who’d want to talk to her at eleven at night when she had told everyone she was going to bed.

The door opened up and she glanced over her shoulder to find Bucky to her surprise. “Bucky? Is everything alright?” He looked distressed.

He watched her stand out on the balcony in cotton shorts and a tank top, prepared for bed taking a moment to enjoy the terrifying storm that was approaching. He lost his words as he saw her stand out there with such confidence.

“You look pale.” She stated and took a step towards the balcony doors in worry. Bucky managed to snap out of his transfixed state and swallowed his fear down for the moment.

“I- I was just wondering if you could keep me company.” He blurted out, flipping the coin around and surprising her. She furrowed her brows as to get more of an explanation from him. He sighed, giving in. “I hate thunderstorms.”

She smiled, but not in a mocking way, not at all. She smiled warmly, a hint of pity mixed with adoration. “Oh, you big, old child.” She chuckled and took a step further inside to be able to grab his arm and pull him out on the balcony. His body tensed but he followed her out nevertheless and stood by her side by the balcony railing.

The lightning struck again and she felt Bucky flinch as she had let her hand remain on his arm. His hands gripped the railing harder and he shivered as the thunder came, jaw tightening.

“Since when are you afraid of thunder?” She questioned as she had never heard of the fear before.

“I’m not scared.” He defended quickly. She sighed, smiling again.

“Okay, since when do you dislike the thunder so much?” She rephrased her sentence and looked up at him as his eyes remained glued on the horizon, waiting for the next bolt of lightning.

“Since the summer when I was nine and a thunderstorm took out the electricity in our house.” He confessed and flinched once again as the lightning struck.

“I didn’t know you had electricity when you were little.” She teased and got him to glare at her, happy that her change of subject had distracted him from the thunder he feared so much.

“I’m old, not ancient.” He pointed out and watched her hand as she poked at his upper arm, loving how quick he was to defend himself constantly whenever she pointed something out about him. She would have thought a man of his nature would be more tolerant.

“Well then, old man, let’s talk about something to distract you from the-” The rumbling thunder cut her off and Bucky let out an audible yelp. “Oh you poor thing.”

She rubbed her hand across his back and he rolled his eyes, pulling away from her and slowly backing through the balcony doors that stood wide open. “I’m not a child.”

Her eyes widened. “Well, you sure as hell act like one.” She chuckled again and followed Bucky inside, shutting the doors behind her. He paced around her room and took in the details he had never paid much mind to before. He looked at all the personal items, the collection of drawings she had done herself stuck to the floor to ceiling window before her desk. He noticed the photograph of her on the day of her graduation at the same school he knew Peter attended. Her room was a gold mine of memorabilia compared to his. He barely had a single pen that wasn’t branded by Stark Industries.

“I’m guessing you can’t fall asleep with the thunder around?” She said and paced over to her bed, moving the sheets away so she could crawl under them. She sat down and pulled them over her lap as she sat with her legs crossed by her pillow.

Bucky shook his head no, squeezing his eyes shut during the time it took for another wave of thunder to come in.

“Why don’t you try?” She suggested and he shook his head again.

“I already know I can’t.”

“No, I mean, why don’t you try here?” She looked up at him and watched him look down at her questioningly. She held her hand on the other side of her king sized bed that she never slept on.

“Sleep, with you? Oh god. I mean… Sleep in the same bed as you sleep in. Sleeping beside you, next to where you’re sleeping-”

“Geez!” She laughed loudly, cutting him off. “I’m not worried that we’ll sleep together, Bucky. I’m just saying that you should try and sleep in my bed instead. Having a change of where you sleep and sleeping beside someone can help.”

His cheeks were deep red and she snickered quietly to herself as she had left him stunned and at a loss of words.

“I- Yeah, sure…” He agreed and watched carefully as she got under the covers and moved to lay her head on the pillow.

“Come over here then, oldie. I’m tired and I can’t fall asleep with you pacing around in here.” She patted the mattress next to her and he moved over to the bed. He was wearing cotton shorts that reached his knees and a t-shirt which she guessed was what he slept in anyway, so he could just fall back and get some shuteye.

He hesitantly crawled under the covers and made sure to keep to his side of the bed, cheeks still red. “Why is it so warm in here?” He said after a few moments of silence. She looked over her shoulder as she had rolled around to face away from him.

“I don’t know. It’s your super soldier, body heat or something.” She guessed and shut her eyes again, feeling her body become heavier and heavier.

“Can- Can I take my shirt off?” He asked carefully, his voice quiet.

“That was the dumbest question I’ve ever heard.” She admitted and moved to lay on her back so that she could look at him. “First of all, you’re just removing a shirt. That’s all you’re doing. Secondly, if you think it’s too hot then you should be allowed to undress a little, don’t you think?”

He tilted his head back and forth a few times before nodding subtly. It did sound like a dumb question when she put it like that.

Without letting the covers go further down than his belly button, he pulled his shirt over his head. His metal arm buzzed quietly and he huffed as he had to tug at he fabric a bit, but eventually he got it off and dropped it on the floor next to the bed.

“There you go, you hunk. God, when did you get so ripped?” She asked casually, obliviously staring at his toned stomach that peaked from under the covers. Shyly, he pulled the grey covers up to his armpit and folded his hands over his chest. “Sharing is caring, ya know?” She teased and nudged her elbow into his side.

She loved Bucky. He was always so kind and she had been able to tell that his fear for the thunder had been the real deal, and she would not let him be scared through the entire storm that would most likely last through the night. She had multiple times been told that her cheerful personality was her best trait, she she decided to put it to good use. It seemed to work as she managed to distract Bucky enough to barely notice the thunder and lightning outside.

“You’re insane.” She schooled his head and looked up at the ceiling, unable to prevent the smile that came after.

“A little maybe, but how boring would I be if I was sane? You’d have no Y/N dragging you out of this god forsaken Tower for adventures every now and then.” She looked over at him again.

“Adventures?” He questioned. “You mean like when you want company down to the grocery store to buy food at four in the morning?”

“Exactly!” She exclaimed and rolled around to face him completely, placing her elbow on the pillow and leaning her head against her hand.

“Those are no adventures.” He objected and shook his head.

“It’s what you make of it, Barnes. You gotta have a little spirit.” She smiled as she was only making fun of herself in the end for justifying her so-called adventures.

“How come you are always so happy?” He completely threw her off guard. He wasn’t sure if he had even meant to ask the question out loud. It just sort of slipped.

“Well, I think that’s just who I am. Tony’s confident beyond compare, you’re an old fart and I’m happy. That’s just me.” She laughed and watched as Bucky rolled his eyes.

She noticed how her eyelids involuntarily began to blink at a slower pace, her vision becoming slightly blurry. Bucky did too, without her even realizing that he was watching her fall asleep right in front of him.

Her head began to lean forward as it was still resting in her hand until her limb gave out and she fell forward, crashing into Bucky’s chest. His body froze as she laid atop his bare skin, a long sigh leaving her lips. The thunder rolled in once her breathing became heavy and he knew she was asleep. Her mission to distract him from the storm had been successful but once again he flinched every time the lightning flashed its light into Y/N'a bedroom and the thunder shook the walls.

As she fell deeper into her slumber, her body was unaware that the object she leaned upon was in fact Bucky. With another sigh she turned in her sleep and raised her hand and wrapped it around Bucky like he was her stuffed animal.

He slowly began to relax at her touch as he realized she wouldn’t wake up and see how they were holding on another.

He let his left hand wrap around from behind her shoulder and to her upper arm whilst his metal one moved a few strands of hair away from her face before settling above her arm on his stomach.

His head fell back as another lightning bolt lit up the room. He didn’t flinch that time as he didn’t want to wake up Y/N. She looked so peaceful in her sleep. She looked as if she felt safe with him, and how could that feeling not be passed on to him?

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readerwinterbarnes · 7 years

Text

Motionless-15/21

Bucky x Reader, OC’s, Avengers

Summary: Bucky makes his choice and knows that it was the right one in the end, Y/N would be let go and be free. Until he finds out how very wrong he was.

Word Count: 4,177

Warnings: major character injuries, forced masturbation, non-consensual groping, minor character death, drugging, manipulation, MASSIVE feels, um…….plot twist??

A/N: Look who decided how many parts are left!! Yeah, if you hate Albern before, you’re gonna hate him now. This also has switching POV’s

*throws fic at you all, then runs and hides* Next part will be worth it I promise!!!!

Bucky’s POV

The last twenty-three hours have passed like a blur. I haven’t slept, too busy trying to figure out what the fuck I was going to do. So I hit the bag. I beat the crap out of it. Wishing it was Albern instead. Every one good thing I had, just had to be ripped away from me. After all this time, Hydra still had their hold on me. No matter what I did or where I went, Hydra was always lurking over my shoulder, waiting for the most opportune moment to strike. That’s how the others found me. I was on my fifth bag when Steve told me to stop.

“Bucky, it’s time.” I nod, having already countdown the last sixty minutes.

“Mr. Barnes,” FRIDAY spoke, “he’s on video, I am unable to trace where the call is being made.” Figures he’d do that, not that I’m surprised. I unwrap my hand, Bruce was going to be pissed since I used my injured hand, but it didn’t matter, with the serum and all.

“Put him on FRIDAY, might as well get this over with.” Steve stood beside me, offering me a supporting smile, but I could see right through it. He was just as scared and angry as I was. The screen on the wall flicked on, showing us the same room we saw before. Albern already sitting there, drinking tea out of fucking China. I forced myself not to roll my eyes. I wouldn’t make this situation any lighter.

“Please tell me you mistook rat poison as sugar,” Tony exclaimed off to the side, Steve glared at him. Albern set down his cup and smiled.

“On the contrary, Mr. Stark, the only rat I can see is you. So if you have any care for Y/N’s safety and wellbeing, I would advise you to keep your mouth shut.” Tony’s mouth formed a thin line, even took a few steps back. That’s how much of a dick Albern was. Yeah, I knew Tony was an annoying piece of shit, but I never ridiculed him that way. After all, he’s done for me, I’d never do that to him.

“Now, if there are no more rude interruptions, let’s get straight to the point. What have you decided, Sergeant Barnes?” He focuses in on me, forgetting everyone else in the room. They all looked to me, all eager to know what I've decided. Considering I haven’t talked to anyone about this. Not even Steve.

I looked over to my best friend. “I’m with you ‘til the end of the line, punk.”

“Buck, no.” I face Albern expressionless, still holding onto whatever I had left. Refusing for him to still take everything. Even though he was going to anyways.

“You can have Winter back and...and I’ll help you get a kid.” The smile and the way his eyes gleamed made me want to throw up. From the team’s outbursts, they clearly weren’t too pleased with my choice. I knew they wouldn’t, but this meant Y/N would go free, hurt, but free. In the end, it was a much better choice than knowing that she’d be Alberns baby carrier until she died. No, that I couldn’t live with.

“Bucky, you can't be serious!” Steve pulled my back towards where the rest of them stood.

“It’s not like I was given a better choice, Steve!” I said, yanking my arm back, “You know this is the better choice! Yes, it means I have to go through all that bullshit I went through before. But I can’t live with the fact that she’d have to stay with him for the rest of her fucking life. I’d rather let her have a chance to live than die there!” I willed myself to take deep breaths. I needed to keep my shit together. I couldn’t break now, not ever.

“Bucky, she’d have to have a child,” Nat spoke to me. I whirled around and faced her. “I know! I FUCKING know that, Nat!” I ran my hands through my hair in frustration. “I’d rather it be one kid, then her giving birth to ten for that sick bastard.”

Nat gently grabbed my face and kissed my forehead in an attempt to calm me. Knowing I very much needed it. “I know James, I know.” I breathed in, offering her a weak smile, kissing her forehead in return before I looked over to Steve, who was trying his best not to blow up right there.

“Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone, alright Stevie? Or I’ll come back and hunt your ass.” His head dropped as he smiled, then looked back at me.

“I’ll make sure to hit you extra hard then.” I smiled, then turned back to Albern, making my emotions as hard as a rock once again.

“Just promise me, Y/N gets to go. No questions asked.”

“I assure you, Sergeant Barnes, once Y/N provides me a child, I will release her. Now, go to this location in no less than two hours, I know you’ll get there in plenty of time. A contact that has no ties to me has been asked anonymously, to meet you. You Americans will do anything for money these days.” He was standing and stared sternly through the screen. “Though I must warn you if your team decides to have you followed, either by them or agents, I will have no choice but to take action. By ending their life.” He squares his shoulders and stepped back, as a muffled sound came into the room. A young man, no older than twenty-five was dragged in. He was wearing a SHIELDS uniform….oh god. The man’s eyes widened as he saw us.

“Mr. Stark! Captain Rogers! I’m sorry, they came out of nowhere-” a burly mad punched the younger man.

“Tsk tsk Bane, you know I like to hear them beg.” He faced us again.

“Now please,” he whipped out a pistol from its holster and shot the younger man right between the eyes, “if you break the rules, I’ll be sending you the remainder of Miss Y/N’s fingers.” Bane dragged the body from the room as Albern re-holstered the pistol. “Two hours, Sergeant Barnes. I suggest you make haste.” The screen cut out and we were left standing there, knowing full well he meant business and would make sure I went alone.

“Steve?” We looked over at a pale-faced Clint. “I know - I knew that agent. His name was Trevor. Steve, I just had lunch with him a few days ago. He was taken right under our noses.” Nat nodded in agreement.

“I hate to say this, but Bucky needs to go alone, Rogers. If Albern’s able to prevent FRIDAY from finding him and take a SHIELD agent, then he won’t hesitate to harm Y/N if we disregard his warning.”

“Who does this fucker think he is?! Sick bastard.”

“The sick bastard that currently has Y/N,” I answer Tony, grabbing my bag and making my way to leave the gym.

“Bucky?”

“Steve, I have no more than two hours to get ready and meet whatever contact he paid to meet me. I’m sorry Stevie, but we can’t take the time to talk about this.” I headed towards my room and was out of the building in less than ten minutes.

At said location…….

Albern was fucking smart, having the contact meet me in the open, out in the public. Where there were plenty of witnesses. I was sitting on a park bench, where I was told to be. It’s been an hour and a half and still nothing. The sun was out, so families and their kids were all running around and enjoying the warm weather.

“Dad!” My attention turned to….holy shit...a young boy who couldn’t be no older than five, was running towards me. But that’s not what got me. He had the same brown hair as I did and he had Y/N’s eyes. What the fuck is going on?

“Dad,” the boy grabbed my hands, pulling me to stand, “can we get ice cream? Mom said it was okay if it was okay with you.”

“Y-Yeah, sure, if mom said it was fine with her.”

“Yay!” We made our way towards the ice cream truck. We waited in line, as a mother and her own child stood beside us.

“Your son is so cute. He looks just like you too. I bet you and your wife adore him.”

“Yeah, yeah we do. I think he looks more like his mother though.” What the fuck?! I’m having a conversation about a kid who’s not even mine! We were next, so we ordered and made our way over to the lake, closest to the parking lot. Sitting on a bench to enjoy the frozen treats. The humidity began to spike as we got up and walked towards the parking lot. A family ban pulled up just as my vision began to way.

“Mom’s here, dad, we’re going to make pizza!” I was helped into the van as a man handed the boy a manila envelope and a new toy truck.

“Thanks, kid, now go back to your mother, okay? She’s right over there, and make sure she gets the package.” I barely managed to see the kid not and rush back to wherever his mother was. Then the van was moving.

“We got him, no one noticed anything….no, he was alone…..yes, sir.” The man called up to the front of the van. “Call back the team after five.” Then he looked down at me, slapping my face lightly, but his face was all one big blur.

“Yeah, he’ll be out cold very soon. Cuff him, and then blindfold him. We have a plane to catch.” Drugged, I was drugged by fucking ice-cream. Why couldn’t it be a fucking doughnut? A blindfold was wrapped around my eyes, ‘course it didn’t matter because I was already gone.

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

“Wake up!” Metal on metal echoed through the small room. I groaned and rolled over, so I was sitting up on the bare mattress. Four armed guards stood outside the cell door, behind an old man in a lab coat. Albern and the man from the video, Bane, walked in soon after.

“Ah, you’re awake. How was the trip, Sergeant Barnes? Good, I hope.” I leaned against the wall, not bothering to stand up and formally greet the prick.

“Using a kid to do your dirty work, Albern? Really? Didn’t think Hydra went this low. Let alone desperate.”

“I thought it would be fitting, to have a boy who strikes a very close resemblance to you and Y/N. Knowing that that could be what your children could look like. Not that it really matters anyways. If you could please behave and do what the good doctor tells you, then Y/N will not be harmed. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must go attend to my other guest.”

The guards unlocked and opened the door, while Band and Albern left as the doctor walked in, holding a plastic cup. “Fill this up to the blue line please.” He handed me the cup.

“You serious? You want me to jack off?”

“Fill the cup up with your jizz, soldier. The faster you do, the better off you’ll be.” He gave me a crooked smile as he looked me up and down, “Or we can find someone to do it for you.” Sick, perverted bastards. When they weren’t showing any signs of leaving, I knew they had to make sure I did this. Might as well get this over with.

So I turned around - a man needed some privacy - took out my limp cock and got started. Thankfully I had plenty of memories of rolling around the sheets with Y/N that it didn’t take long to fill the cup up to the thin blue line. Tucking myself back into my pants, making sure I was presentable, I handed the doctor the cup.

“There, happy?”

“Much.” With that, the doctor left as the guards walked in and cuffed me so I wouldn’t try anything, then locked me back in. I just hoped Y/N was okay and that I could see her soon.

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

Y/N’s POV

You were wheeled into the crisp, clean white room and lifted onto the bed. You’ve still been processing the fact that you were pregnant. Pregnant with a child, Bucky’s child. Oh god….he doesn’t know, and now he never will.

So you did what you were told. You ate the food they gave you, let them wash you, poke and prod you. You had no other choice but to obey, the only injuries they ever gave you, were knife and burn marks to your arms and legs. Or a hard slap to the face. But those were few, they knew the life you were carrying could not, under any circumstances be harmed, or they would suffer the consequences. Not wanting to put your child through anything, you only spoke when spoken to and shut everything else out. The only thing that mattered the most, was making sure you both stayed alive. Even though that meant Albern was always in the fucking picture.

A doctor walked in, followed by, of course, the beady-eyed man himself and his henchman. “Ah Y/N, nice to see you so radiant this morning. How are you both doing?” The doctor lifted up your shirt to your chest, as the ultrasound monitor warmed up. It took all your willpower not to scratch his eyes out when he leaned down and kissed your abdomen, whispering words to your baby. Then he kissed his way up your stomach, then your forehead then proceeded to hold your hand as the doctor proceeded to spread the petroleum jelly on your stomach, then rolled the wand over where your child was located.

“And how are they fairing, doctor?”

“Both children and mother are healthy.” Children? What? No, no, no, that meant he gets two children. He gets both of your children.

“W-What?” It was the first time you spoke all day.

“Yes, Miss Y/N, according to the scan, you will have a healthy boy and girl.” The doctor responded, wiping off the jelly, then proceeded to pull down your shirt.

“H-How c-how? It’s too early to tell!” Albern squeezed your hand, as he ran a hand through your hair.

“Technology is a wonderful thing, my dear, especially when you can enhance it.” He lifted up a plastic cup, what seemed to be filled with some kind of cloudy liquid.

“We have perfected the serum, Miss Y/N and with the enhanced technology, we will be able to fertilize your eggs with the strongest volunteer out there.” He said as he handed the doctor the cup, who put it with some vials that were labeled with your name.

“W-What? What do you mean my eggs?”

“You’ve been a willing volunteer, my dear, of course, you were out of it at the time. But now I have both and soon we’ll be able to, let’s say, grow our own. With this new serum, my brother and I created, the future children of Hydra will be stronger than ever.”

“You sick bastard! You cruel, sick perverted son of a bitch!” You slapped him across the face, sending his glasses to go flying. With a calm demeanor, he slowly picked up his glasses, adjusted his suit and then he pounced. His hand was in your hair yanking it backwards as the other wrapped around your throat.

“The twins will be the first. They will be the strongest and will be trained by the best assassin we had the pleasure of having.” Your eyes widened as Albern spoke, gripping onto the hand that was slowly tightening its grip.

“No, no, he-h-he can’t.”

“Oh, but he has, fraulein. The Winter Soldier is coming back and he will be their leader….and the father.” He leaned closer, preventing you from pulling away as he kissed your ear, before whispering, “Hail Hydra.”

He pulled away and began to walk out. “Congratulations Y/N, you will be the proud mother of the new generation of Hydra. You should be proud.” You watched as he left the room, you couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t do anything. Placing your hands above the precious lives growing inside you, you broke down. You screamed into the empty room as fresh hot tears rolled down your face. All you wanted to do was go home and curl up beside Bucky and hide. Just hide. So you screamed his name, screamed for anyone to help you get out of this hell hole of a nightmare. No one came to hold you, to dry your tears. No one came to comfort you. You were all alone. Until someone came in with a syringe, so they could shut you up and transport you back to your holding cell. Trapped inside four white walls, watching as they turned to black.

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

Bucky’s POV

I had no idea what the hell they were planning. It wasn’t much longer until I was tossed a pair of black boxers, ordered to strip and change. It wasn’t the first time I was clothed in just minimal clothing, definitely wouldn’t be the last either apparently. I was then dragged to a room where I was put through several tests. My endurance through harsh temperatures, how fast I healed from knife to bullet wounds. Which hurt like a motherfucker. How fast and how long I could run. Doctors took my blood, observed each test and took readings. I had no idea how long I’ve been at this, punching the bag in front of me, but the gears in my arm began to wear down, getting locked in a couple of places. With one more hard hit, the bag flew off the chain and burst on the floor just as Albern and Bane walked in.

“Hello, Sergeant Barnes,” he greeted me with a smile as he was handed the test observations, his eyes told me he was shocked and pleased with each one. Why though, I had no fucking clue.

“I think we’re ready for the final stage, doctor.” Next thing I knew, my legs were kicked out from under me and I was being held down as my hands were brought behind my back and locked into place. Then something pricked into my neck.

“Sorry about this, Sergeant Barnes, but we’re going to need you completely compliant and somewhat lucid. Wouldn’t want you to miss out on your upgrade, now would we?” I was dragged out of the room stumbling on my feet as we traveled down the hallway.

I was pretty positive they were talking about bringing me to the chair, so I’d be a completely clean slate once again. I knew it was going to hurt, but I was doing this for Y/N. I needed to do this for her. We went through a door, the number of guards increased. We were definitely not going to the chair, as I saw a surgical table and multiple doctors. There were monitors, lights, and equipment everywhere. Definitely not the chair. Memories from before, when Zola tore me apart and gave me the arm came flooding back.

“No, no, n-no, please…” I tried to struggle, get away from them, but whatever they drugged me with was so strong I was completely helpless.

“Don’t worry, Sergeant Barnes. We’ll try to make it more painful than before. Doctor, let’s begin, I don’t want to waste any more time.”

“Yes, sir. Please lay him down on the table and heavily sedate him. We need him somewhat lucid in order for the new serum to take full effect.” What? New what?

“N-New…?” Two burly men lifted me up and strapped me to the table after uncuffing me. A new needled was pricked into my skin, except this one was hooked into my arm. Then a gas mask was placed over my nose and mouth as Albern stood over me.

“Dr. Zola did an amazing job for us, but he didn’t have the technology we have now. So we made some improvements. Feel free to scream if you need to Sergeant Barnes, if you can, that is. Begin doctor.”

The doctor nodded. “Begin the serum injection and start the recording.” My right arm began to tingle, going numb. That’s when the pain started.

It felt as if a fire was being pumped into me. It burned everywhere. I tried to scream, about the gas I was breathing prevented even me from doing that. A different sound from my left caught my attention. I looked over to see two doctors huddled around my left arm, speaking and nodding at each other. They dislodged the arm from its socket and placed it onto a nearby table. After a few more minutes of discussion, they nodded one last time and looked at me as if they were a child receiving their first Christmas present.

What they did next was what made me scream. I could feel the sharp objects, knives dig into my skin, tearing away the ligaments as they cut me open. Along with the pain from the new serum flooding through my veins. I was wasn’t allowed to pass out. All I could do was lie there helpless once again as they tore through me. Tears rolled down my face as I cried out for Y/N, for Steve, Tony, Sam, anybody to help me. I thought of Y/N as the hours dragged by, until they knocked me out completely so they could finish. I just wished they killed me instead.

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

Three days later…..

A beeping sound to my right woke me up out of the heavy haze I was in. My whole body felt...different. Like there was a constant buzzing sensation running through me. Oh yeah, I was pumped up with drugs and a new serum. That’s all I knew. Then I remembered my arm, I was hit with flashbacks I didn’t want to remember. I didn’t want to look at what they did, but I did anyways because I needed to know what they did to it.

Cautiously I looked over, I was not expecting to see what I saw. My whole upper torso was covered in thick white gauze, covering the area where metal met skin. But it was the metal itself that got me. No longer did I have a silver arm, but now it was black. It was all black. What the hell did they do? As if right on cue, Albern walked in with the same doctors as before.

“I see you’ve been admiring your new arm, Sergeant Barnes. Do you like it?”

“W-What the hell did y-you do to me Albern?”

“I knew you’d like it. You should recognize it, as it is similar to the same metal Black Panther uses. Of course, this metal is much, much stronger. Meet Vibranium’s sister alloy, Vibrantium. Very, very rare and very difficult to find. Harder than black vibranium. And of course, you know about the serum. It’s much more enhanced than the first. It has the same aspects as before but makes you much stronger. This will be what we give to the others when they come of age, and any volunteers that it.” The doctors checked over the monitors, jotting down notes and took me off the IV drip, the gas mask long gone already.

“I think it’s time we began testing, do you not agree, doctor?”

The man eagerly agreed. “Yes, I am quite eager to see how advanced our soldier now is.” The smile Albern gave me was not pleasant like the one’s he’s given me before. This one showed me he had won and was now going to make sure I was going to feel it. I already knew what was coming next and I was fucking terrified.

This was it, this is where I was going to spend the rest of my life as Bucky Barnes before I came the thing I never wanted to be….again. “Y/N, I love you so much. I hope you’ll be able to forgive me.” I whispered quietly under my breath as more tears rolled down my face, as I was wheeled out of the room.

“Please don’t forget about me.”

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