#but she was either going to die having Always Been Alone or hit this shot

[kozzax]

thinking about that one shot in [s] jade: enter where shes holding the gun and shes blindfolded and shes trying desperately to shoot the pinata so she doesnt die. and about how every time i see that shot i remember that shes thirteen. theyre all thirteen. theyre kids. they were kids. she was under threat of death and terrified and alone and theyre all just... kids.

#me vibing #homestuck #jade harley #i just. i think about how scared and young she looks #and about how she knew that the fate of literally everything rested on her hitting this pinata blindfolded #and about how she probably wasnt even thinking about that in the moment. because more pressingly she knew she was going to die #and shes always been alone. shes used to being alone. #but she was either going to die having Always Been Alone or hit this shot #and she was thirteen. she was Thirteen. #she was a child. #i just. aurgh.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

The Ranger (Part 1)

Summary: The reader is trying to enjoy her vacation in the rainy forest in her cozy cabin when an unexpected heat comes on. But things turn dangerous fast and she needs the help of a local forest ranger to get out of it. But she wasn't expecting his help to include claiming her and being her true mate. Because something isn't right and her Alpha is keeping something from her...

Masterlist

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!reader

Word Count: 5,300ish

Warnings: language, life threatening medical situation, angst

A/N: Please enjoy this first part!

_______

This was not an ideal situation. You’d finally done it and taken that solo vacation in the mountains. A cozy cabin in a retreat from the world. The trees had turned already and were bare but the damp, cloudy rainy day would have been perfect to curl up by the wood fireplace and get through that stack of books you’d been meaning to.

Except your heat, your heat that’d always been on schedule since you’d started having them, was three fucking weeks early. You didn’t have any medicine besides a few pain killers meant for headaches, not dangerous cramps, and the cabin only had basics meant for allergies or a cold. You needed heat suppressants soon if you didn’t want to go into a full heat. 

Which again, wasn’t an ideal situation since you didn’t have a flippin’ mate.

You could have tried to trek back to civilization through the winding dirt road but it’d taken two hours on the way in. Two hours of intense cramps? No way were you making that drive.

“Shit,” you said, walking slowly to the service room on the lower floor of the cabin where a radio at a table sat. Because of course you wanted to vacation somewhere without people, that meant no cell service either.

A rumble of cramps passed through you, warmth flaring your insides. You gritted your teeth and grabbed the radio, turning the frequency to the ranger station listed on the sheet on the table for emergencies.

“Hello, uh, forest service? I need help,” you said, closing your eyes as pain radiated up your spine. You frowned for a moment, the radio crackling. “Hello? I-”

“This is station 327, Ranger Winchester. What’s the emergency?” asked a strong, serious voice. You bit your bottom lip as you imagined he was an Alpha, your core quivering at the idea of getting a knot. “Mam? Please respond.”

“M-My heat’s early. It’s real bad and I have no medication. I-I’m in the Vrbo cabin off route 37, Mount Dusk I think it was called. I-”

“This line is for true emergencies. Your heat being a few days early and you being an unprepared Omega is not-”

“Listen asshole,” you snarled, gasping when your stomach threatened to curl in on itself. “It’s three fucking weeks early which everyone knows isn’t normal. I need a fucking heat kit, a strong one, or a fucking knot now and since I’m out here alone, all I got is your ass. So get me my shit and-FUCK!”

You dropped the radio as you bent over, falling to your knees. Something was wrong. Heat’s didn’t come on this fast, not even when you scented your true mate.

You could hear noise through the radio but your head was thrumming, your body grateful for the cold wood floor below you. It wasn’t possible to die from a heat, was it? If you let the fever go you supposed but it took days and days for that to happen and you’d only felt crappy for an hour. Yeah, you’d be just fine. This guy would bring you medicine and you’d be fine.

Right?

You blinked open your eyes when you heard glass break. Crap, you’d passed out for who knew how long. The overwhelming scent of Alpha hit you and despite the pain, you shot upright, staring at the man in the wet raincoat as he reached his hand through the broken pane and undid the lock. He froze when he saw you, his own scent shifting subtly. A hint of fear under the surface.

“Jesus,” he mumbled, raking his eyes over your sweat drenched body. He took off his backpack, pulling out a white box and a bottle of water, cautiously setting them on the ground and sliding them over to you.

“I look that bad, huh?” you said, ripping open the box and finding the medicine you needed, knocking it back with a swig of water. 

“You’re in heat and I don’t want to be accused of doing shit I didn’t,” he said. You narrowed your eyes, hand fisting in your own shirt over your stomach. That shouldn’t have been happening still. Heat medication worked instantly. “What’s-”

You fell over again, clutching your abdomen, head spinning, body going haywire at his scent.

“Please,” you whispered, finding his hard eyes. “I’ll give you whatever you want. I-I need you to-”

“I can’t.” A wracked sob slipped past your lips as something in your broke, pain flooding every single cell. You just needed a knot and it would be bearable. He muttered to himself and quickly you were in strong arms, your own wrapping around him shakily. “I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“I’ll pay you,” you whispered, hating how that sounded but he simply carried you out in the pouring rain, the cold air helping your skin not feel so hot.

“I’m on Novi-Alpha. If I knotted you,, you’d fucking die so I’m sorry but I can’t help you like that even if I wanted to.”

“I’m gonna die from this fucking fever anyways!” you shouted as he opened the backdoor of a rugged looking jeep. 

“One’s a chance, one’s a guarantee,” he said, setting you down, your arms still clinging to him. He eyed you, forcibly grabbing your wrists and pulling them away. “You will not die, understand me? Now let me get you to a hospital.”

You reached for him but he moved away too quickly, closing the door. He ducked into the cabin to retrieve his bag before he was behind the wheel.

“Honey Dusk Hospital is aware you’re in a dangerous heat,” he said, turning the jeep around and driving down the dirt road, way faster than you had.

“Don’t kill me in a fucking car accident on the way,” you groaned, squeezing your eyes shut.

“This vehicle is meant for these roads, unlike your car. We’ll be on route 37 in thirty minutes, at the hospital in forty five.” You threw your head back, his musky scent filling the small space. 

“Distract me,” you breathed out. “Fuck you smell so good. If you weren’t on Novi-Alpha, I’d climb you like a fucking tree.”

“Whoa lady. Calm down-”

“Don’t lady me. We’re like the same fucking age.”

“You say fucking a lot, you realize.”

“You have your insides tearing apart and tell me you wouldn’t be cursing-” You shouted, bracing yourself against the door panel, feeling him step on the gas harder. “What the fuck is happening to me?”

“...I have an idea,” he said quietly. You flashed open your eyes, looking at his incredible scruff covered jawline, his gaze focused on the bumpy, wet road ahead. 

“What? Are you a doctor? Are-”

“No. I only know my basic medical training.” He frowned, rounding a tight corner. “It’s probably not a heat and you’re just sick.”

“I know what a heat feels like thank you very much.” You shivered violently, the ranger sighing. “What’s your name?”

“Dean Winchester. Try to rest. We’ll be there soon.”

The ranger’s suggestion to rest had, shockingly, not worked. By the time you were speeding down this small town’s streets, you were shaking so hard you literally couldn’t stop. Dean had reached back more than once as he drove with a handheld thermometer, muttering a few f-bombs to himself.

At least he wasn’t the one with a hundred and five temperature. A hundred and five and a half to be exact. You were pretty sure your heat was about to boil the fuck out of you and kill you within the next hour.

Dean said something but you didn’t hear him over your screaming. The next thing you knew he was ripping open the door and running inside a hospital with you in his arms, nearly tripping into a stretcher where a team was waiting.

“She’s fucking dying,” he said as he set you down, the team of doctors and nurses rushing you into a side room.

“You said this heat came on suddenly?” he asked Dean, someone sticking a thermometer in your ear.

“106. She’s too hot,” called out the nurse, the doctor near Dean rushing over, the team suddenly pushing you out of the room and down the hall. You were shoved through a pair of double doors into a bathroom, a silver high walled tub in the corner. 

“I got her,” said Dean, lifting you up and plunging you into an icy cold bath. You screamed as it burned your fiery skin, his hands on your shoulders forcing you to stay inside. “Look at me. Look at me.”

You couldn’t get the words out, taking in his green emerald eyes for the first time. His scent was still all around you, pine trees and vanilla beans, a cozy campfire and aged whiskey, fresh tobacco and soft linen. Your brain went fuzzy, blood pumping in your ears, thrumming in time with your heart. Was it getting slower? Your eyes were getting heavier, that was for sure. 

But he smelled so pretty, so…homey. Rugged. Yours.

“We’re losing her!” someone shouted, just as one last image of his concerned face crossed your mind.

You felt strangely…blissed out when you woke. Satisfied, like you were after being on the receiving end of a knot but also relaxed and floaty, like when you finished a heat. It wasn’t exactly a problem your heat had passed but you remembered a whole lot of pain and a high fever which wasn’t normal. 

So what the fuck had happened?

You stretched in bed and sat up, a doctor in a white coat stepping into the room with a smile.

“Y/N! Glad to see you awake. It’s been a few hours. How are you feeling?” he asked, gently taking your wrist and checking your pulse. 

“Uh, pretty good actually. I take it my heat’s gone?” He hummed, raising your arm up, feeling under your armpit.

“Yes. There’s not many cases a year but some Omegas do unfortunately have a negative reaction.” The doctor put two fingers to your bonding gland on your neck, your eyes narrowing. Why would he be feeling that? 

“What are you doing?” you asked as he pulled them back, glancing at a monitor. 

“Just checking your bond is healing.” You stared at him, the doctor glancing down with a sigh. “You don’t remember, do you? What happened before you passed out in the tub?”

“I remember being dumped in ice cold water and a whole lot of people shouting but that’s it.” 

“You didn’t pass out immediately. We determined while you were on the way here that your heat was triggered by the fact you came into contact with your true mate. Ordinarily, you would have picked up on this yourselves but your Alpha is on medication that has strong side effects. Namely, he was only vaguely aware of who you were through scent but there was no desire to mate as would be the norm. For you, unfortunately there is no recognition on a level that you’re aware of. You understandably would not know you went into heat early because of your true mate.”

You reached a hand up to your bonding gland, wide eyed when you felt…something. You flew out of bed, the doctor trying to stop you but you were quickly in the small bathroom, staring in the mirror.

“What the fuck is that!” you shouted. On your neck was a fresh, pink, bite mark. Someone had fucking claimed you. You angrily spun around, the doctor holding up his hands. “What kind of hospital is this! I’m suing the fuck out of you and this whole place!”

You caught a whiff of something…delectable, an Alpha’s scent somewhere close by. It calmed you, ever so briefly, the doctor sighing. 

“The man that brought you in-”

“The ranger guy.”

“Yes he…well he…there’s no easy way to say this. He is your true mate. Ordinarily we would have used medication to mimic your true mate’s scent but seeing as he was there…when he was told he would be able to claim…” he said as you stalked out, eye twitching. “We were losing you and receiving a claim bite from your true mate was the fastest way to bring your fever down. In emergency situations, true mates are allowed to make medical choice for you if you’re unable-”

“He wasn’t my mate then,” you growled.

“Physically, no but on a metaphysical level, yes. Frankly, the health of my patient, you, is all I care about. We’d like to observe you a few more hours before discharging.” You crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes.

“So my heat is magically gone and some random dude hanging out in the hall is now my Alpha?” 

“That’s the more blunt way of putting it. We’ll send home medication to suppress your urges to mate physically. Your Alpha will be unable to knot you until he has completed his Novi-Alpha prescription.” 

“And when will that be?” you asked, tilting your head. The doctor frowned. “When?”

“...You don’t know what Novi-Alpha is prescribed for, do you. That is a discussion for you and your Alpha.” You wanted to argue but he lifted his chin. “Please let me finish my examination and determine if your heat had any consequences.”

Three hours later they finally let you leave, a white baggie in hand that held a bottle of pills you were to take once a week for the foreseeable future. There were well over a hundred inside which made you more than queasy.

What the fuck was Novi-Alpha and why did a guy that looked more than healthy need to be on it?

You frowned when you stepped outside under the covered front entrance, the ranger standing from where he sat on a bench. 

“Hey,” he said quietly. “How are you feeling?” 

“I didn’t give you permission to claim me.” His scent shifted, an edge to it you didn’t like. He narrowed his eyes, a frown growing on his otherwise handsome face. “Oh, don’t you start on that we’re true mates shit. You didn’t ask for my consent.”

“Excuse me but you were the one begging for it,” he quipped back. He took a few steps away like he was heading for the sidewalk, suddenly turning on a dime and getting in your face. He breathed heavily, clenching his jaw. “You don’t feel…this and I get that it’s my fault. I barely feel it myself. And I frankly don’t care about your consent. My mate was five minutes away from death.”

“Oh, I did not sign up for some toxic asshole,” you said, shaking your head. You took a step, Dean grabbing your wrist. He looked ready to snarl, lip curling up. 

“True mates are never, ever bad mates. Stop hating me for saving you.”

“I don’t even fucking know you. This whole situation is your damn fault in the first place.” He twitched his eye, yanking on your arm so you stepped forward. “Get off, ass-”

“I am your Alpha and I’m taking you home,” he said, tugging you along after him, your feet cold on the wet ground, socks already soaked through. 

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” you growled. Dean whipped around and in a second, you were tossed over his shoulder. “Dean! Put me down!”

“You’ll wear yourself out if you don’t calm down.” You growled, punching his back twice. You raised your fist again but felt dizzy, your hands instead gripping him tightly. “Did you listen to the doctors at all? You need to take it easy.”

“Just take me to my cabin,” you grumbled. He didn’t speak again, only grunted once when he opened the passenger door of his truck to slide you inside. You were too tired to deal with this crap. You’d go back to the cabin, sleep for a solid twelve hours and figure out this mate crap tomorrow. 

The roads were unfamiliar as Dean drove in silence, winding and twisting as he drove away from town and off a small road. It was a gravel road unlike the one to your cabin but you perked up when you saw a cabin in a small clearing after only a few minutes. 

“Uh, that’s not my cabin,” you said. Dean put the truck in park, turning it off. “I was out on Mount-”

“This is my house…our house,” he mumbled the last part. You shook your head at him, Dean rolling his eyes. “You need rest, not to sit in a car for hours. I’ll get your shit from that rental and bring it here. We’ll figure out the rest of your crap from wherever you’re from later.”

“Excuse me? We’re mates, as much as that appalls me. We make decisions like where to live together. I have a job, a life-”

“We live here. End of discussion,” he growled. His scent was raw, twitchy. There was no room for arguing. You were ready to fight back but you forced yourself to calm down. He was your true mate and as much as you hated to admit it, he had a point. True mates were never bad to one another. He wouldn’t harm you but good god was this guy protective. 

You frowned when he held up a finger to you and got out. He threw up his hood, rain coming down harder. In a flash he was at your door, picking you up bridal style and rushing you over to a covered porch. He set you down to unlock the door, flipping a light switch before he stepped back. You walked past him, surprised to find the cabin quite spacious and modern.

He disappeared behind you, returning with your white paper bag, now wet. His boots were removed and you peeled off your soaked through socks, following him slowly as he went to the open kitchen area on the right. The bag was set down, Dean moving to his fridge and taking a few things out.

It was open concept, kitchen on the right, living room on the left, a dining table in the front by the windows. There was a hallway in the back and one off the kitchen, probably leading to bedrooms and a garage. A large fireplace was nestled in the corner of the living room and you saw Dean cross into your vision, going to it to toss in a few logs. 

Honestly, it was nicer than your rental had been.

Once he had a fire going, he turned back to where you stood on the front rug, water dripping off of you. His lips pressed into a thin line, looking you up and down not like an Alpha would his Omega. No, he was being very clear. 

You were the stray that’d followed him home he hadn’t wanted. 

“I don’t have to be here,” you said when he approached, staring up at his dark eyes. “This isn’t normal. We’re supposed to be all over each other and clearly we’re not. We-”

“There’s a stew going on the stove. It’ll be ready in an hour. Just leave it alone.” He put a hand on the small of your back, walking you down to the back hall, motioning you to the last door on the left. He flipped on a light, cascading you into a cozy bedroom with soft white bedding and a dark green flannel blanket on top. 

He cleared his throat and went to a closet, pulling out a few pieces including a t shirt, hoodie, sweatpants and pair of boxer briefs. 

“You should warm up in the shower. Bathroom is right there. The laundry room is on the other side of the house, near the kitchen and garage. It’s coming down harder so it’ll take me a few hours to get to the rental and back here. You should-”

“Take it easy. Yeah, I got that.” He nodded, pausing at the bedroom door with his back to you. 

“If it’s any consolation, I’m sorry this happened to you. You don’t deserve it.” You quirked your eyebrow up.

“You’re my Alpha. We’re soulmates. I guess this is supposed to happen.” He was still, the air thick. “I…listen I know I was…I wish I’d been aware of what I’d been saying but…”

He smelled tense, his hand in a tight fist by his side. What the fuck was up with this guy?

“Whether we like it or not, we’re mates,” you said gently. “When you get off that medicine, it’ll feel different-”

“I can never get off it and I can never knot you. You’ll never feel a damn thing for me.” Then he was gone, tearing down the hall and out the front door before you could even move. 

An unpleasant shiver ran down your spine that he was right. 

Your feet moved on autopilot to the bathroom, stripping out of the wet clothes and standing in front of the nicely tiled shower. In seconds you were under hot water, cascading down your back, through your hair. Fingers reached up to your neck, rubbing over your bond.

There were no sparks or flurry in your veins. You were supposed to be able to feel Dean, feel your connection, feel his soul.

But there was nothing. All you felt was empty.

You couldn’t feel the other part of your soul and he blamed himself.

“Fuck that,” you said, quickly finishing and getting dressed in the clothes aside from the sweatpants that were too long.

You found his computer in one of the spare bedrooms, stealing it along with a notepad and pen. Out in the kitchen, you settled into a seat at the island and drew a line down the middle of the pad. One side for information about Dean, the other Novi-Alpha.

With a quick stretch, you cracked open the laptop and got to work.

Three Hours Later

It was dark by the time headlights flashed through the front windows. The computer said it was just after six thirty and you knew you were about thirty seconds away from an argument. Ah, what a wonderful way to spend your first night with your Alpha.

Out of view you heard the door leading from the garage to the house crack open, wet boots against the tile in the mudroom. 

“I’m back!” he called from around the corner. “We’ll unpack your stuff tomorrow. How was…”

Your eyes darted over to the hallway he exited from, his socked feet padding his footfalls on the woode floors that covered the rest of the house. He stared at where you had his laptop, a charger plugged into the side of the island, a stack of papers next to you, your notepad, pen, three different highlighters and a cup of coffee.

“Are…are you working?” He asked, face souring. “You should be resting. I thought you were here on vacation anyways.”

“I am and this isn’t work related.” He narrowed his eyes, not saying anything as he went to the sink on the other side of the island to wash up. 

“Did you eat yet?” You shook your head, typing some more. A heavy sigh left him. He went to a cabinet, pulling out two large bowls. “You really should have eaten something. You nearly died this morning. Your school project can wait.”

“I’m not in college,” you said, jotting down a few more notes before you saved what you’d been working on and signed out of your account. You closed the screen, watching water trail down from his wet hair and soaking his shirt collar. “Why are you wet?”

“Because there’s a thunderstorm outside. It rains here most days,” he said dryly, giving you a side glare as he walked the two bowls of stew over to the kitchen table. You cocked your head at him as you got up, Dean quickly retrieving utensils. “What?”

“You parked in the garage just now and my cabin was far enough away that you’d be dry. Where’d you stop on the way back?” He slammed the drawer shut, eye twitching. “Strike a nerve?”

“I asked you to do one thing. One thing. Rest. And y-you’re writing a research paper or some crap? Sit down and eat your damn dinner.” You would have told him off but truth be told, you were starving a bit. You took your bowl and moved it to the seat across from his, Dean angrily setting down a spoon. A few moments later, a large glass of water was in front of you and he had a bottle of beer on his placemat. Dean sat with a loud thud, shoveling a large spoonful of food into his mouth.

“Why are you wet?” you asked again, crossing your arms. 

“Why does it matter? Fucking eat.” You leaned back, Dean dropping his spoon in the bowl. “Really? This is how it’s gonna be? I’ve been nothing but nice-”

“If this is you nice then I’d hate to see you mean.” You raised your chin, picking up the spoon. “I’ve always heard alpha’s protective instincts are unmatched. You can barely feel whatever this bond is and you’re so worked up-”

“I almost watched you die today.” You closed your eyes and sighed. A small noise made you open your eyes, Dean sliding a small white box over to you. You frowned, lips parting when you saw the newest iPhone inside. “I got you a phone on the account your other one was in your pocket when you took your artic dip. I rushed to the store before they closed. That is why I’m wet. I’d never want you to feel like you’re trapped here, especially when you can’t feel our ‘whatever bond.’”

“Thank you,” you said quietly. You ate in silence, the only sounds coming from the rain on the roof, the clanking of spoons and the quiet thrum of a soft rock station in the living room.

He seemed…stressed. Maybe you should wait for the morning to bring up what you’d found.

But you didn’t get the chance when he picked up and glanced at your notepad. Green eyes scanned over the pages before he gathered up everything you’d been working on.

And tossed it straight into the fireplace.

“Hey!” you shouted, rushing over as he stopped you in your tracks. He leered down, eyes dark. “That was-”

“You will delete everything you saved on that computer. Now.”

“You can’t-” He gripped your arm tight, so hard he was shaking it.

“Do it or I will make your life hell.” He released you, spinning you around towards the computer. You didn’t believe he’d hurt you. True mates were incapable of it. But you didn’t want to tempt him anymore than you already had.

Ten minutes later, your backup was gone and after a through examination by Dean, he took the computer and tossed it into the fireplace as well.

“I know you have questions,” he said quietly, back to you as the flames danced around the melting device. “I never should have gone hiking this morning. You caught my scent in the wind and-”

“Why would you go hiking in the pouring rain? It was raining this morning too. I had my coffee under the covered porch but it was coming down like bullets. No one would be out there willingly.” He turned and faced you, eyes roaming over your body, stuck on how his boxer briefs molded to your legs.

“In another life, we could have been happy. I would have given you everything you asked for. But not this one. I will keep you safe but that is all we are. We don’t get our happy ever after until we’re both dead.”

You swallowed, stepping into the living room, stopping a few feet away. “You hurt my arm just now.”

“I know,” he said, closing his eyes. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again as long as you don’t do stupid things.”

You were getting angry again, Dean holding up his hands. “Stupid shit like try to know my new Alpha who just left me all alone? Sorry for trying to look up your damn social media. Asshole.”

Dean dropped his hands and went back to the fireplace, poking the computer with a poker, shaking his head.

“The more in the dark you are-”

“I’m a corporate forensic analyst, Dean,” you said, Dean’s shoulders stiffening. “Those notes on the computer? In that pad? Those articles? You can burn them all but it’s in my head. I don’t need the internet anymore to figure out what’s going on.”

“And what does your analysis tell you?” he grit out.

“Novi-Alpha is a cancer medication specifically for Alphas. But you don’t have it and never have. So why would an otherwise healthy Alpha take it? Well, it apparently has other uses that the public doesn’t know about…if you’re willing to live with the side effects. Side effects like knotting becoming a deadly activity to the person on the receiving end. The inability to feel your mate. Scent changes. And my personal favorite, if taken without the binding agent that’s given for cancer treatment, it changes your DNA coding without changing your DNA. Apparently law enforcement doesn’t want that news to get out there because it’s a bitch to catch people if they find out they can change their DNA on tests.”

You grabbed his arm and made him face you, a loud crack of thunder echoing in the room. Dean breathed calmly, eyes finding yours.

“Why are you taking medicine to change your DNA?”

“Because I did something bad, Y/N.” He got closer, pressing his chest to yours, forcing you to tilt your head. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

Fingers brushed over your cheek, thumb swiping over the curve of it slowly. “Because your true mate is a monster. And once you know the truth, you’ll want to run away…and I don’t think I’m strong enough to let you go.”

The air was thick with his scent, dark yet pleasant. Painful even. You leaned into his touch, Dean’s green eyes widening ever so slightly.

“Novi-Alpha prevents Omegas from feeling their true mate. But I know you feel me.” You closed your eyes, breathing him in. “You have to tell me the truth eventually.”

“No I don’t,” he whispered. 

“You’ll tell me,” you said, opening your eyes, Dean’s hand sliding down to your mark. “Because I’m in danger if you don’t.”

He shook his head, pulling away from you. “Don’t pull that crap, Y/N. You’re safer not knowing.”

“Right. That’s why you burned everything just now.” He looked up, like someone else would magically tell him what to do. “You need to protect me. It’s your job. So you have to tell me the truth, Alpha. You have to.”

He laughed quietly, running a hand through his damp hair. “Using my title to get what you want. Manipulative. Maybe you were meant for me.”

“Dean-”

“The Ranger.” You raised your eyebrows at him, Dean wandering to the dark window.

“Uh, what? This is because you’re a forest ranger?” He laughed again, crossing his arms.

“No. I do that because…it’s a pretty isolated job. Small town work.” He looked to his right, a sad smile on his face. “The Ranger. That was my name when I had a different job.”

“That’s not a name…” you said, Dean shrugging. “What’d you do when you were The Ranger?”

He smirked, meeting your curious gaze. “Have you ever killed anyone?” 

He slowly stalked back to you, tilting his head. He leaned in close, glancing at your lips. “N-No, can’t say I have.”

“Ever kill an animal?”

“I hit a squirrel with my car once. I cried all night for that.” Dean rested his forehead against yours, his scent rolling off of him in powerful waves. “D-Do you hunt animals?”

“No.” He brushed his lips to the shell of your ear, his pulse strangely calm. “Now people, that’s a different story.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 2 here!

#dean x reader #spn #supernatural #dean winchester x reader #dean x #dean x you #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfic #dean winchester fanfic #abo #alpha!Dean x omega!reader

[first-edition]

Love

Mafia boss!Bucky x singer!reader

Sum- you and Bucky had been together for 3 years before he left, he had even put a ring on your finger. You never knew why he left but it broke you to peices. When you finally forgave him you were shot and dying in his arms.

Cw- hospital, doctor talk, guns, kissing heavy petting, smut, shower sex, unprotected, pinv sex, fingering, recovery, size kink (if you squint)

Part 1 ‘lyrics’

Part 2 ‘letter’

This is part 3

Flashing lights of red and blue shoot through the the city. The screeching of tires as Bucky followed close behind the ambulance. He just got you back he knew this would happen but regardless he needs you.

“FUCK! Fuck fuck fuck!” He curses hitting the steering wheel of the car as he speeds through stops signs and lights. Screeching into the hospital parking lot he parks and rushes out of the car just barley missing you on the stretcher as they rush you to the back.

“Baby!!?” He calls running after you. A nurse sitting on the bed if you giving you cpr.

“BABY!”

“Sir.” A nurse says holding Bucky back.

“NO FUCK- GET OFF ME!” He yells.

“Sir Calm down!”

“NO DONT FUCKING TELL ME CALM DOWN DONT-“

“Mr Barnes! Sir!” Rumlow walks to him pushing him back.

“Your covers In blood sir are you hurt anywhere?” The nurse asks.

“No. No I’m fine just- she can’t die okay I can’t-…..she…fuck.” Bucky turns away.

“The waiting room is down the hall to your left I’ll go find some clothes for you.” She kindly directs him and rumlow before walking off.

———

“Bucky sits in the waiting room sam and rumlow on either side of him. He’s changed into a black tshirt and jeans the blood washed off.

“Mr Barnes?” A doctor calls he stands up faster than ever the guards following.

“Is she okay?” He asks

“She’s stable but needs to be closely monitored she lost a lot of blood and flat lined…” the doctor trails off.

“Well?” He says

“The bullet has hit a blood vessel causing damage to her internal organs on the lower half of her body…including cutting off blood flow to the uterus. We…we had to perform and emergency hysterectomy….if at all you and her were planning..” She says

Bucky looks at the doctor taking in all of the things she had just said.

“Can I see her?” He asks. She nods gestures to follow which he does.

“She’s on high pain meds and should be waking up soon” she says.

Following the doctor down the hall his mind rushes about what he’s going to tell you when you wake up. Did you know? We’re you planning to tell him at some point?

Arriving at the room he sees you asleep in the bed an oxygen mask on your nose and mouth.

“No. Wait out here I don’t want anyone except me and that doctor coming in or out so you understand me.” Bucky says hardly to the guards they nod taking place on either side of the door.

Bucky walks up to you sitting next to you taking your hand your pale and a bit cold. Despite the heated blanket you have.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I never should’ve dragged you into my fucked up life. I-I never should’ve left you alone. I promise that I will stay by yourself forever and always.” He says kissing your hand resting it against his cheek.

Your fingers move as he sits up straight leaning to you.

“Hey doll?” He says your eyes open weakly as they adjust to the light in the bright pale room.

You frown as tour eyes focus.

“Baby.” He says look to him. Bucky smiles seeing you looking at him.

He lets out a pained sigh kissing your hand thanking whatever deity that your alive.

“Bucky…..” you say weakly.

“I’m here I’m right here.” He says holding you Mr hand to his face.

“Hey baby…I-I gotta tell you something.” He says. You look up at him frowning a bit.

“When you got shot you lost a lot of blood. Remember on the beach in pairs..you were talking about having kinds mm?” He says. You nod looking up at him as he shakes his head.

“Wh-..what..” you say weakly.

“Its okay.” He says tears well up in your eyes as you understand what he’s trying to telling you. You begin to cry as he pulls you into his arms.

———

You stand in front of the bedrooms floor length mirror, nude. You finger tracing over the scar left on your lower abdomen. Its long and ugly. You sigh turning away going to the shower Turing it on and letting the water heat up to steam. The entire bathroom coating the glass and mirror is a fog.

Opening the door you step in feelign the water warmth you body.

Its been 4 months since you were shot. Bucky has barley left your side. They found the person who did it and Bucky, “brought him to Justice” which you know means he killed him. Put a bullet through his skull like he did with the first man who tried you in a club some many nights ago when you first met.

The healing was easily but the depression from not being able to go out was another thing. Bucky helped with bringing the outside to you as much as he could even starting a plant garden of the roof of the penthouse.

Lost in your thoughts you dont notice your husband has opened the door and stepped into the shower with you. His hands, both cold one colder than the other, make contact with waist pulling you gently against his front.

You inhale smiling as you realize.

“You’re home.” You say turning around wrapping your arms around his neck pulling him into you in a kiss. He kisses you back but with a pained expression pulls away. His hands still holding you on your waist.

“Whats wrong?” you ask looking him.

“I was just thinking.” He says trailing off.

“Mm?” You ask

“It shouldn’t worry you hmm.” He says pecking your lips.

“Turn ‘round.” He says. You obey and turn to his command. He snakes his arms around your waist you stiffen a bit as his skin makes sudden contact with the scar drawing your front.

“I love you. You know that right?” He asks.

“Yes.” You say giggling at your own response to not saying it back one of buckys pet peeves.

“Hmm? what was that.” He says

“I said yes, i know you love me.” You say, giggling.

“Mmhmm and what else.” He says.

“I dont know what you mean?” You act dumb he chuckles. Lifting your chin to him kissing you. Whats supposed to be a short peck turns into a make out.

he walks you back. Your back hitting the cold wall of the tile making you gasp giving him perfect leeway into your mouth with his tounge.

His flesh hand moves up your side to your breast his thumb brushing over the hardened bud. The minute you’d realized he was in the shower with you, clothed or nude to which he is in fact just a naked as you are, it turned you on deeply.

A small moan is left from your mouth as bucky squeezes your breast in his hand. His metal once easily finds your core brushing his fingers up and down the slit.

“F-fuck..” you gasp out inserting a thick digit he chuckles into your neck at you reaction. Pumping his finger and rubbing you with his thumb gives you almost everything you need.

He wraps his arm around you and picks you up pinning you against the wall taking the opportunity to shove a second finger into you making your mouth drop open as he thrusts his fingers to you brushing the upwards to the spot in you his thumb plays with your clit.

You clench around his fingers feeling the knot in your stomach. He pulls his fingers out of you. Before you can complain about the absence of pleausre you feel the familiar stretch in your cunt of bucky’s cock.

Your mouth drops open once again as he thrusts up into you his metal hand against the tile behind you and his flesh hand grips your waist.

“F-fuck..i missed you.” He says kissing your jaw line and neck.

You smile moaning out as the overwhelming pleausre surges through you. Clenching down around him the knot he made from his fingers explodes as you cum against him.

Your walls flutter as he continues to fuck you. He picks you up your legs wrapping around his waist allowing him to fuck you deeper in the position you are.

“B-buck..ah!” You moan out your arms around him your fingers gripping his hair and skin.

“Such a pretty girl.” He grunts. Making you almost fold to his will.

“F-f..fu..im gonna c-cum again..ah” your voice breaks as he recklessly thrusts into you.

He pants his thrusts getting sloppier as you feel his throb in you.

“You gonna cum for me doll. Hmm?” He asks his lips attaching to your neck. With a rough thrust up into you cum clenching around him. He releases his own orgasam chasing it with deep movements in you filling you.

You cling to him your nails making marks to his shoulders and back as you pant.

“L-look at me.” He says his blue eyes taking you in you look at him.

“I love you..you’re perfect, you’re everything to me I will never leave you. Ever.” He says placing his hands against your cheek. You smile nodding your nose brushing against his before sharing a kiss.

THE END.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #sebastian stan x you #x reader #bucky x reader fluff #bucky x female reader #sebastian stan x reader #james buchanan barnes #bucky smut #bucky barnes #winter soldier #james bucky barnes #Bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky x reader smut #marvel smut #mafia bucky x reader #Smut

[sapphic-woes]

Since I've been playing Apex nonstop....Sevika as a legend anyone? (Imma avoid the lore cuz I have yet to sit down and learn it fully yet;;)

Apex!Sevika x Reader

I'm thinking Sevika is an assault legend, probably uses her arm for special damage close range and rolls her ultimate with smth heavy. (Like Bangalore)

One the other hand, I think you would be either support, or a controller. Maybe even recon.

Anyways. I'm thinking this isn't your first rodeo. You've been apart of the Apex games way before Sevika shows up. You might look sweet, but you've had your fair share of kills.

But Sevika acts like she's a goddamn hotshot. She hits you with a sneer and chiding words to "aim next time." And even takes the time to pat you head when you're knocked down before finishing the job. (Ok look I dunno abt the lore but let's say in this au it rlly is like the game and you can revive and turn into a box when u die alright...)

So of course, in return you make sure she knows just how smug you are when you win against her. You don't get why Sevika always teases in the first place, but you sure as hell aren't letting her get away with it.

Slowly, everyone comes to know that you both have a sorta rivalry going on. Whenever anyone even mentions spotting Sevika, you're immediately dead set on knocking her down, and it's the exact same with her.

However. The fans notice too, and immediately the public see you both as the perfect set up for enemies to lovers.

You adore your fans, and always want to keep them entertained...but even you have a limit. However, this was a bloodsport, and entertainment came before your pride.

So that's how you find yourself landing on the edge of the map, doing duos with Sevika.

God. It's painful. She takes the shields you call dibs on, the guns from supply bins you open first, even the fucking knockdown shields you stumble upon!

Sevika ignores every time you suggest a location to check out, engages with the enemy without a plan, let alone a warning, and hardly ever acts like a team player. Yet?

"If you're going to be a fucking idiot and die, do it when you're on someone else's squad!" You hiss, dragging Sevika's body behind cover to revive her.

"Ugh, shit–the fucker has like, three hits left on him I swear–"

"And so do I. While he's trying to find us, think it's best to recharge ye?" You tsk, ignoring Sevika's near pout on her face and grumble that you could definitely still kill him. You played smart–played to win, but Sevika?

Honestly? You guessed this was more for the adrenaline rush than anything.

You pull out a syringe with a huff, bloody hands moving to undo her buttons Sevika raises an eyebrow, but youre immune to her subtle flirting, knowing damn well she just wants to get under your skin.

The skin just above her breasts is warm. Her chest heaves, pressing against the pads of your fingers. This close, you're breathing in her scent of gunpowder and cigarettes. Sevika grunts quickly, and her breath is hot against your ear. You nod, feeling her entire body brace before you stabbed her with the syringe. She grimaces, and you tsk, hauling her to her feet.

"Get knocked down on me again, and I'll fucking kill you." Sevika only quirks her dark lips up, and you can't help but think it's unfair. She looks breathtaking despite the mud, blood, and gunpowder covering her head to toe.

"Aw, you worried babe?" What did she just call me? Your cheeks burn at the petname, and you nearly follow through with your threat, pulling out your gun and aiming it at her.

"Huh? Wait! Y/n, are you seri–!"

However, rather than shoot her point blank you shot three times behind her. Your opponent falls to the ground, and you tilt your head in mild surprise as Sevika lets out a shaky breath.

"Huh. So it really was three."

"Well yeah, you said–wait...you were just guessing? You could have gotten us both killed!"

After that, you guys learn that you work, somehow. You get a lot more wins than when either of you are paired with someone else, and eventually you both only like teaming up together. You for the wins, and Sevika because to get a win, there's guaranteed heavy action.

However, as the malice between you two fades, the teasing becomes less superficial, the flirting has a dangerous edge to it all, and every time you come to Sevika's rescue....

Her eyes on you as you press the syringe into her exposed chest, mutter "c'mon, c'mon..." with worry are burning. They're hot as she watches you guard the door as she patches up, hungry as you down enemies easily before letting her know that was the last of the squad....and you didn't even break a sweat wiping them out yourself.

She thinks it's hot. To put it simply.

So one day. One random day of running from the ring, shooting down enemies and getting shot yourself, she goes for it.

"God Sev. How the fuck did you think you could take on three other teams like that? Why couldn't you just wait for me?" You grumble, slamming a door closed before promptly straddling the larger woman.

"Some legend you are, immediately getting gunned down." You speak as you undo her top, letting her rich, tantalizing skin be exposed to you. You glance at her face to see her eyes on you, calmly focusing in a way that infuriates you.

"God, what now? Are you even listening to me–"

"Nope. Not at all." That's it. You immediately stab her with the syringe, smirking when Sevika winces. Her body is a furnace under your legs as you lean forward to snarl.

"You're a fucking piece of shit you know that? I swear to God, I don't even know why I bother saving your ass–!" Lips stop your words mid sentence, and you gasp as Sevika suddenly leans forward to kiss you. Her hand snakes around to the back of your neck, holding you steady and she presses deeper.

Your body tingles, and your fingers holding the syringe tremble. You can't let go, she needs to heal...but she's going to kill you like this! Her metal arm is wrapping around your waist, trailing down your spine and coaxing out a whine from you. Sevika's lips curl into a smile against your own, and she hums with satisfaction.

Why is she doing this? You'd pay to know, shuddering as her teeth pull at your bottom lip when she finally lets you breathe. You huff, scarlet as a now-healed-Sevika eyes her handiwork. Your lips feel sensitive and warm, so you can only imagine how they look–kiss bruised and inviting her to do more.

"Why..." Sharply, a gunshot whizzes past your head, and both of you freeze before scrambling up onto your feet.

"How about we talk about this after we make sure not to die?"

"Definitely."

#sevika x reader #sevika x you #arcane sevika #sevika headcanon #arcane x reader #arcane headcanon #apex legends #apex au

[xxxangeleyesxxx]

Trigger Warning - Blood and Action Violence

Beautiful Crime

Curled up in the bathtub, with the shower curtain covering her shivering body, Nina cried. The blood from the bullet wound on her stomach drenched the fabric of the curtain and one of her favorite dresses. She screamed when another bullet came flying through the wall and hit a blue tile above her. She hoped that the metal and concrete of the bathtub would be enough to save her from another shot. Was this Dad coming to save her? Or was this a rival gang? Either way, she was terrified. She was probably going to die all alone in this bathroom. A causality of war.

—————————————————————————

When the men who brought her here had first put the bag over her head and stuffed her into the car, Nina had struggled and panicked at first. It was a natural human reaction. But, like she had always been taught to do, Nina calmed down as quickly as she could and listened to her surroundings. She gaged the time she had been in the car to equate about 40 minutes and had listened to the voices around her. She recognized several. They were Goedelitz and The Baby’s men. She was probably being trafficked. Even though the knowledge of this was horrifying, Nina remained calm. Dad would probably find out she was missing in no time, and come to get her as soon as possible.

What she had not expected when she had arrived at the location however, was to be treated like an esteemed guest. Goedelitz and The Baby themselves had come to greet her, with a gourmet dinner nonetheless. Nina didn’t touch it, she wasn’t hungry, didn’t trust that it wasn’t doused with something, and any appetite she might have had left her when she watched the man across from her eat his meal. The way the “professor” slobbered all over himself while he bit into and slurped up the fruit made Nina feel more ill than she already had.

They told her then that they had found out that she, the sweet little bartender and cocktail waitress who worked at that underground bar, was actually gathering intel for the Bonaparte family. And not just that, instead of killing her had opted to hold her hostage to put her father in a corner. They had somehow figured out Nina’s relationship with Franz Bonaparte, her cover was completely and irreparably blown. Even if she did survive this mess she wouldn’t be able to do work out in the open anymore, she wondered if Dad would even let her outside by herself after this.

“Once my father realizes where I am, he will come! And when he comes he will make each and every single one of you wish you were never born!” Nina got up from her chair and slammed her hands on the table, tired of all of this fake politeness.

The two men across the table just chuckled at Nina like she was a naive child. Goedelitz cut into one of his pears and popped the piece into his mouth, the juice slipped out of his lips. Nina shivered in pure disgust. “Oh believe me, we fully intend for him to come. Once he realizes you’re here no force on earth could keep him away.” He looked behind her at his bodyguard and nodded his head, signaling her to be “escorted” out of the room.

And so she ended up in here. A small bedroom with a queen-sized bed and a bathroom connected. Nina hid in the bathroom, because if someone came to get her at least the other door opening would serve as a warning. She checked to make sure her spare revolver was secure in its place on her garter. She turned off the safety.

There was a weird sound coming from the sink. A strange tapping sound. Nina cautiously approached.

“Help me.” A woman’s voice said, it was light and accented. Nina looked around the bathroom and ever so slightly peered outside into the main room, but couldn’t find the source.

“Help me…” It was coming from the sink. Nina put her hair behind her ear and tuned in. “Please help me!”

“Where are you?” She was probably being trafficked, the thought made Nina’s heart quicken and her blood run cold.

“The third floor.” If Nina’s calculations were correct, she was currently on the second floor. She looked above her. “Please get me out of here! I have a baby boy, he’s too young to live without me!”

“They are holding me here too,” Nina admitted. “We have to work together. What’s your name?”

“Ayse.” The voice answered. Nina thought it was a pretty name. “We have to get out of here soon. I heard them talking, they are expecting to have a shoot-out!”

“A shoot-out?” It made sense, this was a rival mafia, and a lot of people had a vendetta against her father. This location could just be here solely to serve for his execution, and by extension hers. She had to remain calm however, her father had raised her to do such. “Ok Ayse, listen to me, here is what I need you to do. Go into the bathtub and make sure to cover your head.” Ayse immediately understood what Nina was getting at based on her quick agreement. Nina whispered into the sink the next part, being just loud enough for Ayse to hear. “I have a gun, if the shoot-out happens, we will both wait until it’s almost over, and I’ll grab you so we can both get out of here.”

Ayse let out a massive breath, Nina could even hear it through the pipes. “Thank you, a lot of bad things have been happening to me lately. You’re the first good person I’ve met. Are we friends?”

Nina smiled for the first time in what felt like an eternity but was probably only half a day. She felt the same way about Ayse. “Yes. We are friends.” Nina wanted to give her a hug, goodness knows they both needed one. Feeling a bit bolder Nina asked a little more loudly. “What’s your boy’s name Ayse?”

Before Nina could get her answer, a bullet flew past her head.

——————————————————————————

Over the course of what was probably only about 20 minutes, but felt like a few hours, Nina lay there. Stuck in that sterile paper-white bathtub, watching so much of her blood leave her body. She was beginning to feel faint and a type of fear she never thought she would feel. This wasn’t the type of fear you get when you are on a rollercoaster or the fear you felt as a child hiding under the covers from imaginary threats. This was the fear of the inevitable. She was afraid of how tired she was getting, if she fell asleep she didn’t know if she’d wake up. She hoped, at the very least, that Ayse was ok.

The screams and the sounds of bullets ricocheting off of the walls had died down considerably, so Nina could listen to quieter sounds. One of which was the door to the bedroom opening, and immediately thereafter the knob to the bathroom being fidgeted with. She shakily held up the gun, her vision was blurry. After a moment, the person on the other side had enough and just shot the damn thing off of its hinges. They opened the door. Nina lowered her gun.

Thankfully, he wasn’t one of Goedelitz's men, but he also wasn’t one of her father’s either. She recognized him. He was the handsome blond man with pasty skin and an often aloof face that frequented the bar she gained intel from. She never got his name or any of the other men he usually associated with. It simply was not her job. She was there to keep an eye on bigger competitors, not whoever he was.

She breathed shallowly. “I’ll shoot.” She couldn’t yell even if she tried. “I-if you come any c-closer, I’ll shoot.” He came closer anyway. Nina couldn’t read his expression. She tried to pull the trigger, but her own blood made it slippery and she fumbled with enough to give him the upper hand. He grabbed her gun and set it aside. Then he, ever so calmly, pulled back the shower curtain.

Nina almost laughed when she saw his shocked expression, but that would just cause her more pain. “I’m pro-bably g-going to die.” She was surprised by how calm she sounded, she was anything but. Black spots appeared all over her already tunneled vision. She wasn’t thinking straight and said something then that she probably would never have said otherwise. All she could think about was Ayse, so she blurted out, and probably blew the poor woman’s cover, “Please make sure Ayse is ok.” before passing out.

@theartifxce

#theartifxce #anna liebert #johan and anna #johan liebert #new rp #mafia au #sorry I’ve been gone for so long #a lot of things happened #happy to be back! #Beautiful Crime rp

[jojolymes]

𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎; six

࿔*:･ﾟvi.

next: ࿔*:･ﾟvii. |  table of contents

AFTER A few uneventful days, you found yourself close to the checkpoint. They were relatively relaxing days where you and Thunder kept each other company except for the occasional rider you'd have to shake off her trail. They probably weren't out to get you, but you'd always make a point to get away from them with your constant overthinking.

Sometimes, you'd stay close to the waterholes, gathering water and, if you were lucky, a fish or two. Thunder had always gotten her share of water and heavy brush she could eat. Being near waterholes was especially nice when it came to needing a bath. After a quick strip down, a dive in the water, and a bit of soap, you'd be left fresh and ready to go. Even Thunder indulged in a bath by the shore now and then.

Other times, you'd stay between the walls of the canyons, not a waterhole in sight. At some point, you found a passed-out racer with three canteens and took the liberty of taking one of the extras— you had pulled him into the shade and gave his horse some food and water before taking it of course— just to make sure you didn't die out of dehydration. Thunder appreciated the action just as much seeing as there was more water for her to drink, but of course, being near the waterholes was always much nicer.

Sometimes, you would find yourself staring at the night sky for hours on end, talking to yourself or Thunder. Despite making a point not to trust other racers after the entire Robert situation, you found it to be quite lonely. Being alone with your horse while in the fluctuating climate of the desert, you figured, would be much more invigorating with a few friends by your side.

But every time your conscience tried to make that point known, you waved it away, replaying the instances of your brother's death in your mind until the thought was replaced with fear. It wasn't the kindest coping mechanism but it got the job done. Occasionally, you'd think back on your other brother's injuries, fueling your fear and motivation.

Eventually, around three days had passed by and you had been free of any incident. You weren't sure what place you were in now but a part of you told yourself that you were decently high up in the ranks. The only person you saw who was clearly ahead of you was the guy she had taken the canteen from. However, some people did take that shortcut and followed after Gyro and Johnny.

Your mind wandered to the thought of them as you basked in the rays of the setting sun, heading northwest toward the checkpoint. Although you thought of Gyro as a prissy asshole after their encounter with the cork, you couldn't deny that he was...somewhat decent. He had saved you from those men and helped you to the inn so you could get help after all.

Johnny, though, was much more personable after helping you during the race. Had he not told you to calm down, Thunderstruck might have just lost it and thrown you off. Plus, he had tried to help you after getting hit in the nose with the spinning corks Gyro had shot. But back when Gyro had saved you, Johnny seemed sort of ticked off with you, like he didn't want to save you in the first place.

So, to you, Johnny and Gyro were on the same level. You didn't particularly like either of them and they were pretty much strangers to you yet they were prominent figures in your thoughts. After waving those thoughts away, you continued through the desert, spotting a waterhole that you and Thunderstruck could recharge at. The sun had finally disappeared when you both reached the small body of water, leaving you to hop off and Thunder to rush over to the water.

"Thirsty, huh?" you asked, getting a mere look from Thunderstruck before the Palomino horse went back to drinking water. You chuckled and crouched down by the water with a canteen in hand, filling it up and then filling up the other. Instead of closing the other, you took a large sip, not caring when some spilled onto your shirt. Once you were done, you wiped the rest off with your sleeve letting out a refreshed breath of air. Thunder looked at you with what you could only guess was a horse's form of disgust, leaving laughter to tumble from your lips.

"Sorry, sorry," you apologized through laughs as you turned to grab your sleeping bag from Thunder's saddle. As you pulled it out, you pulled at your wet shirt, grimacing at the cold dampness sticking to your body. "Guess this'll have to dry for a bit," you mumbled to yourself, unbuttoning the top until a sharp pain came from your wrist. You stopped what you were doing immediately, pulling the sleeve down to see your wristwatch ticking erratically.

"What the..." You trailed off as the clock's hands spun around the face of it, spinning faster and faster until it shot to the 'three' mark. Your head shot sharply to the side, seeing nothing in the darkness of the desert. A shudder ran down your spine as you felt your body curl in on itself, backing away against Thunderstruck. If something was coming toward you, you had no idea what it could be. You hadn't even started a fire so no one knew you were out here...right?

"Thunder, we got to go. Now." You threw the sleeping bag over Thunder's neck as you put your foot on the stirrup, readying yourself to jump onto the saddle— you couldn't. The sound of galloping grew closer, making your thoughts race as you tried to frantically pull yourself onto Thunder's saddle. You could feel tears start to well up as the frustration and fear swelled in your chest. Just as you pulled your upper half onto the horse, a familiar voice rang out.

"Speedwagon...?"

Thunder trotted around, allowing you to face Johnny, Gyro, and the oh-so-famous Mountain Tim. Your face burned as you slowly slid off Thunder's saddle, tripping when your foot got stuck in the stirrup. Your hands flew to your hat as you slammed onto the ground, still hanging upside down, watching as Mountain Tim came to your aid. Even upside down, you could see Gyro's growing dissatisfaction with seeing you.

"You okay there, son?" asked Mountain Tim as he set you back on your feet, your hands still firmly pulling down your hat. You could only manage to reply with a nod, avoiding Gyro's growing glare. There was something melancholic behind that gaze but you weren't going to try and find out why. As you finally shook yourself from the daze you were in, you noticed blood spilling from above Johnny's eye.

"What happened to you guys?" you cried out as you rushed to Johnny's side, wetting a handkerchief that you then handed to him. He looked at it with a grimace, making you reel back just slightly, letting your hand fall back to your side. "Sorry...my brothers have always told me I'm too...er- caring I guess," you explained with a cough, trying to mask your sudden coddling. These were grown men— you didn't have to look after them.

Mountain Tim smiled and waved offhandedly, "don't worry about it, son. It's a good quality to have." Your eyes lit up and for a moment you imagined the looks on your little brother's faces when you'd tell them about your encounter with the Mountain Tim. Johnny looked at you and sighed, leaning over and tapping your hat with an open hand. When you turned to face him, he could make out your sweet smile in the moonlight, making the air briefly leave his lungs before you handed him the handkerchief.

"Thank...you," Johnny managed to say, wiping at the blood until he could finally see clearly. You took back the handkerchief he handed over to you with another smile, tucking it in your back pocket which Johnny assumed would be washed later. A soft grumble came from Gyro as he hopped off his horse, still glaring at you. You flinched but gave Gyro a soft smile before walking back over to your horse which nudged you once you got close.

"Well..." began Mountain Tim, attempting to cut through the heavy silence, "...Speedwagon, d'ya mind if we camp out with you for the night? Safety in numbers, y'know." You stiffened at his words and gave an awkward laugh that made Tim raise a brow until you finally nodded. "Great! I promise we won't be too much of a bother to you," he said with a charming grin, getting a scoff from Gyro. You didn't even bother looking at him, silently getting ticked off at him yourself.

"To start, how about you two get some wood," ordered Tim, pointing at you and Gyro. Your shoulders jumped as you both slowly turned to one another, Gyro cringing at the sight of you. You could only give him a forced grin and hope he couldn't sense your fear. Gyro straightened up after a bit with a roll of his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest while sticking a thumb at you.

"With him? No way," Gyro said firmly, moving his hands to his hips before pointing his thumb at Johnny instead, "Johnny can do it." Johnny blinked owlishly and raised his brows until Gyro huffed. "Yeah, okay, I get it. You can't move your fucking legs."

"Nice to know you have eyes, dipshit," Johnny replied while leaning back to unbuckle the leather that kept his legs fastened to the saddle. Johnny paused to give Gyro a playful middle finger which was met with a similar one from Gyro. You didn't bother to keep watching them both and turned to look for some sticks in the brush near the waterhole instead.

Soon after grabbing a few sticks, you were harshly turned around to face Gyro; "Look here, Speedwagon. I don't trust you, capisce?" You, although on the verge of pissing your pants, managed to bite back the look of fear on your face and slapped his hands away.

"I don't speak Italian, asshat," you spat, crouching down to continue your search as Gyro scoffed and followed your actions. Had you not been afraid for your life, you might've taken the initiative and 'accidentally' push him into the waterhole, but you figured you'd try to live another day. "And, to be clear, I don't trust you either. You're the ones who are staying with me right now."

You left without a glance over your shoulder, leaving Gyro to watch you stomp away. Stifling a laugh, he snorted softly, shaking his head as he continued to look through the brush. As if you were even close to being intimidating. He rolled his eyes and continued to scavenge for sticks, mentally devising the confrontation as a win for him.

Unbeknownst to Gyro, you were on the verge of crying, hoping to god that Gyro wouldn't be out to kill you. As you made your way back to where Johnny and Mountain Tim were, you quickly wiped at your eyes. Tim caught you in the midst of it and as you handed him the sticks, he nudged your side. You looked at him with disgust smeared across your visible face.

"You okay there, Speedwagon?"

"...I CAN'T WAIT TO LEAVE THIS SHITTY DESERT."

#palominosbr #steel ball run #sbr #jojo #jjba #jjba x reader #jojo part seven #johnny joestar x reader #gyro zeppeli x reader #hot pants x reader #diego brando x reader

[nathank77]

5/8/24

2:04 a.m Edited/Added to

So I'm playing bo4, I have been all day since shipping the envelope minus when I showered and shaved my head and face.

The problem with games like this is there is hardly any dialogue... so I mean I hallucinate constantly. Constantly. CONSTANTLY. I have a head ache from it. This is why I listen to TV all day or chose my games wisely and tbh I really think the Xanax half life plays a role. Every day by like 11 p.m or 12 a.m my brain stops being sedated and I hallucinate more..

I had a flashback of me hitting myself in the head over and over again. And I keep thinking about how I didn't write about that in my Kristen Report. It's fucking sad trying to play my favorite game all day and having flashbacks and hallucinating constantly.

I'm like dying inside. I'm so exhausted from hallucinating... and I'm worried about not making it to my t-shot... beyond that, why didn't I write about that in the kristen report???? I can't do it now. I mean clearly I blocked it out.

Sometimes I wonder why I fight so hard to be here? I'm so single I'm going to die alone. All I have is my siblings. And I can barely be around big groups of people bc it's exhausting af. Also money and everything.

My grandmother and aunt is here bc my uncle who I hate is dying. And my dad wants me to go there Thursday and I just can't do it. I can't. It's too much. I missed seeing my grandmother last time she came here too bc of psychosis.

My uncle Mark the transphobic asshole is dying from dementia and a lung disease. I feel bad and idk If I should see him or even go to the funeral. I always said I wouldn't when the time came.

Anyways I'm here hallucinating thinking about all this stuff while I try to play and I have a head ache..

Trying to figure out how to drug myself tonight to make it to my stupid Testosterone shot...

Melatonin interacts with Ibuprofen... and I need Ibuprofen... to stop this head ache... so maybe I'll take 1mg of Xanax and 25mg of Hydroxyzine.. and leave out the Melatonin..

I just don't know why I'm still here. I love being Nathan so much but this hallucination is never ending and I have nothing to live for other than the guy in the mirror. I can barely accomplish anything bc my mental health keeps me so held back. It takes me triple the time of a normal person.

I wouldn't even be seeing Mark. I'd be seeing just my grandmother and aunt and dad and step mom and the kids and it's just too much.

Not to mention the other day I either threw my xanax bottle on the bed before going to the bathroom (its only got my daily dose in it the rest is locked away) and I don't remember bc I can't think of a reason I did that... or my mother did. Before I saw the bottle on my bed I heard my mother on the phone say alprazolam... did I hallucinate that? She was talking to our neighbor Mark and about to go over there. Now I'm suspicious she's stealing my xanax despite the fact that the count is right. I went over the options:

1) she's stealing it- but the numbers add up

2) her and Mark are getting fake Pills and replacing my real ones with the fakes- this sounds utterly delusional.

She's prob heard me say benzodiazepines 5000 times and idk how stupid she is. Does she know Xanax and Valium for example are benzodiazepines. I was reading my Kristen Report outloud so many times to stop hallucinating as much bc reading in silence is torture... so idk..

She could be replacing the Pills but it's very delusional.. although not impossible or she could be planning to steal a couple halfs slowly...

Or i could have hallucinated it.... but why did I hallucinate that? I was thinking about picking up my xanax bc I was doing it that day- but I think xanax not alprazolam... it was before I saw it on the bed. Obv alignment with the hallucination has become an issue I can think any word and it can say it... but I do really think xanax... My hallucination can go into sounds and into inaudible dialogue.. beyond that maybe I read the cvs text on my way to my bedroom... and that says alprazolam.... she was kinda whispering and then said like it's smoke some hash and started talking about weed...but...

Why was my xanax bottle on my bed?? I can't remember for the life of me why I would throw it on the bed...

[anokayapple-blog]

"I'm still in love with you."

Wayne pried his eyes from the sky to gaze upon Vee. She didn't return his stare, she continued to look upon the sky as she blew out a puff of pure white smoke. Wayne always respected Vee because she could smoke weed without hacking her lungs out like he did. Wayne was never good at smoking weed, he was never good at anything, really. No, that wasn't true, he had always been a master at self-sabotage.

"And you never said anything?" Wayne asked.

"Nah." Vee replied, taking another deep inhale of her wax pen. "Never wanted to."

"Why?"

"Why would I?"

Wayne didn't know. What if she had? Would that have changed how he felt? Most likely not. Wayne was too concerned with himself, his life, his career. If anything, Wayne would have distanced himself from Vee, and she wouldn't have blamed him. She would have given him his space and he wouldn't text her. She would move on, and get with some other guy. Probably some other tech nerd, or maybe a poet. No, Vee would never date a poet, they're too love-drunk and wouldn't let her have her alone time. Maybe she would find some blue-collar guy who didn't like to beat women and she would pop out a few babies. No, she probably wouldn't do that either. Maybe she would do what she had always wanted: finally sucked it up and put her writing out there. She'd get a best seller or two and move into a cabin up north with a dog, live her life out as a modern spinster and die alone but fulfilled. She's a feminist, she probably doesn't care if she dies alone or not.

"I don't know, I guess I wish you had." Wayne replied.

"That wouldn't have worked out." She said.

"Probably not."

She took another hit of the pen. "I'd rather have you as a friend than anything else." She said.

"Why?"

"Because I love you. I'd rather have you in my life than not."

"But doesn't that hurt you? To watch me date someone else and love them? Why would you hurt yourself like that?"

"I want it to hurt me."

Wayne's eyebrows stitched together. "Why?"

"It's the only way to make me not like you."

"But you love me."

"I do."

"Then why are you sabotaging it?"

"Because I don't want to love you."

Wayne's heartstrings knotted together. "Why?"

"Because you will never love me the way I want you to. You're never going to come around and see me as beautifully as I see you. When I see you, I feel happy. Like, no matter what is going on around me I'm going to be happier. And I don't want that to be the case. I want you to be my friend, but I don't want to be so happy to see you. Like, sure it's cool you're there but...I just feel like if you're not gonna use that spot in my heart to its full potential, you should move over for someone else."

"I'd like to."

"I'd like for you to as well, but I have to open the door for you. My heart just won't let go."

Tears shot up into Wayne's throat, making his eyes murky and his breathing rigid. This was not how he wanted this to go. "Why did you have to tell me all of this?" He choked. "Vee, what the fuck?"

"I had to get it out."

"But...Vee..."

"Sorry."

Wayne wiped his nose on his sleeve. "No, you're not." He sobbed.

Vee took another inhale from her pen. "You're right." She sighed, the smoke forming middle fingers at him as they dissipated in the air. She raised her free hand up, pointing to the sky. "There it is."

Wayne followed her finger with his eyes. The asteroid had broken through the atmosphere and was hurtling towards the Atlantic Ocean. Within seconds, it was over. Vee held her hand out to him, her face void of any expectation. That was her worst quality, he thought. She was so ruthless, telling him all this and wanting her hand held, but still giving him the room to reject it. Why couldn't she demand it? Make him hold her hand? At least then she would be a villain, and then he would have a reason to be mad at her.

He reached out and took her hand, interlacing his fingers with hers. He was mad, but it didn't matter anymore. If he had the time, he would have pushed Vee out of his life. He would have raged about it, let the fires burn themselves out and let himself miss her. But at the end of the day he knew he would seek her out. He would reconcile with her, see if he could be her friend again. Sure, their love had fizzled away, but she was still important to him. She was still his best friend, the only person willing to stand by him no matter what, the only one patient enough to pick him back up when he's down.

So, as the asteroid hit the ocean and carved into it, setting out a bone shattering shockwave that would scream across the United States. A wave of fire would follow close behind it, evaporating every bit of water it encountered and blasting it into the air, creating a giant cloud of skin-bubbling steam. No one would survive this; not the peppers, not the rich. Everyone and everything dies here.

Vee and Wayne smoked from their pen. They would walk into afterlife hand in hand, their friendship strong enough to cross realms.

#female writers #on writing #prose #writeblr #fiction writing #my writing #writers #writing #sad

[fantasycorrupted-a]

“What’s wrong?” -Tristin, aka catboy

Send me “What’s wrong?” And my muse will tell yours why they are upset.

4. “I’m going to die.”

For what reason a complete stranger would care if she was dying, Rigmor didn’t know. When she was younger and far more easily saddened by things, a part of her would always resort to seeing the end of her life as a fix, an answer, a solution to the trouble she could not deal with. Her mother may have not been the worst in the world - there were far more fatal cases of kids with terrible parents - but on the few occasions she found herself kicked out of home, the young Rigmor had seen herself succumb to the starvation and coldness. But she couldn’t just give up.

And on she had lived. That was, until the thing she had suspected would happen but had never counted on happening did, in fact, come true. Being a tattooist meant she would meet all kinds of people; some good, some rude, some with questionable morals. And while Rigmor herself was no saint, either (though she did have some belief in deities, the Norse ones in particular), to a few folks she had turned out worse than a sinner. Once upon a time a woman had threatened to kill her if she did not give her a tattoo. And not without reason.

Rigmor’s tattoos could give people different powers, which Rigmor referred to as magic. Usually it depended a lot on the tattoo, but most of them were symbolic as the image that represented them - for example, a lion for bravery that you could hear roar and see it move if you looked at it, a flower that could blossom during the day and shut its petals closed together to sleep during the night. There were, as such, a number of tattoos she refused to give unless their receiver swore an oath to the gods that he or she would not use the magic to hurt innocent people.

Long story short, a petty criminal with no spine had walked into her tattoo shop one day, threatening her to give him something dangerous (some sort of curse that would backfire if someone tried to ever prove him guilty or hurt him), or else she would end up as dead as all the other tattoo artists that had told him to leave instead of doing what he wanted. Of course, Rigmor was not about to agree, either. And although she sprung to protect herself - after a few incidents Rigmor had learned self-defense - the person shot her, melting into thin air afterwards.

...The words Rigmor managed to say were mostly to herself, after it hit her (figuratively) that she was bleeding profusely. Her side was hurting her badly, worse than any other pain she had ever felt before, and for a moment she had to say the words to let whatever had just happened sink in. But she wasn’t alone. And not only was she not alone, Rigmor realised, but a young man with feline features seemed to be looking at her, concern written over his face. “I got shot,” Rigmor forced herself to speak, though her voice refused to obey her, only coming out quietly.

@lycanspirited

#( asks. ) #( answered. ) #rigmor; #lycanspirited

[dunnoifits42]

life of cat 6

just woke up at 1 in the morning, didn't feel cat. where is cat? dummy, took her to the house of pain to be killed when she was a screaming crying bag of sticks. it's cold.

fell asleep again, cat woke me up in my dream, was in a place i did not know, cat told me to go to bed, it's safer, we went to another room with a lockable door but no light, put my knife on the nightstand, closed the door, heard a car outside and woke up.

thinking about last times. when was the last time you met a person or went to a place or did this or that? oftentimes i don't remember because i don't know when it happens that it's the last time so it seems to be insignificant. 

cat gave up her regular walkies back in october. there are pics from october 17. she was already weak back then, her legs shaking badly when she sat down. her last longer trip around the house and along the street was back in may, this was her only longer journey in 2022. we went for walkies later on, in december, and even in january and february, but they were really short, just a few meters out the door. so when was the last time? i don't know. when did cat give up playing with her toy mice, or her zip ties or just random stuff? i don't remember. if i threw her a zip tie recently she would hit it once or twice and then just leave it alone. when was the last time she caught a bird or a bat or a moth or a butterfly? i don't remember. she definitely did not catch anything in 2022, maybe not even in 2021, maybe the last time she caught something was before her stay at the vet clinic in 2020.

after october we went out only when she wanted to go once every few weeks, or when she was so constipated that i had to get her moving to be able to go to the litterbox.  the last time cat waited for me at the door when i came home was in january. i was surprised, because she had not done that for some time, because she was too tired to get up. i'd usually bring her her food and she would only get up later in the evening to come to the couch and lay down again on my legs. later she would spend some time looking out of the bedroom window, watching the animals passing by on their way to and from the little forest and even later still she might or might not go to the kitchen to eat some dry food. then she would stay with me on the couch until it was time to go to bed. in the morning she would follow me to the kitchen, maybe have some breakfast, and to the bathroom. later she would go to sleep again, either next to me, or using one of her 65 napping spots in this apartment. this was life of cat in her final months.

cat's world had shrunk to the size of the apartment plus roof terrace, so sad.

but cat was not really suffering, she still was interested in birds, just wouldn't stay out as long as before. she would keep her rituals, interact with her human, check on the forest animals from the bedroom window, she just would sleep more and do less.

i had already given up on the hypoallergenic food, fed her everything she liked. she could eat anything she wanted, the steroids were strong enough to keep her allergies in check.

it was not enough, though, in january cat was down to 2.8 kg and i started to remind her every two or three hours of her food. there were 4 bowls with different kinds of dry food and two bowls with meat in the kitchen.

cat had gotten pneumonia again and her chances to cheat death again were slim. there were no usable antibiotics left to treat her, she had lost a lot of weight, again, but she had always been a fighter.

mom wanted to come over to get some stuff that had been sitting in the basement for 7 years. when she did on february 19 she said cat is so thin! i know, cat isn't eating enough. i told her that i did  not want cat to just die, we agreed i’d go to the vet to get some shots, maybe, maybe. 

so, cat had seen mom once more and the next day we went to the vet. cat's got pneumonia again, I told him. we need to x-ray her, said the vet. you need to sedate her before x-raying, i said. he asked: why, isn't she that tame? so i opened her carrier and a fuzzy dragon rose, hissing and slashing. closed the carrier again, vet didn't want to x-ray anymore and asked me what to do. i asked for one shot of antibiotics against the pneumonia and one shot of steroids against her asthma. the following fight took about half an hour. a few needles were bent and we had to stop for some time because she almost bit off one of my fingertips and i was bleeding heavily. so, she was not yet ready to die.

#fussel #caturday #catlife

[the-firebird69]

There's a huge war going on just got a little bigger it's a huge number of people trying to drill in the middle areas and tons of them are dead it sounds more time now and the clones are fighting them and it's being advertised it's them it should make it easier it says yeah I won't have to pay a toll I just ride my stupid bike there and back so laughing because these people here are clueless

Thor Freya

How could you people be so stupid your act as his act he doesn't have your act at all it's going around wasting people to try and get money they're sitting here as old retirees

Nuada Arrianna

You people in Tommy air for getting hit because you don't do anything for him I know it too cuz you don't do anything for me it's like being stuck between two big huge idiots and you're stuck there with nobody else around and I know what he's saying I can't do anything here it is a huge pain so I'm looking forward to go to Walmart so who's thinking what he needs he doesn't really need anything so starting to get pissed off even though he told me about it cuz I have to get some stuff these idiots are always taking the stuff and they do their asinine routine here this s*** had Trump is going to go to trial he's like a dick 24 hours a day won't leave me alone in the hallway won't leave me alone in the kitchen won't leave me alone in the eat area and gosh she is a big huge dick his sister talking and talking and talking if you don't talk to me start saying what's the matter not good enough for you and I just say something quietly you're pretty close you're right on goes back to his room sets yelling and screaming. He's a little boy and a man's body and he won't stop talking and he won't stop yelling and he won't leave me alone all night and he won't stop knocking on my door and he has no right to annoy me I'm not bothering him he's a huge a****** so my friend thanks for handling this s*** head like it's my job. You know what Trump you deserve to die he keeps having you killed he won't shut your face and it works he says he said you killed a lot like 100 times this month you've died in bad ways because you're bothering him and threatening him and now I'm going to have to killed. Stan is saying it too you have to go you are a massive loser and I'm telling staff you're up all night long harassing me and your harassing others too it is a dick head who broke into Gators you don't even know you own it you stupid s***. And you didn't either.. he's been charged with a crime he needs to leave he's going to go to trial next week or something it's horrible gosh what a dick since it's out of here shortly today is going to get shot to s*** and tonight he'll die over and over possibly be in prison and tomorrow he'll be out all morning and then forever so many fantasy says I leave too and have a hard time getting back it doesn't really know why I don't understand it either we all get locked out and it says it's the other Max and we believe it cuz we are abusive to them no but Mac is and so is Tom Arnold well

Ken

Did you see why we do see why and Hera is asking if he saw us and yeah so I've been he's like a lesser evil and he's complete morons and he can't help it because he doesn't have anything either a Garth and it's a different story it really is they're pitiful like you no it's pitiful and I can't help it oh yeah it's kind of like you but you're doing a lot to do change it and they're doing nothing at all but you say usually they get hurt if they do I understand that too so they're prisoners here well less and these people are all going to prison and Dad too soon but yeah Garth and Ken are kept out and I see it coming and I know why Hera says they're both part of the program even though they are forced to do it you inherit the Earth will and Bill say. But as she said they're kept out. Not that bad if you are no you're not. Now they're arguing for crying out loud this is hell and it kept out and they do suck and Garth is impossible to be around that guy's a dick. My son doesn't really want to go to Walmart and it doesn't really have anything to get but the douchebag is going to be waiting he doesn't call he's going to start annoying him you're very realize it's in payment for him moving him during this really odd disgusting time he says he knows that this is good this is one first these are the pizza place and get a get a whole pizza cuz I just take some cheese off garth don't you fret, I realize you two are under massive duress you don't have a choice I don't either even though I have a lot of power I can't choose and decide who comes and goes that's going to be who's running Florida to a degree and I can get you in here but life might be worse believe it or not worse than living with Gene Hackman actually it's one of them would be keeping you out so we do see that we understand what you're saying and if we can't get back in there there's a reason, we'll see it a little and Gene Hackman is one explanation and it's helpful Ken says. But they get stuck out there because of their situation more so than being part of the band and they find that out too no they're part of the band just not a great part and they know that but the people who are here are forcing them out because they keep messing stuff up and they keep out a big list of people then they say everybody but us let me start messing with her stuff in DC Virginia and other areas and it starts to get the ship out and then go up there and this place is then taken by foreigners a whole bunch of them come in South Americans Asians African and a son saying they can't tell the people are and that becomes obvious and start fighting Max big time this happens about a month from now and because of the invite with DC and the foreigners the group here doesn't come back and they end up going to Titan seeking the AI and they die on the Titanic dancing and it's repulsive towards the end of just become the pigs they are and their whole system comes out it doesn't do a damn thing to get some all killed including Mac he dies a lot.

But they're not kept out until they leave on the Titanic and then it starts and the clones too are attacked and they're pushed off the ships all the mac daddy and Tom Arnold people, and there's no clans that side with them and of course their kids are pushed out they call them animals and things like that. And things get a little dicey but it's because they keep trying to break in and they keep saying these people are useless homo addicts and what you say is they're unbelievably bad I restraining order works like 2 seconds is for us for years you have no right to do that it's not funny even if dead Trump for it. Let's see with her eyes and hear it then as he tons of it then they can't stand them at all and start butchering them and they should what they've been doing to people's horrific and sit around and wait for people to die it's gross.

They also see that the idiots had a plan to do stuff to DC and not this person here and they see that the max did too and they're calling them evil and they're going to put him on trial and really they should be a trial and they should be a witness and start saying it too and starts working and the idiots go up and take ships like spoiled little brats

Thor Freya

[greycaelum]

Jujutsu Kaisen: Gojo Satoru X Reader

(Kaleidoscope Series || Clouds and Mochi Chapters ||)

[Light shines the brightest in the dark]

[Notes and Warnings: mentions of miscarriage, violence, poisoning, injury, labor, mentions of a massacre, angst, a glimpse of Kouki's innate ability, comfort. If you are not comfortable with these topics, press the 'back' button. Word Count: 4.7k]

Moonrise

I.

June

"What's the matter Y/n?" Soft hands of your Mother-in-Law held your arm.

You frowned and put your palm above your belly.

"My stomach has been restless lately."

"What did you eat at breakfast? We should call the doctor." The lady immediately called for the servant to dial the hospital. "Satoru is in Hokkaido, should I call him?"

It's been a week since your husband is out of the Gojo Estate to sort matters and loose ends. Based on his tired calls and short messages it doesn't seem to be ending anytime soon.

"I'll message him later, maybe I just need a nap I kept tossing awake last night." You waved and excused yourself to return to the backyard villa. Kouki is in his classes at the main estate so you're alone in the cozy house. Satoru decided to renovate your home before you all go back.

The Gojo Estate is the safest your family could be with things still unsettled. Satoru no matter how much he wants to stay home is often away but he's a lot easier to appease knowing you and Kouki are safe.

Your gaze landed at your 32 weeks pregnant belly. Satoru was chill about it, but you didn't miss how he wakes up in cold sweat at night and reach out for you like a lifeline. His tensed hands would always rest on your baby bump until he slowly drift back to sleep. There are silent nights he would mutter apologies to you with broken eyes and a low voice.

He needs to slow down...

Reaching for your phone, your fingers tap to send him a cute note and 'I love you,' asking when he'll be back and how much you miss him.

"Milady, I brought you snacks,"  a housekeeper knocked on the door.

You frowned, not remembering if you asked for it.

"The Madam sent me to arrange your food, should I bring them in?"

Oh... You told the maid to enter and she held a tray filled with various biscuits and tea. You've lived a mundane life with Satoru for 7 years. You've perhaps forgotten the fact that Satoru is the head of the Gojo Clan and grew up with servants at his beck and call. It was only until you lived here for the past 7 months that you realize how much and what have Satoru turned his back upon to be with you.

"What tea is this?" You asked bringing the cup to inhale the pleasant smell.

"It's red raspberry leaf tea Milady. It's safe for pregnant women, my sister drank it when she was pregnant and it eased her childbirth." The maid smiled and ask what dessert would you like to eat.

"Can you get me the honey in the pantry?" The maid complied and walk to the kitchen.

"Milady there's no honey."

"Check the fridge please," you lean and see her rummage there while you tap on your phone with cold sweaty hands.

A sharp spike of pain shot across your belly, like a whiplash it left you breathless gripping the couch's arms. Your eyes widen in panic at the flying plate heading for your head. You barely dodge your head and it hit the wall shattering into million tiny shards.

"Mama?" The door opened and Kouki came in.

Like a drum pounding hard, your heart thundered with your head in confusion all you could mutter is three words in a hurry while looking at your son's worried face.

"Run, call Papa!" You stood up and flinched at the shards scattered everywhere, one wrong move would either be a bloodbath to your feet or you slip.

"As if," the maid scoffed and turn to the chair beside her, dragging it and met your eyes. "You will shut your mouth and die here." She raised the chair and threw it to you. The wooden chair cracked against the hard floor and broke into irreparable shapes.

"Who are you?" You inch away and started distracting her by talking.

She'd deranged, the way her dark eyes swirl with lunacy as she glares at you.

You muttered thanks that Kouki listened and ran out of the house. You need to also find a way to go out before this woman could harm you.

"That's supposed to be my line you bitch," she hissed, venom dripping in form of words. "I should've gotten rid of you since the start."

You tried racking your brain but can't find a single memory of ever meeting her.

"I don't even know you," you spat, stepping back as you circle each other. The vase by your side is still out of reach.

"Of course, you don't, I'm just someone Gojo Satoru discarded after you seduced him."

What?

"He was supposed to get married to me!" She screamed, grabbing the broken wood from the chair earlier and hurling it at you. "But because of a low-class weakling who could barely fight a curse, he called off our engagement! Do you know the shame my family has to carry because of you?!"

You hid behind the wall and grab the vase blindly throwing it in her direction. The porcelain shattered to pieces and head-splitting force yanked your hair.

"I will kill you, and after that your despicable son, that halfling who barely have curse energy walking around being called Gojo Satoru's heir, I will gut him alive."

If you were dazed earlier, at the mention of your son being harmed the blood in your veins boiled down to the tips of your nails.

"Try!" Grabbing back her head you brought your elbows up and with all force you have hit her nose. The maid staggered loosening her head to grip the closest thing she can hold unto.

You didn't have the strongest sorcerer as a husband and act like a pampered wife. He could at least teach you basic self-defense, and teach you he did. Good thing you listened to him when he trained you.

"Lay the tip of your nails on my son and I will pull them out along with the roots of your hair," your voice simmered to a low but dangerous pitch with fury burning in your eyes.

"If not because of you, if you weren't born ahhhhhhhh!" she picked up the sharp shard on the floor and throw her body at you.

"What are you doing?"

The place turned black... or was it white? You suck a breath, a headache forming in your head with the uncertainties filling your system all at once. The information keeps drowning you like an ocean in a storm. Your body is floating yet your feet are firmly planted above nothing.

"Close your eyes," arms pulled on your waist, and press your head on the spaces of his neck. The minty scent with a tinge of aftershave filled your senses as you lean your head on the familiar shoulders.

"I want to ask you again but I'd be daft if I don't understand from the wreck in my house while a maid is charging on my wife."

You've heard Satoru angry a couple of times, his tone is often dripping in sarcasm and nonchalance but his voice right now is a tone you would compare when the judges of hell pass down a verdict. It was as deep monotone as grey yet filled with conviction and promising a wrathful vengeance. But for you... the more you listen to him the more your heart started to relax, nuzzling onto his chest to feel his presence as close as possible.

He was your harbor in this uncertain vast void.

"I'll deal with you after this."

The void was broken and the next thing was your feet swept off the ground, Satoru's hurried footsteps going outside of the house while gripping the underside of your knees and shoulders almost too painful but you can't utter anything other than thanking the heavens he reached you before something really bad happened.

"Satoru?" Your eyes fluttered open to met your husband's naked eyes, they were bloodshot and bordering between his sanity and bloodlust.

"Don't speak," he murmured in constricted voice, the bobbing of his Adam's apple told you how much he's restraining himself. You could bet his knuckles are white from clenching hard on your knees.

"Thank you for coming," breathlessly you told him and groaned.

"Satoru?" That was your mother-in-law's voice. "Heavens she's bleeding!" her frantic voice was the last thing you heard and slip into spirals of darkness.

II.

SOS

Three letters were enough to send Satoru running home in desperation. Anxiety? It wasn't enough to describe the fear of millions of possibilities running through his brain after reading your message. His hair stood up and 'what ifs' crawled through the back of his spine wondering what might have happened. It was like a volcano inside him is boiling but unable to spew lava. His son's call was the last trigger that sent him flying back. All that was running in his brain as he teleport countless times to reach your side was cursing the more or less 1.3 thousand kilometer distance between Hokkaido and Tokyo.

And the first thing he saw was your disheveled form with a stranger running to your pregnant belly—to his unborn child with a sharp tip of the glass.

Satoru did the first thing that came into mind. Dragging everyone in his domain.

One second he arrived late, you would've been lying in pool of blood and he might've loss the thin last thread of lucidity he's hanging on to stay sane after all that happened.

He can't stay put while the doctors are examining you, his mind won't rest until he hauls out the perpetrator of this. Satoru's face was stoic but inside his brain, he was in a livid state, half of his being screaming for retribution and blood while the other half ceaselessly praying to whoever it is out there listening that you and his daughter are alright.

Of all the things there is to touch, they choose his family? Finding out the mastermind is a pain. He might as well just start manslaughter. If he can do it for Yuji, what more for his children? He walks down the dusty dungeon of the Gojo Estate. Opening the steel cell he turn to the side where a stool was left.

"Who sent you?"

The chains rattled and the woman look up, the dried blood on her nose and snow-white skin now bruised and reddened by the shackles.

"Who do you think?" She jeered. "If you think I'm the only one then you're wrong."

Satoru scoffed. He's amazed that his ex-fiancee who use to faint at the simple stain can tolerate the dirt she has stooped into in this moldy cell.

"Your clan already washed their necks Marika."

"Hah!" Marika scoffed and laughed. "I don't care even if their heads roll down. I already lost everything Gojo, do you think I would care for those leeches sucking up to me after knowing I will be your wife, but when you called off the engagement I was abandoned as a worthless daughter who cannot even fulfill her filial duties."

"And you decided to turn it into my wife?" Satoru growled.

Their eyes met. One is a livid bright blue full the other is a pair of devoided brown.

"If I can't be happy then you shouldn't be happy as well! You should suffer with me!" Marika grits her teeth. "I hate that woman from the bottom of my heart. If she didn't appear I wouldn't be here. If you never met her I wouldn't have to face the humiliation of a thrown-away fiancee! That kid of yours, look at that disgrace she has born for you! A boy who barely has curse energy? Hah! Shame on you Gojo, shame on you!" She spits on Satoru's feet.

"Your existence isn't even a tenth of my son's value."

"Go to hell agh!" Marika yelp. The sound of bones breaking as Satoru stomped on her hand, grinding down the soles of his shoe on the disfigured hand.

"Hah! You think you ca—agh! say that when you see the deformed baby she'll give birth?" A mad look dawned on Marika's face while smiling.

Satoru frowned, one more word he might just make her head explode.

"I've been poisoning her food for months now, that stubborn bitch I don't know why she still hasn't miscarried the bastard in her but even if your child is born you'll wish it was never alive! I should thank your mother for letting me in the Estate." Marika laughed in grimace, tears beading down at the sight of her mangled hand.

Crack

Drip, drip

"I was thinking of letting you keep your mouth, but I guess you have nothing good to say anyway," Satoru wipe his hand smeared with blood and saliva. "I doubt you'd like hearing your slurred voice after I broke your jaws."

Satoru opened the cell door and walk out, not bothering to close it.

Y/n... Fuck, would you still forgive me with all my sins against you?

Satoru wants to hold you, wants to badly tell you how sorry he is for dragging you in this mess. The moonlight welcomed Satoru's eyes as he comes out of the dungeon.

His child is a girl... That was what they knew after the ultrasound. His precious little treasure... he barely got to know her when she was still tiny and growing inside you. Satoru's been dreaming of having children with you for years.

He was more than ready despite the whirlwind surprise when he got home. He renovated the house to fit even five children in it. Ordered the cribs and baby stuff. Remembered what he did when you went through post-partum... Anything he thought his family will need when the Little Treasure is born.

But now, he's bound to lose his unborn child and probably even you. Just because of an old grudge he didn't bother settling properly. Fuck just how much does he need to lose? Satoru just wants to go home and hold you in his arms. He's tired.

"Milord, what should we do with the Tachibana Clan?" A man in a mask appeared before Satoru.

"Slit their nec—"

"Papa!"

A small force hit Satoru's legs. Looking down Satoru met his son's eyes. The very beautiful eyes Kouki inherited from you. Satoru bit his lips and dismissed the man in a mask who disappeared in silence.

"You did a good job calling Papa earlier." Satoru crouched down and gathered Kouki's small hands inside his large palms. Brushing the underside of his son's eyes which are a little puffy. "Did you cry?"

Kouki nodded.

"It's okay to cry."

"Where's Mama?" Kouki's lower lip jutted and look at Satoru.

"She's in the hospital, do you want to go there with me?"

"Umu," Kouki agreed and hug Satoru's neck.

"Thank goodness, I was looking for you," an elder lady followed by several housekeepers holding a jacket found the father and son.

Not paying them any mind, Satoru scoops his son in his arms and press Kikufuku's head on the space of his neck. Looking back he shot his mother a glare.

"We'll talk when I get back."

III.

Pre-term labor in 32 weeks.

Satoru runs his palms on his face. It feels like his knees are giving up on him that he needed to stay seated or else he'll fall. The doctor already gave him a briefing of what might happen to you and his Little Treasure. His little princess can be born in a few hours or a day or two but he's nowhere in the right disposition to be happy about it.

Premature birth is birth that happens too soon, before 37 weeks of pregnancy. They have given you a shot of magnesium and steroids to help the baby's lungs develop in case she comes early.

The doctor informed him your test came back and there were no traces of food poisoning. That was his solace as for what miracle how the worst scenario in his head was evaded he could only whisper gratitude in silence.

"Love," your small voice called from the bed of the private room he arranged in the nearest large hospital.

Satoru stood up and the world started spinning under his feet. A painful headache strikes him almost robbing the oxygen in his lungs.

Fuck

He hasn't eaten lunch and dinner.

Staggering on his feet, Satoru walks to your bedside, careful not to make any noise or else he'll wake up Kouki who's sleeping on the couch. Kouki was shocked seeing you writhe in pain earlier that the mochi cried too in distress and Satoru cannot quell him at all, he cried until he fell asleep.

"It's going to be okay," you whispered, reaching up to cup his cheeks.

Your soft voice and tender gaze weakened Satoru's heart that he could barely breathe and submitted himself to your hold.

"I'm sorry..." In a shaky voice, he said, catching your palm and pressing it tighter to his face. Satoru closed his eyes.

"For what exactly?"

"For everything," for dragging you in this mess, and the rotten world I'm buried in. Satoru couldn't finish it. Please don't get tired of me... This is what he's been scared of. You wouldn't have to suffer like this if you didn't choose to be with him. If he didn't force himself on your peaceful life.

"Do you regret me?" You asked, rubbing your thumb on his damp cheeks.

He's been crying?

"No, I never. I regret putting you in this kind of situation."

A smile grazed your lips and nodded.

"Love I'm scared," softly you said and he tightened his hold on your hand. "Can I get a kiss?" You pouted and chuckled.

Satoru quickly leaned down to give you a peck and brush the hair on your forehead.

"That's it?" You stare at him in disbelief. "Stingy!"

"What do you expect me to do? Kiss you like a madman when you're in a delicate situation?" His face darkened again.

"Kiss me, again!" You demanded with a pout, leaving him no choices. "Please?" You added with pitiful eyes.

"Silly. My Y/n don' beg," he murmured, disgruntled with the idea of seeing you plead. Satoru draw circles in your knuckles.

"You also told me that when I was in labor with Kouki," you smiled remembering the memory when you begged him to distract you from the pain of your first labor.

"You should never beg me of something I will surrender to you wholeheartedly." Satoru snorted. "Did you know she tried poisoning you?"

"Oh, she did? What did the doctor say?" You shrug. Satoru sighed, not knowing if he should praise you for being too calm or flick your forehead for having no sense of danger. "I didn't trust her in the first place. Maids don't come into the villa unless I ask for them, your mother is pretty strict about the housekeepers that come in and out of the house. Kouki and I have been eating either my cooking or your mother's when she comes in the villa to stay with us, other than that we don't eat anything else from outside."

"..."

Satoru remained silent. He doesn't want to talk about his mother after what he knew. Did his mother still harbor ill feelings toward you and decided to cooperate with Tachibana Marika? What would she get from that? Satoru made it clear when he officially became the Gojo Clan's Head he would never take a concubine, or think of remarrying. So what was their purpose? Is this just people trying to create a misunderstanding between him and his clan?

It could truly be purely revenging towards him for turning his back on the betrothal. You and his baby are just collateral damages to that. He curled his fists, nails digging against his calloused palms, droplets of blood formed in the rugged skin. Think rationally Satoru... What's the best torture he should use to set an example so this would never happen again?

"What are you thinking about Love?" You poke his cheeks and frown, turning to his closed fists. "Give me your hand Satoru," sternness laced your voice, and reach to open his bleeding hand, taking it to your own to wipe the iron liquid away. A pained look dawned on your weary face.

"It's about those people who hurt you." He confessed Satoru doesn't want to lie. He had tried to lie to you years ago. The bile and payment he had to swallow was a cold war that almost tore you away from him. He learned his lesson, very well...

"Can you let me handle that after I give birth?"

"You will?" Satoru looks at you with worried eyes. He's uneasy at the thought that you'll forgive whoever the mastermind is with just a 'sorry'.

"Trust me," you smiled.

End of discussion.

Just like that Satoru nods in resignation to your will. Leaning forward to kiss your forehead. "You can do anything you want Honey. Just don't get hurt. That's all I'm asking.."

You nod and sigh.

"Scared?" You asked and he hummed an inaudible murmur. "I can't say for you not to worry or not be scared but... I'll come home with you with our daughter just like how you came home to me and Kouki." You gaze at him full of love that Satoru could almost forget you're having induced labor and just earlier you were sobbing from pain... it was worse than you had with Kouki.

You reach to kiss him before dozing off to rest.

IV.

"Papa... Are you angry?" Kouki gazes up at his Papa who hasn't moved from the chair and just stared unblinking at the white wall. Kikufuku has been asking his father since his Mama was wheeled into the strange room and they're not allowed in by the doctors.

"Mama's taking long..." Kouki mumbled slipping himself between his father's thighs and pressing his tiny back against the hard and dependable chest of his Papa Kouki sighed in impatience.

"Kikufuku, when you're angry what do you do?" Satoru asked his son absentmindedly.

"I inhale and exhale." Kouki exaggeratedly breathe in and breathe out. "Then Mama told me I should tell the person what made me angry. Are you angry Papa?" Kouki blinked up playing with the button of Satoru's shirt.

"Papa is not happy with the person who hurt Mama," Satoru hoisted his son up to his lap and they're looking in each other's eyes. "What do you think should we do?"

"We should ask Mama," Kouki answered.

"Why?"

"Because Mama was the one who got hurt."

"But she can't make a choice right now," Satoru pointed out but Kouki shook his head.

"Mama said, never make decisions for anyone."

Satoru helplessly smiled and rub the cute nose of his son... He was unable to finish his verdict to Marika's clan because the Little Mochi interrupted him. Satoru was unable to follow his plan because you intervened. And now once again, he's hearing you from his son.

"How about you Kikufuku are you not mad?" Oftentimes Satoru notices how his son has a higher understanding for his four years old age... Kids are mysterious.

Kouki shakes his head

"I'm scared Papa."

Satoru's eyes softened and brought his son closer to cradle him and press a kiss on the mochi's forehead. He's still just a four years old kid. And Satoru missed his son's fourth birthday because he's stuck in that forsaken cube.

"Why are you scared Kikufuku?"

"I saw Mama sleeping on a wet red floor, I tried waking her up but she won't then, then, a lady was beside me holding the kitchen knife but you saved me. When you saw Mama sleeping on the floor you cried."

...

"You saw that?" Satoru's spine ran cold. It was a kid's clumsy storytelling but it sparked an unknown fear in his heart. "How?"

Kouki pointed to his eyes with an innocent look. Satoru stared at his son's beautiful eyes which Kouki inherited from you.

"After I saw that I ran home but the lady holding the knife was trying to hurt Mama, so I called Papa instead."

Satoru bit the walls of his cheeks.

Fuck... How is this possible? Did the seal got removed? No, Marika mentioned that Kouki barely has cursed energy which means none of them have sensed his curse energy. Satoru examined his son's body with the Rikugan, and the seal placed on his son is still intact.

"Kikufuku did your eyes hurt after that?"

"No Papa, I got a nosebleed but I wasn't scared, I washed it with water then I was fine," Kouki grinned but Satoru can't return a smile.

"Since when did you get nosebleeds?!"

"Just yesterday, Papa are you angry?" Kouki pouted

Satoru loosened his hold on the arm of his son and inhaled a breath. One after another, it seems everything keeps piling up, drowning Satoru alive.

"I'm not, when you see things again or you're in pain you have to tell me, okay?"

"Okay!"

"Promise Kikufuku?"

"Promise Papa."

V.

Satoru has to bring Kouki to Gojo Estate home, you were whimpering from the pain of your contractions and your son wasn't happy seeing you crying. This time he made sure Kouki is safe without a hitch that he called Yuta instead.

You've been in the hospital for a week, they've given you shots for magnesium and steroids. Your water broke by late afternoon. You're now lying on the bed with countless tubes are connected to you, Satoru was there when they inserted a thick 9 cm needle in your spine for the epidural, Satoru fought the urge of throwing up, just thinking of one wrong move the needle will hit your spinal cord.

"She's coming out," you calmly told him and Satoru called in the intercom while holding your dainty hand with his cold ones. After seven hours of active labor, your Little Treasure is ready to go out. "You sure didn't inherit Papa's lateness huh?" You rub your swelling bump.

"Are you in pain? Do you need water?" Satoru whispered as you both wait for the medical staff.

Now he remembers his anxiety when Kouki was born... This time he remembered to eat while you're in labor. He don't want to pass out or anything.

"Nope, it's not as painful than I imagined" you nod and smiled, thanking the epidural for smoothing the pain, you doubt you have the strength to push your baby with anxiety underlying your heart with her early arrival. But compared to your worry of giving birth alone when Satoru was still sealed, your situation tonight is bright and lighter.

The doctor arrived and Satoru was there by your side. Your doctor instructed you while your husband is planted beside you, not moving much of his muscle while offering his hand for silent support.

"Gojo-san please put your hand behind your knees," the ob-gyne told you.

Satoru helps you pull your knees up while holding your hand, rubbing circles as you push. Face flushed red and sweatdrops on your forehead you breathe and pushed again, crushing Satoru's hands while gasping for air.

Contrary to his expectations the birth was quick, you weren't crying or screaming... It was just so smooth that he could hear his daughter's loud cry piercing the room as you slump down and close your eyes.

"I'm gonna put the baby on your stomach," the doctor places the squirming life, wiggling above you.

"Hi, my munchkin," you cooed breathlessly at your baby resting on your stomach with her clear wails.

Satoru since the time he brought you inside the hospital, finally smiled from the bottom of his heart.

"Hi princess," Satoru wraps his arm under yours to support the baby wrapped in a blanket leaning his head against yours while watching the Little Treasure. "You should've at least inherited me being late you know," he laugh and bit his lips gazing at the rosy angel.

She's perfect. My daughter is perfect.

"Thank you, Honey," Satoru nuzzled his nose on your temples after the medical staff carefully handled the fragile sweetheart. When they weighed her she was as expected smaller.

5lb and 17 inches long... She's small as expected but she's more than enough. Satoru is grateful for the doctor and team in charge of you, how confident they are handling the situation. He could tell your anxiety lessened with the staff coaching you and the way they handle his fragile daughter.

"How are you my beautiful treasure?" you mumbled, holding your baby girl on your chest as she revel in your body's warmth. "Your Papa sure outdid me, Kouki onii-chan has the same white hair as you too," you whispered.

Saika's white lashes fluttered open, and blink her bright blue eyes. Making your heart melt as she stare back at you.

Satoru's jaws dropped open as the staffs congratulate you and your beautiful baby. Some even mistook your husband for being a half foreigner.

"Your eyes are like sapphires..." You mumbled, delicately brushing her cheeks. "My Little Treasure..." you hummed as she tried latching on you.

The Little Treasure is born in late June 30... 幸 fortune, happiness 月 moon

"Saika," Satoru muttered. "Fortune and moon... You did a good job of staying with Mama when Papa was away. You even have my eyes!" Satoru smiled at the baby snuggling to your chest,

"Why?" You asked. "Saika?"

"Fortune like her beautiful sapphire eyes and didn't you tell me she was your light in the darkness when I was away? Saika..." Satoru kissed you and look at his daughter, sighing in contentment. "It's not easy but finally, you're with us Little Treasure"

You looked up and nuzzled your nose on the crook of Satoru's neck.

"We should call Kouki onii-chan too, you want that Saika?" You asked softly.

"I'll bring him tomorrow, then we can have our first family reunion of four," Satoru grinned, leaning down to kiss you.

Gazing at each other's eyes who both smiled and laugh. Rubbing your nose against each other's, Satoru nudges the apple of your cheek with the tip of his nose and gives you a quick cheek kiss.

"I love you Y/n," Satoru said softly to your ears.

"Love you too 'Toru."

[A huge thank you to @ice-icebaby, Nee-sama for helping me piece the medical information in this chapter! You're awesome, couldn't have done this better without you!!!]

—GreyCaelum

PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME

Check out the Masterlist for more.

All rights and credits of the Jujutsu Kaisen character(s) mentioned, image(s) and song(s) used belong to their respective owner(s).

General/Kaleidoscope Series Taglist:@ice-icebaby @aeanya @gummy-dummy

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagines #gojo satoru #gojo satoru fanfic #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen satoru #gojo x you #greycaelum #gojo satoru kaleidoscope series #gojo satoru x wife #married gojo fluff #married gojo angst #dadgojo #jjk dad gojo #gojo satoru x pregnant reader #gojo satoru x sweet wife #gojo kouki #gojo saika #gojo satoru headcanons #jjk #jujustu kaisen #jjk gojo angst #jjk gojo fluff #jjk gojo x reader #jjk gojo satoru #satoru gojo #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo imagine

[fict1onallyobsessed]

How'd they react to you getting bitten by an infected.

Includes Ellie, Dina, Abby.

ELLIE WILLIAMS - She was on patrol with you, looking through a library neither of you hadn't come across in a long time. Tommy had found a new trail and you were picked to scout it, but Ellie volunteered to come along after hearing there were many possible supplies on the way. (Plus she wasn't happy with you going alone). Unluckily, you were both ambushed by stalkers.

Fucking stalkers. The crawling corpse took you by surprise when you were running from a couple of clickers chasing you. With a quick grab of your ankle, your face made contact with the floor. The clickers were distracted with Ellie when you fell. Thick, red blood poured from your nose, but all you could feel is the sharp pain of crooked and broken teeth on your shin. Quickly kicking it off, you snatched your gun and shot it three times just to make sure it was dead. The gun's noise rattled through the building and Ellie had no other choice but to shoot them down before the clickers got to you.

Running back to where you fell, she stared in horror at your face before kneeling next to you. Both of you were out of breath, but when you looked up from the bite mark to her eyes, she instantly clicked on.

"No. No, no, no, no, no."

"Ellie-"

"No. Shut up. You'll be okay."

Obviously you weren't, and you can bet your ass she was blaming herself. I mean, after all she did volunteer because she didn't want you going alone. But she went with you, she was supposed to protect you, and she failed. Not to mention the additional guilt of her being immune herself. Regardless if she told you about her immunity, she was still hit with guilt that she would of been able to survive if it was here instead of you. Maybe if she ended up dying on that medical table, you wouldn't of had to be here in the first place.

She let her mind spiral as she looked at your wound. She didn't want you to die. Since Joel, she had finally found the one person that could make her genuinely smile, not just a half-ass smirk now and then. Genuinely smile.

"I'm not leaving you here."

And she didn't. She finally decided to get herself together, to breathe before she sat down next to you let you lay your head on her chest. You sat between her legs, tears streaming down your cheeks as her arms kept you close. She cried too, but she didn’t let you notice. Silent tears flowing down into your coat.

You gripped the bite mark until it started to sting, get redder and worsen with unpleasant looking boils starting to form. The actual transformation into the fungus happened over a period of two days, so you had a few hours to hold each other before you’d started showing signs of distress.

“El- Ellie.”

You stuttered as the bite mark started to hurt even more. She kissed the top of your forehead, humming gently since her throat was too dry to answer.

“You pr- promised. Don’t leave me to turn into those things.”

She closed her eyes, hugging you tighter as the first audible sob left her mouth. She was expecting that from you. You’ve always told her that you never wanted to turn into the fungus if you did get bitten. It always either turned into an argument up until she agreed, finally seeing your side of the whole argument.

To be honest, she only agreed because she didn’t think you’d ever get bitten. Naive, I know. But she promised herself to protect you, no matter what. Regardless if it was her sacrificing herself to cannibals or letting herself get bitten again, she’d do anything.

“I can’t.”

Her voice was uncharacteristically high from the sobs she tried to suppress. It wasn’t easy on her as she watched you weakly reach to the holder on your thigh, pulling out the gun she’d gifted you on your latest birthday. With a quick move, you were already too weak to lift your arms, so you let the gun drop to her side.

“You’ll move on. You’ve got Dina, Tommy, Jessie. They’ll take care of you. Yo- you have to promise me not to shut them out. For me.”

She sniffed a little, giving you a little squeeze to your side before nodding.

“Just let me hold you, please.”

You did, up until you had to weakly beg her to shoot you through yours and her sobs.

DINA - She’s the kind of person to joke until she notices you’re not joking.

“That chase was insane! Have you seen how fast those fuckers ran?”

You listened to her rant as she threw her body onto the couch in Eugenes secret weed bunker. It had been your ‘place’ ever since she and you found it a few months back.

“Dina.”

You gripped your arm, sniffing as you gripped it tighter. For a second, you listened to her talk, enjoying the serenity of the situation, ignoring the pain shooting through your skin. The agony was much worse than you’d imagined, and as much as you wanted to ignore it, it kept coming back.

“…and then the fucking ladder broke- Babe are you okay?”

You opened your eyes, lifting your head from the wall it leaned against and looked at her. Your hand was still holding your arm, blood slowly seeping through the cracks of your fingers.

She slowly looked down at your bloody hand, before sitting up with a blunt on her hand that was now dropping to the floor. She couldn’t believe it. You? Got bitten?

“Jesus.”

She shot up, walking towards you and grabbing your arm to see the bite mark clearer. Her eyes didn’t show any emotion as she breathed in. Without a word, she turned around and grabbed a rag, stopping for a moment to breathe in again, compose herself before she turned around towards you.

“Dina.”

“Please, let me take care of you.”

You nodded, clutching your jaw as she delicately rubbed your small cuts and wounds before getting to the big one. She knew cleaning it wouldn’t so anything, but it gave her a peace of mind that’s she’s taking care of you, even if it was for the last time.

“I’m sorry, love. Just a little more.”

“Dina. Look at me.”

She did, slowly caressing your wrist as she held your arm. With a little hesitation, she looked into your eyes, revealing nothing but sadness covered under the tears that threatened to fall.

“I love you so much. I always have.”

She nodded, sniffing slightly before trying to smile.

“I do too.”

Much like Ellie, she’d hold you as your crying in pain, soothing your skin until you can’t take her looking at you anymore, asking her to do the inevitable.

ABBY ANDERSON - oh boy.

We all know she’s all for revenge, and she’ll have plenty of that once she finds out you were bitten. Not towards you, or herself even, but towards the world.

Why did such a shitty world take out someone so amazing as you. She had prepared herself for this moment many times, whether it was involuntarily, through her dreams, or after the fact where she thought about how to protect you in case her dreams came true. But now she didn’t really know what to do, or what to feel.

You had just found an abandoned building to bunk in until the next day, the sky falling a darker shade every hour as the moon rose brighter ever other.

You fell into a chair with a groan, letting the bag you’d been carrying around fall into the dusty floor boards. Her head snapped to you, what initially was nothing but concentration turned into worry as she watched you unzip your jumped after your bag had fallen.

“Are you hurt?”

“I’m okay.”

“Show me.”

“It’s nothin-”

“Show me.”

You were pretty much fucked now. You’d gotten bitten less than 10 minutes ago after having a 1v1 against a runner, and you were going to tell her after she’d calmed down from the fight. But she noticed faster.

Your eyes remained on hers, watching as she tried to find your wound by herself. You signed, trying to avoid her worried gaze. With a wobbly stand, you kept yourself up using the back of the chair.

You heard her gasp when you turned around, revealing not one, but two small bites on the back of your thigh. They got you when you were climbing the ladder to escape, and it started to sting more and more as you moved.

Regardless of how many times she’d been through what to do in this situation, she froze. Nothing running through her mind. Fingers going numb. Not only does this mean she’s alone again. She’d lose the most important person to her.

“Please, say something.”

You hadn’t noticed the tears rolling down your cheeks until you spoke and heard your broken up voice. Hers wasn’t much better. She didn’t want to watch as the fungus took over your body. She wanted to leave, selfishly. But she couldn’t leave you alone.

“I- um.”

You exhaled shakily, sniffing as you turned back around and sat on the edge of the chair as not to disturb the wounds more. Leaning your elbows on your knees, you sobbed and watched as your tears fell onto the ground.

You hadn’t heard her walk closer to you. But you looked up when you felt a strong hand on each of your knees. Abby, teary eyed looked up at you and gave it the best attempt to smile up at you. It was a rare sight to see. Abby crying.

“Hey. Hey. It’s okay, look at me.

“I’m so sorry, Abby-”

“No. No, look at me, baby.”

You did, weakly hissing and grabbing your leg as it sent a wave of pain through your muscles. Before she said anything else, she grabbed a tourniquet and wrapped it around your leg, stop it from causing you so much pain as you slowly bled.

“You’re okay. Okay? Just keep looking at me.”

Her fingers rubbed your leg comfortingly as she watched your groan in pain now and then. Eventually she sat on the floor, letting you lay on top of her so that whatever you sat on didn’t hurt your wounds more.

She stroked your hair, placing kisses and whispering sweet nothings into your hear. She doesn’t cry until you’re gone, simply because she needed a long time to get over the fact she’d never actually see you again.

THE END

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams imagine #ellie the last of us #ellie williams #ellie x dina #the last of us part ii #dina imagine #dina tlou #dina x reader #abby anderson imagine #abby anderson #wanda maximoff #abby anderson x reader #abby tlou2 #abby tlou #abby anderson one shot #abby wlf #the last of us #abby anderson tlou #tlou part two #tlou x reader #tlou part 2 #jesse tlou #tlou fanfic #tlou part ii #dina #the last of us part 2

[animesugar]

ur obsessed

NSFW// under 18 and ageless DNI

college au, asshole!jean, fem bodied reader

cw// unprotected sex, creampie, power play (but everybody's into it) hatefucking kind of, there's nothing crazy in here but pls lmk if i missed anything

i am down bad for this man and also a good enemies to lovers arc. also this is my first one of these so pls enjoy, it's a little slow angst in the beginning but she picks up don't you worry.

what a stupid smirk. you hated the motherfucker staring at you from across the quad that was doing his best to get a rise out of you, and you had ever since his stupid undercut walked into your freshman dorm as a mid semester transfer 3 years ago. He was a prick through and through, but the kind that a less perceptive person would dismiss as charming, so he got away with it. Always 3 stops past the cutoff between funny and mean, he jaunted around campus like a king, surrounded by a mostly constant gaggle of equally-dickish (but admittedly not as clever) boys and a few token brunettes. You weren’t really sure what had made him single you out that first day to get picked on, and it wasn’t really anything obnoxious. Maybe you just weren’t in the mood to be toyed with. Maybe you didn’t want him to think you were buying into the bit. Either way, rolling your eyes and shoving his bigass head out of your face before he even got a chance to bug you at point blank range had made you antagonist number one in his eyes ever since. For three years, Kirstein comma Jean had been like a single fruit fly that just wouldn't die, buzzing around just enough to never anticipate it but to always be infuriated when it came. Sometimes, it was holding the door just long enough for you to be hit with it when he let go. Sometimes, he would spill your drink at the bar under the auspice of grinding on the girl next to you. Sometimes, it was making sure you never got to keep the same seat in any of the classes you had together, taking whatever desk you seemed to have claimed. Your only form of communication with the enemy was a morse code of eye rolls and scoffs, because you weren't even sure if the ashy-blonde beast could understand human language, so why bother. But this strategy backfired because why would anyone believe that someone who you never talk to is actually antagonizing you on purpose. He’s just popular, your friends would say, so he’s kind of in everyone’s way. He’s just everywhere all the time, it’s not personal. And honestly, they would jeer, you’ve made it clear to him to leave well enough alone. And that was true. Jean certainly wasn’t in any shortage of willing victims for his games. Most girls knew that they had a 6 in 10 shot of the taunting turning into something a little more satisfying, and the rumor was that his after hours performances were worth the price of admission. Anyway, Jean’s grating presence had been a constant in the campus ecology since that fucker stepped foot in your freshmen hall, and while you definitely thought about it a lot, your conclusion was that he was just a cocky, conceited, always-cons-his-way, asshole, and so you had long since squashed any ember of desire to be one of the stupid girls in his bed that played the game.

But then, a few weeks ago, some friends asked you if the rumor was true. You watched their faces twist into a smirk as they interpreted your confused look for feigned innocence. Oh c.mon, Jean!! they drew that little fuck’s name out in a mocking tone, I heard you two fucked in the middle of the quad last night. huh?? Wait, I thought it was the quad last saturday and the back hallway of the student center last night!! What?? Your friends are howling laughing, thinking its just toooo good that you finally broke what they saw as obvious sexual tension. Flustered and beet red, you dart your head around, worried someone else heard these accusations. But then again, after a second you thought your friends were just fucking with you. They had long since decided that the running joke would be you and Jean ever getting together, so you started to relax and felt the blood leave your flushed cheeks as you waited for them to get to the punchline.

Except there wasn’t one.

Well, not for you, anyway. 

Your friends watched the look on your face settle and in turn their eyes widened. Wait, so it’s true? they ask, taking your trust in their comedic timing as a proud guilty plea. “What, no,” you say, “of course not! You guys are just fucking around right? Thats hilarious, me fucking somebody out in the open, let alone him.” You laugh through your sentence and your friends' faces grow apprehensive. uhh, no, we actually heard that from Jean...

“What. what do you mean”

They eyed each other then looked back to you.

“What do you mean Jean told you that”

I mean...  he’s been bragging to everyone about it.

Your head whips back around to the little fuck across the quad that is now starting to walk towards you, raking four lanky fingers through his hair. Goddamn it. holy fuck you hate him. He’s so so just........

What’s a matter?? ask him yourself! They all laughed and started to gather their things, a gesture that on the surface was polite but really they just wanted to watch you confront him with no out. 

As he strode up to the blanket you’d been sunbathing on all afternoon, you finally allowed him the satisfaction of a glance, trying desperately to telepathically tell him that you know his little game and he won’t get his way with you.  You wont get bothered, in fact he can say whatever he likes. You are not stupid enough to be so smitten by an idiot. But, when he dropped down to eye level with you, meeting your glare with a cutting pull at the corner of his mouth, the realization that none of those thoughts had actually reached him hits you.

You roll your eyes, an expected next step in your litany of attempted communication with the enemy, and as you started to get, Jean grabs your forearm with a big hand.

“What, now you’re embarrassed to be here with me? From what I hear it should take a lot more than some spectators to pry you away from me.”

He breaks into a full grin and chuckles to himself, so so pleased with his little joke. 

“Fuck right off, Jean, it’s so embarrassing for you that you’re trying to tell people that.” His face softens a bit but the bite is still there, “Anyway, I would never even dream of fucking you, let alone with potential witnesses.” You yank your arm out of his grasp and stand up, gathering your bag and laptop in a swift motion. Turning, you bend down to grab a fistful of the blanket he’s still pinning down, “Get off my fucking blanket, asshole” you hiss. He chuckles and obliges, standing up and cocking his head to the side, “oh, you’re angrier than I thought you’d be. Well, remember, the number one rule to not getting caught is never return to the scene of the crime, but unfortunately for us,” he looks around and spreads his arms in a sweeping gesture, “we’ve just incriminated ourselves and our actions last saturday.” His grin creeps back full-force as he drops his arms back to his sides. You can only scoff and turn away, making your way back home to the dorms. God, you hate him, you think to yourself. You also hate that his voice is stuck in your head now, and you’re kicking yourself for lingering a little too long on the thought that actually, this is the first time you’ve had a conversation with him.

Over the next week or so the rumors still swirled, but since he had been such a predictable prick to you that day in the quad, you decide to fight fire with fire. Protesting and denying will only make things worse, you reason. Jean was such a manwhore that it was universally and absolutely less likely that he hadn’t slept with someone than that he had, so denying this would be working against the current. No, you think to yourself, I’ll use some leverage. 

Which is how you had decided to start telling anyone who would lend an ear that yes, in fact, you had fucked Jean. And he was terrible. My god, he was the worst fuck you’d had in your life. Was it small they’d ask? And not one to give into the cheap shot, you would assure them that no, it was worse than that. It was long enough, but skinny, and he had no idea how to use it. He fucked like the only porn he watches is women taping hairbrushes to broken washing machines, you told them.

Finally feeling like you had gotten the one up on this little fuck, you spent the next few days happily applying all of the worst hook-up stories you or your friends had to Mr. Kirstein, relishing even more that the risk of vulnerability you had taken was paying off. 

Finishing up a group project in class the next day, you start to pack your things as you put the final details on a new tidbit of Jean’s apparent failings for your group partners.

"Oh yeah," you said, "he was biting at my leg for 10 minutes, apparently he thought I was telling him to stop and move because i was cumming. That motherfucker couldn’t find a clit if it took him by the hand."

Laughing to themselves, your group partners shuffled out with the rest of the class. You had stayed back for a minute to finish an email to the TA, and as you look up to shut your laptop, you see a large, lanky hand shutting it for you.

“So, this is the game we’re playing?” a voice questions from above.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, I’ve just been hearing rumors,” You say in a coy taunt. “Anyway, I need to go, so if you’d please unhand my things I’d really appreciate it.”

“Oh, c’mon, you’re in on it now, let’s workshop some stories together,” Jean says through a shit-eating grin as he replaces your computer with his ass on your desk, “I think we would make a better team than you seem to suggest.”

“Hmm..” you muse, pantomiming deep thought, then turning to him with a glare “Thanks, this actually has given me some ideas. I think i’ll start telling them that you begged like a dog for it. Yeah, I think thats the cherry on top. I can hear the gossip now, ‘Jean Kirstein begs to disappoint.’ Oh yeah, I think thats great.’ You chuckle to yourself as you go to zip your backpack when you feel his hand grab your shoulder.

“Do you really think I’d beg?”

It catches you off guard. the motion, the tone, everything about what Jean just did was loaded. Was this a trick to get you to look like the beggar? Was he actually mad? No, you thought, this felt.....

no, you shook the thought. It didn't matter if it was genuine. It didn't matter if he really wanted to beg you, here and now, to let him fuck you. He was awful, you knew that. You could never forgive yourself for succumbing to him. So you wouldn’t.

“Yeah, actually. I think you’re such a pathetic shell of a man that you would beg. And why wouldn’t I think that? You beg for every scrap of attention anyone gives you.”

He pushes you back, squaring your shoulders off to him as he situates himself on the desk sitting directly in front of you. Your shoulders between his knees, he leans forward and rests his forearms on his thighs, long fingers dangling loosely and grazing your chest.

“I do? You think I beg?’ he asks softly.

Fuck. You sat as still as you could, focusing on steadying your breath and not showing the flush that had just swelled through your cheeks. Staring straight ahead into his abdomen to avoid eye contact, you feel fingertips gently but firmly pushing your forehead back, forcing you to look up at him. Fuck, he’s not letting me hide you think. Goddamnit, this was hot.

But you can’t give up the game. You can’t let him think he’s won.

“God, you fuckin perv. Of course you have to beg. Who would fuck you of their own accord?”

His fingertips fall back down between his knees. He hums then sucks his teeth, “Oh c’mon baby, dont be so mean-”

“Baby?? who the fuck are you calling baby you pretentious little fuck?” you bark at him. The rage you felt towards him had suddenly reappeared in you kind, clearing the fog that his soft touch had created. “Goddamn, I literally can’t even believe you’re trying this right now. Do you really think this is a tease game or something? God, you’re not only horrible in theory, you’re pathetic in person, And that's fucking worse.”

You bite your tongue at that last word. Damn, you really hated him but you didn’t want to stoop to his level and just be fuckin’ mean. The way his face was draining of color made you think you took it too far, and your posture softened, bracing to apologize-

“Say it again”

what? you're speechless for a beat.

“What?”

His pupils start to dilate just enough to notice, and his breath is a little shakey when he asks, “Call me pathetic again, y/n, and maybe i will beg you for it, is that what you want?”

You aren’t sure if he's teasing or begging, but that confusion is allowing the wall that you had pent up any and all desire for him behind to come crashing down. God, he’s terrible, but... You decide to play along like he’s begging, refusing to give him the win of being in control here. Well, thats what you tell yourself, you're honestly so confused about the dynamics in play that your head is spinning. Which is how you got into this situation anyway.

“Yeah, beg for it you pathetic, disgusting fuck. Look at you, panting and pale just from the thought that maybe you’ll cop a feel.”

Something in your mind flips again and all of the rage and annoyances from the last three years flood back to your brain. You hated him. You hated him so so much. He was so mean to you and so obnoxious and everybody loved him and you didn’t get it. And now, you're face to face with your enemy, hurling insults like a firing squad and he's just... taking it.

“y/n, do you really hate me?”

“Yes”

“Fuck” he groans, leaning back on his hands. Now that he wasn’t hunched over, you get a better view of the raging hard on barely contained under his sweats. “You really think about me that much, baby? Enough to hate me?” He stares at the ceiling in deep thought for a moment, then leans back in. “Well I guess that means I was doing something right.” He comes closer to your face and traces your jaw with his thumb, pushing your head slightly to the side. Feeling his hot breath on your ear he whispers, “I guess I will have to beg then, since you hate me so much. Will you let me do that, y/n, will you let me beg?”

Your face is hot and tingling from his touch. It would be so easy to just get up and leave him bothered and embarrassed, and isn’t that what you wanted? It was, you mused, but right now? In this moment, all you want is for him to beg you to let him fuck your brains out. You hate yourself for it, too, are you really that horny that even Jean is making the cut? Or, more horrifyingly, is he actually turning you on? Your internal struggle is cut short by the soft feeling of his teeth grazing your earlobe, and with that your fate is sealed.

“Yes, yes you can beg me for it, Jean” You utter.

With those words, his thumb falls from your jaw down your throat, his fingers following suit and delicately draping themselves on the other side of your neck. He takes a sharp breath, "Please y/n, can i kiss you right here? Please let me, y/n I can barely stand it"

Shuddering and resenting the goosebumps that have trailed his touch, you nod, stifling a whimper. You know that the second you vocalize a response, your lust will be betrayed and he'll know he's won. So you sit there stoically as he runs his lips down your neck, taking in your scent and groaning to himself before he steadies the gentle grip on your neck and lands a soft kiss just below your ear. He continues these little flutters, just the soft touch of his lips and tongue, all the way to your collarbone, where he realizes he's reached the boundary of his request. He drags his lips back up to your ear, and between kisses begs again.

"Please, can I please use my hands y/n? I gotta know if you feel as good as i think, i'm begging you."

The begging is driving you crazy. He looks up at you with half lidded eyes that plead even more desperately than his words.

"Where do you want to use your hands, Jean? Surely you don't think you've begged enough to get anywhere near my cunt, right?" you sneer down at him, putting on your best front and trying to sell that you aren't also aching for him at this point.

He gives you a pathetic look, almost like he's about to cry, and starts to kiss your neck again. "i just need to feel your tits, y/n, i need to taste them, ple-"

you grab a fistful of his hair and make him face you. "Oh, taste? you need to need to be more specific about your requests Jean, you only asked me to use your hands. Why do you deserve to use your mouth anymore, asshole?" The pounding heat growing between your legs is giving you newfound confidence in your harsh words. Fuck, this is so hot, he is so, so hot groveling for you. Was this really the payback for years of torment? No, he's clearly getting off on this too. You saw his dick twitch under the sweats when you grabbed his hair. No this isn't payback this is... this is some sort of sick hatefuck. At least for you. Probably.

"Fuck, baby you're right i don't. I won't push my luck again y/n I can't risk it. Can i just touch them, please?" He whimpers. Releasing the grip on his hair you say yes, and with that he moves from the desk he's been sitting on down to his knees. He pulls you the the edge of your seat by your waist with strong arms. Slipping his hands underneath your shirt you feel that the trail of goosebumps continues to follow his touch down your back then up your stomach. He stops kissing the crook of your neck and lets his breath collect where his lips once were as he unhooks the fasten of your bra, letting it fall slack gently and pulling his hands back to your now exposed chest.

He runs his thumbs over your painfully hard nipples with a look of ecstasy on his face. You can feel that you’ve already soaked through your underwear and he’s barely touched you, Fool, you scolded yourself. I'm a fool for him right now. Your hands instinctively run up his arms, then neck, then through his hair, anchoring themselves there as you pull him closer. “Please” he whimpers, “Please can i kiss them”

“Ye- yes” You breath out, lifting your arms for him as he guides your shirt over your head. With one in his hand and the other in his mouth, he takes your nipple in his teeth and sucks. He circles the other with his thumb, keeping it just as hard as the one he’s moaning into. You cradle his head close to your body, lost in the warm bliss you had been denying yourself all these years. 

“Fuck, baby, they’re so much better than I even imagined” he switches his hand and mouth

“oh, so you’ve imagined this, Jean?”

“mhm” he mumbles into a facefull of tit. He comes up for air, “Fuck, I have imagined taking you every way possible. I need to, baby, please. You’re the only one who makes me beg for you. For your attention, your time, your body. Fuck baby please let me, please.” He’s whining now, looking up at you with pleading eyes and running his hands all down your sides and up your back. That last ‘please’ makes your eyes roll back into your head as your knees spread involuntarily. But you couldn’t give up just yet.

“what exactly are you begging for Jean? You need to- to use your words” You choke out, stifling a moan from his big hands coming back up to your tits like they belonged there.

“Your pussy, baby, fuck I can see how soaked you are through your clothes. I need to play with it, to taste it, worship it, fill it. Fuck y/n please” He really looks like he might cry if you deny him, and the ache in your cunt is driving you to grind your hips against your chair. “please, baby, can I lick it for you? I know you wanna cum, I wanna make you cum baby. Can I please?”

All you can do is nod

He kisses down from your sternum to your stomach and finally the waistband of your pants. “I need you to stand up for me baby. I’m sorry to even ask more of you, but I just need you to help me so I can make you feel good.” He lifts your hips up like he’s helping you to your feet, and once upright he starts fingering the button of your jeans. As he undoes it and pulls down the zipper, a little whimper leaves your lips and draws a breathy chuckle out of him. Fuck, if this is a game, he’s winning you think. Shit.

But you can’t know how close to heaven this is for Jean. God, the thrill of a three year chase, culminating in this. You’re so perfect, so soft to the touch, and so mean when you want to be. He just wanted to prove to you that those things you said about him being a bad fuck weren’t true. He needed you to know that no one could make you feel like he could. And how could they? No one else has been able to keep your attention for as long as he has. He didn’t know why you still let him get a rise out of you, but he was constantly chasing that little rush he got whenever you would spare him a cutting look, eyes like daggers tracing down his skin. You were tantalizing, and you made it so much worse by never playing along. He had to earn your cooperation in his game. And he intended to do just that, fuck, he needed to.

He looks right in front of him to your now naked pussy, having taken off your soaked-through panties with your jeans. Big hands on your ass, he tilts his head up to you, “Thank you, baby, you’re too good to me. Please sit down now y/n, let me make you cum.”

You oblige, knees spread while you lean back into the chair, letting your dripping cunt hang from the edge, ready for Jean’s touch. With one hand on your inner thigh and the other gripping your waist he brought his mouth to your pussy, licking up and down, sprinkling kisses in between to keep you on edge. Dragging his tongue from your ass to your clit, he starts to suck on it and elicits a sharp whine out of you. Already starting to get close, you gasp again when you feel two long, rough fingers tease your hole. 

“Can I please feel it, y/n?” He mutters, basically inaudible because he’s kind of just asking your cunt. 

“Fuck, yes, Jean, just put them in. You taunt me enough anyway, you don’t need to be such a tease,” you huff, rolling your eyes in mock annoyance, a last ditch effort to convince him you need him to beg.

With that, He looks up at you with an evil glint in his eye and buries his fingers in your pussy, curling them up once he’s as deep as he can get to find the spot that will make you yelp. Hearing that he found it, he starts finger fucking you, stroking that little spot every few thrusts. God, he’s gonna make me cum, you think to yourself. But you don’t wanna just cum on his fingers. You wanna cum on his cock. You need to have it in you, especially if it’s anything like you’ve been imagining since you saw the dick print earlier. 

“Please cum for me, y/n, im begging you. I really need to feel you cum on my fingers, fuck.” He pulls his fingers out and pushes them back in.

“Fuck, you’re so so tight."

Out and back in.

“I just need you to cum for me please.”

Out and back in.

“Could you do that? Because I need to fuck you and I need to get you ready for my cock.” He’s whining his pleads over the lewd sound of your wet cunt, and as he’s begging to bury his dick in you he pushes you over the edge. Feeling that you’ve given in to his request as your walls push his fingers out, he stands over you and lifts you up by the waist.

“Fuck, baby, your pussy’s so good and i haven’t even put my dick in yet,” he moans into your ear. “Can I, please? I know I can make you feel even better than you do right now if I can use it. Can I use my cock, y/k?”

“Yes, yes Jean fuck you can use your cock. You can use it however you want” you say, panting. With that, he leans down to kiss you, letting you taste yourself and also letting you realize you haven’t actually kissed him yet. He guides you to the wall, pinning your back against it with his hips and pressing his forearm next to your head. Greedy kisses travel from your mouth and down your neck, interrupted only for him to mutter, “Y/n? can you please pull it out? I wanna feel you hold it.”

“Mhm,” you nod shakily, still recovering from the orgasm. You trace your fingers down his toned stomach to his waistband. Hooking a finger underneath, you pull the elastic out and down, grazing his hard cock as you guide the sweats down his hips. holy shit, he’s big, you realize as you take it in your hand, squeezing a little. 

“Fuck, y/n” he pushed his hips back into you. “Fuck can i put it in?”

“Mhm” you squeak.

He takes his dick out of your hand and into his, guiding it along your soaked pussy before he lines up the tip with your still throbbing hole. Holding it there, he hooks his other arm under your knee, lifting your leg and giving him unobstructed access to the cunt that he's been drunk on the thought of since he sat down on your desk.

You gasp when he pushes in, only the tip at first but, fuck, its enough to make you scream. 

“please, Jean, please all the way” 

“Shh,” he coos from the crook of your neck, “Pussy’s so good and tight, I gotta work my way in.” He says, rolling his hips into you one, two, three, more times until finally you feel his full length. Your hands tangled in his hair, all you can think about is how fucking good he’s stretching you out with his fat cock. Just like he did with his fingers, he pulls his dick all the way out of you before rewarding your soaked hole with a hard thrust back in. Over and over and over. You start to grind your hips into his, greedy for more as you let him wash over your senses.

“Please jean, oh fuck, I’m gonna cum again” you cry.

“Oh, now you’re the one begging, huh?” he’s fucking you like he’s made for you, every thrust more intoxicating than the last as he holds you up against the wall. You’re basically a ragdoll at this point, putty in his hands and he knows it, but he’s just so, so high off your fucked out face, blubbering his name while he strokes your starving pussy.

God, you’re even better than he ever imagined. He could keep this up for hours, a constant back and forth of his begging for you and your begging for him. He keeps his dick deep inside and flexes it, resting his face back in the crook of your neck and feeling you shiver at that little move. 

“God, I could fuck this pussy all day, y/n. Did you know how good you feel? You knew what you were keeping from me, huh? Goddamn” His tone isn’t begging anymore, you notice. It’s dominant and in control, but still just as infatuated with you. Which is just as well, because you don’t have the sense anymore to keep up the facade of needing him to beg. God, all you wanted was for him to use you like this for hours. You had already won, he had to beg to get here. You were just fine to surrender now, and fuck did surrender feel good.

“I want you to fuck me however you want, Jean,” you barely string the sentence together. At that, the evil little glint returns. He lifts you off his cock and bends you over a desk. Expecting his dick again you gasp when its his tongue, stroking the length of your cunt then fucking it. His fingers find your finally-recovered clit and coax another orgasm out of you. Hearing your desperate panting, he grabs your hips and shoves himself back inside.

"I know, baby, it hits all the right places huh?" he groans, "Fuck" He propped his knee on the desk you were sprawled over for better leverage, getting deeper than you thought anyone could. You feel a bite behind your ear and hear him pant through another sting of profanities. He's definitely getting close- his hips start to go crazy thrusting into you wild wild abandon. "oh fuck, jean please, please cum right there!" you beg as he rams into you over and over.

His pace slows as his words start to regain a hint of whine. "yeah?" he says "you gonna let me fill you up, y/n? i fucked you good enough that you'll let me do that?"

"y-yes, ill let you, Jean, you can fill me, you e-earned it" His dick was taking such soft strokes in and out of your sensitive pussy, and you feel him flex inside you again. "ah, fuck, jean-" you couldn't even finish your exclamation as two fingers suddenly found their way into your mouth while you felt your cunt get filled.

"you like getting two holes full? hmm? maybe next time ill fill all three for you" He slides out of your stretched hole and pulls you back to sit on his lap. Looking up at him, feeling his cum leak out of you, you can't believe you ever denied yourself this. But, you were glad that you made the man who was giving you a stupid, pussy drunk smirk beg for it.

#aot smut #fanfic #reader insert #snk x reader #aot x reader #jean kirstein #jean kirschtein smut #jean kirstein x reader

[donutloverxo]

His queen

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

Note - An anon asked for an au sequel to first night with no stucky but this can be read as a one shot. Thanks to lizzygal(link to ao3) for her advice on this! This is written for @sweetlyscared's 1k angst challenge! Congrats boo! I used the prompt 'Do you love her?' Although this is hardly angsty but it's as angsty as someone as soft as me can get🥺 Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Summary - Married life with Steve was amazing (although with a few bumps in the way) until you discovered a heartbreaking secret.

Warnings - explicit sexual content, painful sex, innocent naive insecure reader, dub con/noncon, soft dark Steve, jealous Steve, ooc villain Sharon, like a little breeding kink, some angst.

Pairing - soft dark king!Steve x reader

Word count - 5.3k

Steve jolted when your palm hit him across his face, his hand circled around your wrist, ready to fight whatever it was that slapped him off, his grip loosening when he realised it was just you. You wiggled your hand away from his grip, mumbling incoherently before turning away from him, so that he could only see the silhouette of your nude back in the dim light.

Although he had been with a handful of women, he never had to share a bed with one. He didn’t think he’d ever have to, he was born in royalty, raised to be a king. While he liked having your soft warm body in his arms, he maybe could live without your hands slapping him, or both your legs over his thighs and hips.

It was customary for wives to have their own chambers after the honeymoon period was over. And with a heavy heart he had sent you to your own chambers, he made sure you were treated to the best luxuries possible.

But he found himself missing your presence soon enough. Your legs over his, you annoying him for attention whenever he was working, the way you hummed a song in your head, how you often clumsily bumped into things, your sweet beautiful voice, your scent, everything about you.

So he went to your room, told you that you were to live with him in his chambers from then on. You were hesitant at first, but didn’t say no to him.

You could never deny him anything. He loved that about you. How subservient you were despite being so fiery.

He was grateful to have made you move in, in times like these, when his cock was hard and achingly pressed against your thigh, he had you right where he wanted you.

He softly called out your name, he’d rather have you awake for this. He loved listening to the sweet sounds he could pull out of you. When you didn’t so much as stir he decided he would just have to wake you up another way.

Pushing your legs off his, spreading them apart to make room for him as he hovered over you, pressing soft kisses, rubbing his beard against your skin, he made his way down to his destination, he was parched for your nectar.

He kissed your petal, your cunt already oozing with need, your body would always want him even if you weren’t awake. He frowned when you didn’t move at all. He had been a bit too rough with you that night, exhausting you, making you pass out as soon as he was done, but he was growing more and more impatient.

Scraping his teeth over your clit, he bit it ever so lightly as you yelped awake.

“Oh!” you gasped when you looked down to find the king between your legs.

Swallowing a lump, because this was still so very strange to you. Your mother had told you how a man and woman make love before your wedding, but she never mentioned anything like this.

From your knowledge the king putting his mouth there wouldn’t result in you getting pregnant. But it did bring you great pleasure, to the point where it was maddening.

Sometimes it was the only thing on your mind.

It was as if you were addicted to it.

“My king...” you squirmed when you felt him push his fingers inside you, “I’m so tired... I have court tomorrow...” How he managed to do all his duties and still have you at least thrice everyday was beyond you.

“You don’t have to go. You’re the queen, the future mother of my children, you deserve a day off. Besides I do work you a bit too hard, don’t I?” he asked before plunging his tongue into your heat.

“Huh? No... I’m glad to be serving you...” And you had yet to give him any heirs.

It wasn’t long before you released all over his mouth, your cheeks heating up when you saw his beard coated with your slick as he wiped it off with the back of his hand.

“You can stay in bed all day tomorrow. That way you’ll be strong and ready by the time I’m back.” He told you before capturing your lips in a bruising kiss, as you tasted yourself on his mouth.

Turns out a day off was everything that you had needed. You were born a princess, albeit of a kingdom standing on its last legs, you were the youngest of six sisters, your prospects weren’t all that great.

Your mother told you that you’d be lucky to get a rich lord, let alone a Duke or a prince. A King was out of the question. She taught you how to handle a household, she never could’ve prepared you for court or to be a queen. You always dreamt of marrying for love. Of running away after falling for a stable boy and living far away and being free.

But you married the King of the most prestigious kingdom in the whole world. While you had grown to love Steven, you didn’t love all the responsibilities that were thrusted upon you so suddenly, you didn’t like how you were always under scrutiny. Every move you made was watched and judged by others. You still couldn’t believe your life sometimes.

So it was nice to have a day to yourself. You had slept in till late in the morning, having your breakfast in bed before taking a leisurely bath and then decided to go for a walk in the garden just before the sunset before you’d have to go back up and have dinner with your husband before having to perform your wifely duties.

“Your grace,” you smiled upon hearing the familiar voice, turning around to see Lady Sharon approaching you.

You hadn’t seen her in over a month. She had been so kind to assist you and help you get acclimated to your duties, you’d always be grateful to her.

“I thought you were under the weather,” she frowned. It was the excuse you had given to skip court with your ladies that day. Which wasn’t a complete lie. You were a little sore between your legs. But a warm bath had fixed that.

“I’m feeling quite better,” you said, standing upright, a dignified smile on your face--formal and curt.

Always be formal and curt with everyone. Your instinct was to hug her when you saw her after her month long trip, like you would to any of your sisters or friends, but you must always act like a queen since you were one.

“How was your trip?” you asked her as she hooked her arm in yours so you could both resume walking.

“It went alright. Mama wants to marry me off to the Duke Stark, the trip was some sort of matchmaking ploy,” she snorted.

“What’s wrong with Stark? He seems so charming.” You remember meeting him at your coronation ceremony. Where he had got you beautiful pearls from an exotic country.

“He maybe charming, but at the end of the day - he’s manwhore.”

You gasped incredulously, your hand over your mouth as you looked around to make sure your maids didn’t hear you, “Lady Sharon,” you chastised her, “We can’t use that sort of language.”

“Forgive me, your grace,” she apologized, “I often forget how naive you are.”

“What? Naive?” you huffed. “Not using such filthy language hardly makes me naive.”

“Live a little, all royals are debauched in one way or another. I’m surprised to see just how much of a square you are.”

“Is... is being a square a bad thing?” You wanted to know. You never thought of yourself as a conformist, in fact your mother used to tell you you’ll die an old maid if you didn’t start acting more like a lady and less like a spoilt brat.

“Sometimes it is...” she pondered. “Well, for instance, being a square in bed might be boring for some men.”

“What?” you gasped again. Tightening your grip on her arm and walking at a faster pace to put some distance between you and your maids, “Give us a minute,” you told them.

“Lady Sharon,” you looked into her blue eyes, much like your husbands but a little darker, “Have you ever been with a man?”

“I have,” she shrugged. “Just the one. He was my true love.”

“Bu – but you aren’t married.” You frowned.

“So?”

“So, how can you make love to anyone if you aren’t married...” Your mother had told you that making love only ever happened between a man and his wife.

“I... you do know what making love entails right? This is what I meant when I said you were too much of a square,” she chuckled.

“Don’t... don’t make fun of me...” you pouted.

“I’m sorry, your grace, it’s just,” she put a hand over her mouth as she cleared her throat, “Really funny. Two people, who aren’t married, can make love. Being married is good but not a requirement.”

“I suppose that makes sense, me and his majesty could do it even if we weren’t married...”

“Is he happy with you?” she wanted to know.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just, you don’t know much about physical relations, and there needs to be a certain level of knowledge and experience for it to be good at it.”

“Do you think he is unsatisfied with me?”

“I wouldn’t know,” she shrugged. “Does he seem unsatisfied?”

He was always asking for it. Which you preferred, because you’d die of embarrassment if you ever had to initiate it. You couldn’t go for too long without it either. He had went on a hunting trip for just a couple of days and you wanted to jump on him and keep him in your bed as soon as you saw him.

Why would he ask for it again and again if he was satisfied?

“I’m not sure... since you know so much about it would you give me some advice?”

“My, I would’ve thought you’d call me a harlot or a whore instead you’re asking for advice...” she smirked.

“Oh, I would never. That is what my mother would say, probably, but you’re my friend. Besides, I would want to make love to Steve even if we weren’t married, and if he was a stable boy.”

“A stable boy?” she quirked a blonde brow.

“Yes! And I would be me, a princess. It’s just a silly dream I used to have,” you shrugged. “What happened to your love? The one you lost?”

“He got married to someone else,” she stated. And although she was firm and sophisticated as always, you could hear his voice wavering and how much pain she was in.

“Oh my... I am so sorry, Sharon,” you said, engulfing her in a hug to comfort her, now that you do actually love someone, now that you know what loving someone deeply means, how overwhelming it can be, you couldn’t even imagine what losing that love would feel like. “You’ll find someone better.”

“There is no one better, your grace. But I’ll give you some advice,” she pulled away from you, putting some distance between you both, “You have to pay special attention to his balls. Many ladies tend to forget them.”

“Ball...? Like toys? I don’t believe he has any.”

“Your grace,” she rolled her eyes as she snickered, “He does have them. That is where your children will come from.”

“Um... what? Wouldn’t they come from...” you looked down, to the place between your legs. That’s where kids come from. That’s what you had been told.

“Well, yes, that is where they will pop out of. But the balls... the ones right behind his manhood, that’s where his seed comes from.”

“Oh...” you nodded as you realised what she was talking about. “So... what about the... balls?”

“Just pay special attention to them. He would like that. Suck on them, tug on them... but gently!” she chuckled as she realised she would have to talk down to you since you were so inexperienced.

“Oh... alright... anything else I can do?”

“Try to be more... active... instead of just sitting there and taking it you know?”

“Alright. I think I get the gist of it.”

“You ready for me, petal?” Steven asked as he looked down at you, naked and vulnerable, so beautiful and all his. He nudged his cock against your intimate lips, prodding at your entrance as he awaited your answer. He knew he could be too much for you sometimes, he was trying to do better. So he could make you love him at least half of as much as he loves you.

“Mm-hm... but um...” you trailed off. Not exactly knowing how you would go about asking to suck his balls.

“What?”

“I was just wondering if... I could... do that...” you fluttered your lashes, that usually got you whatever you wanted from him.

“And what is ‘that’?”

“You know... when you make me put my mouth on you...”

He didn’t usually make you use your mouth.

Most of the times Steven had a strict unofficial schedule he followed when it came to lovemaking. He wasn’t someone who liked or embraced change, he was always strategic, as a king and as your husband.

He’d kiss you till you were out of breath, then your neck, and then your breasts, he’d spend a long amount of time there, maybe because you liked that the most probably. And then he’d use his fingers to work you up, tasting you, eating you out and drinking your nectar.

That drove you mad, till you were on the brink of insanity.

You loved it as much as you hated it. You had never felt so out of control in your entire life. Not even when your parents told you they were going to marry you off to a kingdom far away, to a man you had never even met before.

Steven would complain that you thrashed and moved around too much, although he would encourage you to make all the noise that you wished. He pinned you down by your hips. Sometimes he’d make you make once, twice, thrice, it depended on how desperate he was to get his own release.

And then he’d have you on your back. Whispering the filthiest things to you as he fucked you, filled you up with his seed.

He’d hold you close to him, kissing your hair, kissing your cheeks and touching your ever so intimately. That was when you were the most clingy, you’d hold on so tightly to him. You were more vulnerable than usual. You would tell him about how, even though you love being the queen and his wife, it was so new and overwhelming, how you miss your family and your old life. How things had changed and so drastically. He’d always tell you that it would all be okay. That he would take care of you and never let anything bad ever happen to you.

Then he’d have you on your hands and knees. He told you he liked looking at your behind and spanking it.

After that you’d both fall asleep. Sometimes he’d wake up in the middle of the night and nudge you awake to love you some more. But he rarely ever made you suck him off.

“You wanna suck my cock?” he smirked as you meekly nodded. “Go right ahead then, petal. It’s all yours now, you don’t have to ask,” he told you as he sat up on his knees.

You looked at his cock. Hard and standing tall and proud up against his stomach. You now knew that being aroused made him hard and much much bigger. Maybe that’s why it’s often such a tasking job to take him--often leaving your cunt so sore.

Soft dark golden hair, much like that of his beard, and then you noticed them. His twin balls.

You took a deep breath as you took him in your mouth, suckling on his head, following your instincts and what he had taught you.

Your hand coming up and cupping his balls, massaging them gently in your hand. You stopped when you felt him go stiff.

Pulling his cock out of your mouth you looked up at him. “Did I do something wrong?” as you wiped your spittle and his preejaculate off your mouth.

“No,” he shook his head. It wasn’t often that he was stunned. Not ever really. But you, taking that kind of initiative, to touch him without him asking for you to, did shock him just a little.

He held onto the back of your head, bringing his balls just next to your mouth, against your soft lips, “Suck on them,” he told you.

You suckled at one, working the other one with your hand as he pulled at the roots of your head.

“Fuck! Stop!” he heaved, pulling you away, “I have to save it for your beautiful cunt, my queen,” he told you as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead before he pushed you back down on the mattress.

Swiftly entering you, you were still as tight as the night of your wedding, which meant he had to be patient while fucking you, and he tried. He really did. But he was not a patient man. Especially not when you had just put your mouth on him and worked your magic in mere seconds.

He put most of his weight on you as he slowly pushed in and out of you, your face scrunched up in pleasure as you dug your nails into his shoulders.

With your pussy hugging him so well, almost as if it was made for him, as if you were made by the gods just for him.

“What have you done to me?” he rasped, touching his damp forehead to yours. You had weaved some sort of magic on him, making him crazy for you. Now it was hard to tell where he ended and you began.

You pressed a hand against your mouth to stop from giggling or making any sort of noise. Resting your back against the cool surface of the throne. You chose the back of the throne in the court as your place of hiding. Maybe it wasn’t the most strategic ploy but you were playing against a six year old.

Lila Barton had asked to play hide and seek with you. Only to receive a scolding from her nanny--to not bother the queen with such trivial matters.

It was as if you were reliving your childhood. You always felt you were made to grow up and be a lady too fast. With your mother and sisters telling you how important it was to act mature and be a lady, or you wouldn’t be able to marry well. Or marry at all.

So you jumped at the first opportunity to play with the kid. Making her count to twenty before looking for a place to hide. You had to go get your lessons for sewing so you didn’t have a lot of time, you hoped she would find you soon.

“But you’re not even considering it!”

You perked up when you heard the familiar voice, it was Lady Sharon! You had to thank her for all her advice, things had been going great with Steven ever since you listened to her. He had been opening up to you as well, although he was still as voracious in his love making. If anything... he wanted you even more now. Which you didn’t think could even be possible.

But some part of you absolutely loved it. And you knew you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You peaked out to see her, to maybe call her to join you on the floor, hiding behind the large throne. You frowned when you saw that she was holding onto Steven’s arm, looking up at him with a certain desperation in her eyes.

“There is nothing to consider. I’m a married man. It would be adultery – a crime,” he stated.

“Bu – but you promised, you told me you didn’t love her. You said you didn’t have any other choice. I’m not asking you to leave her for me, I know that’s not possible. I’m not a fucking idiot like her.”

You slapped a hand over your mouth again to keep your sobs in, tears streaming down your face as you watched your husband, and his lover, have a lovers quarrel.

You couldn’t hear any more of it. Couldn’t bear it breaking your heart anymore than it already had. You quickly got up, fleeing out of the room by the back entrance - which the servants often used.

“You watch your mouth when you speak of the queen,” he yanked his arm free of her, putting some distance between himself and her, “I didn’t make any promises like that. I told you I intended to be faithful to her even if I didn’t love her.”

He knew it was a mistake to ever get involved with Sharon. He never wanted to be a womanizer. But he had his needs. He didn’t think she would become so obsessed with him. He had broken off their short fling as soon as he became betrothed to you.

He felt responsible for all the rumours about him and her and her ruined reputation. So he had arranged for her to marry his good friend Stark but she had her mind set on him.

“I like the queen. She’s a good friend of mine. I don’t intend to replace her,” she explained. She had no interest in being a queen and having such tedious and boring responsibilities anyway—the power and the status that came along with it just wasn’t worth the hassle. She pitied you and how you just weren’t made for the job.

“But she can’t satisfy you, she can’t give you what you need-- What I can give you,” Being the Kings mistress would probably be better than being a Duchess and marrying some boring old man.

“Won’t you even think about it?”

“No I won’t. And you are to never speak of this again,” he warned her.

“Your grace...” Lydia was completely confused. Standing there with your dress in her hands as you frantically stuffed your clothes in a chest.

She had never seen two people as in love as you and the king. When she first met you, it didn’t seem as if you and Steven would make a good couple. She assumed your marriage would be like any other she had seen. Cold and distant.

Steve had never been smitten with a woman, she always felt there maybe something wrong with him. But he had grown so fond of you in such a short time. Even going as far as asking you to live with him in his chambers. Having the king around often made her duties to you challenging. But she was happy for you.

“I don’t understand. What wrong? Why do you want to leave so suddenly.” Does the king approve of your sudden departure? If not would she get in trouble for it?

“He lied to me,” you sobbed. “I thought--” you let out a hiccup.

“Calm down,” she said as she rubbed your forearms. She wasn’t afraid to touch you in such friendly ways, you weren’t as stuck up as most royals.

You took a deep breath as you tried to explain to your handmaiden why you both had to leave as soon as possible. Before Steven gets back. You’ll move all your things to the room you were supposed to live in and just lock him out of your chambers.

“I would’ve been fine living on my own. Just being a wife and a queen. But he made me believe... that we could be more. That he loved me. It’s not true,” you shook your head. “He lied. He has another lover.”

“Oh,” she let out. She was disappointed on your behalf but not surprised. It would be strange if the king didn’t have any other lovers. “I’m sorry, your grace.”

“I’ll be fine,” you sniffled. “This'll be a good lesson for me. My mother always told me I have my head in the clouds and should live in reality. That’ll teach me to dream.”

It was almost funny for her to watch you babble nonsense, stable boys, princesses and backstabbing friends, take a break to cry your heart out and then resume packing and trying to order all the other servants.

“What’s going on here?”

Everyone stopped moving as soon as they heard the kings voice. He of course looked at the Lydia for an explanation.

“The queen wants us to...”

“I’m moving back to my old chambers,” you briskly walked to him, standing right in front of him, looking him in the eye. He was much taller than you, making you crane your neck to actually get a good look at him, but you still tried to look intimidating and confrontational.

“Why?” he frowned. “Put everything back just as it was,” he ordered everyone.

“No!” you stomped your foot, looking very much like an indignant child who had his toy taken away, than a queen, “Don’t! We’re moving!” But of course nobody would listen to you over Steven. Not just because he was their king, but also because he was much more intimidating than you.

“Stop it!” he reprimanded you. “Whatever troubles you may have, we can sort them out together, but you are not moving back. And that’s the end of that.”

“No! I’m leaving! I’d like to see you try to stop me!” You hmphed. Pushing past him and making way for the door. You didn’t need to take your things with you now, you could just send for them later.

You screamed bloody murder when you felt Stevens arm around your stomach, as he threw you over his shoulder in the blink of an eye, “HELP!!” You yelled at the guards and your maids, who didn’t want to get involved, quickly scurrying out of the room.

“Ring the bell if you need anything, your grace,” Lydia said on her way out to you before she closed the door. It didn’t seem as if the king intended to do any real harm to you so she wasn’t that worried about you.

You kept on hitting his back, thrashing around his hold to break free, “Put me down!”

He threw you on your marital bed, his fingers making quick work of ridding him of his clothes so he could show you how he was just never going to let you go.

“Why do you even care? If I leave or not? You can just call for your lover!”

“My lover?” he frowned as he tried to push your skirts up your legs, which was proving to be a difficult task. Maybe he should’ve asked the maids to undress you before making them leave.

“Do you love her?” you asked, looking up at him and stopping your futile resistance for a few moments, your lips wobbly as you felt your vision blue with tears. You were born a princess, living a relatively sheltered life, never knowing pain so unbearable. As if you would never recover from this, you would never be the same.

You would never believe in love again.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about, petal,” he said, getting frustrated with all the buttons and ties on your dress and ripping your skirt apart. Which he regretted, just a little because you started crying again.

“No! I like this dress.”

“I’ll buy you another one. I’ll buy you a hundred more.” He said as he hovered over you, diving in to kiss your beautiful lips and make you stop saying such preposterous things.

You sniffled as you tried to push him away, making him gather your wrists in one hand and pinning them above your head.

“Stop it,” he told you. “When will you understand that you belong to me now? If I say you have to live with me, here, then that’s what you’ll do.”

“I’m not your slave,” you retorted as you tried to wiggle your hands out of his grip.

“Stop listening to rumors! There are plenty going around. I do not have a lover.”

“No. I saw it with my own eyes. You and Lady Sharon. Just this afternoon.”

“What did you see?”

“I... she said she was your lover...?” You tried to think of what exactly had been said between them. But you couldn’t remember. You were blinded by your fury and your sorrow.

“We used to be lovers, before you and I ever met, but not anymore. I could never think of another, I could never love anyone else,” he said softly as he touched your cheek with his other hand, “You want to know why?”

“Why?” you pouted, feeling a little stupid now.

“Because you’ve ruined me, my queen. You’ve made me a lovesick fool. I could never love anyone else the way I love you. Do you want to know how much I love you?” he asked as you meekly nodded.

Pulling his cock out of breaches, he pushed your skirts up, exposing your thighs to him, he rubbed his cock along the slick of your pussy.

“Did fighting with me make you wet, my queen?” he asked, making you avert your gaze.

“I...” it was the way he had simply thrown you around, how he just wouldn’t let you leave, “Maybe...”

“Hm, don’t start picking fights with me for no reason though. My poor heart won’t be able to bear it,” he cooed as he kissed your cheeks, wet from your tears. “You look beautiful when you cry, love, but I only want you crying when I’m fucking you, you understand?”

“Yes...”

He pushed inside you, you were tighter than usual, it was difficult to even properly enter you. The pain of it of course made you cry again. You sobbed into the crook of his neck as he shushed you.

“You feel my love, darling,” he asked as he was buried to the hilt inside you, “I’ll give you a child soon enough. Then you’ll have a living breathing proof of it,” he whispered in your ear as he started steadily moving, making sure that he won’t hurt you.

“I wish... I was your one and only... like you are mine,” you sniffled as you held on to him, soon it is wasn’t hurting as much, it was a little uncomfortable but you could bear through it.

“You are my one and only. You’re the only woman I have ever loved. Do you love me, petal?”

He looked down at you, wanting you to say it. He needed you to love him, for you to say it to him, he needed to know you weren’t here just because you were scared of him.

“I love you, Steve,” you sniffled, rubbing your runny nose with the back of your hand.

He smiled at you, his hand trailing down both your bodies as he twisted your pearl between his fingers.

“It’s okay... it’s okay...” He kept telling you as you screamed at the top of your lungs, your climax making your mind and your vision fuzzy.

“I’m going to fill you up, petal,” he told you as he finished inside you, staying inside you for a long while after he was done just to make sure you knew how he belonged to you just as much as you belonged to him.

#sweetlysad1kchallenge #steve rogers x reader #chris evans x reader #steve x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers x you #marvel x reader #avengers x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #king!steve x reader #king!steve rogers x reader #king!steve rogers

[mackenzielovee]

hiiiii angel!

I have a request for rafe x reader x jj.

In which Barry uses the reader as a collateral after rafe accumulates late payments for the substances he consumed and jj steals the 25K from him. The reader has been hanging out with both boys since she has a strong connection with both. Barry has been watching them all three interact over the last month and finds the reader as the perfect way to make them pay for their mistakes. Barry confronts both boys and right when he’s aiming to shoot the reader either JJ or Rafe get in the way and take the shot instead ( you can choose who) and the other boy promises to take care of the reader and protect her from all dangers. Meanwhile the other one is bleeding himself to death while giving his life for reader. This idea was so random but I’m so obsessed!!! Please please please! I’m so excited it would mean the world to me<3

a/n: hey baby! thank you so much for this request. I actually loved writing this and i hope i did it just the way you wanted! please let me know if you enjoyed it! ily<3

Warnings: swearing, talk of drug abuse, gun play, gun fire, blood, mentions of death,

Word Count: 5.5k

my writing

protection - rafe cameron

It's a warm day out on the Cut. As you walk through the tall grass and slap away a mosquito that landed on your arm, you think about how JJ is going to want to swim once you get the boat out into the water, and you forgot your bathing suit. You hope Kie has one that she left over at John B's, maybe you could steal it.

Faintly, you hear the hum of a dirt bike as it gets closer to you, but you think nothing of it. You're holding a six pack of JJ's favorite beer in your hand, excited to get the day started. You, JJ, John B, and Sarah all planned to take the boat out for a joyride and a day on the water. Kiara's working and Pope is preparing for his scholarship interview, an excuse that made JJ call him a nerd.

You hear the bike start to approach you, so you turn to see who it is. You've never seen anyone with a bike this close to John B's house. You don't recognize the guy under the helmet, but you don't really have time, because he pulls the bike in front of you and stops, scaring the shit out of you.

"Hey there, sweetheart," you hear, and immediately know the voice of the slimy drug dealer himself.

Barry removes his helmet and smirks at you, eyeing you up and down. You look disgusted with him, not sure what he wants with you but knowing you want no part of it.

"Get out of my way, Barry," you snap.

Barry's an asshole, always has been. One of your other good friends, Rafe Cameron, buys coke from him on the regular. You've been trying to get Rafe off of it and even went so far as to see Barry to get him to stop selling to Rafe, but it didn't work out. Barry just called you 'princess' a lot and then told you he'd lose a fuck ton of money if Rafe ever gets clean.

"I'm afraid I can't do that," Barry laughs, but it's sarcastic, "Are those beers up for grabs?"

You instinctively pull your occupied hand back, away from him so he can't grab it.

"No," you say, trying to side step him. He hops off his bike and walks in front of you, quickly boxing you in.

"Listen, sweetheart, it's nothing against you. But I'm gonna need you to get on the bike," Barry's voice is thick, making you swallow your anxiety.

You wonder if you screamed for JJ, would he hear you? Or would Barry rip your throat out before any noise even came out?"

"Not a chance," you reply, trying to keep yourself calm.

Barry snickers, then brings his beady eyes back up to yours. He steps closer, making you step back, until your back hits the bike and you had no way of getting away from him.

"I'm gonna say it one more time," he tells you, "And then it might have to get ugly. Get on the fuckin' bike."

Your heart is beating a mile a minute with no idea what this man wants with you or where he's taking you, but you know better than to go anywhere with him. You shake your head, sure words will fail you right now. Barry just sighs, then reaches up to his back and pulls a gun out from his pants. The beers fall from your hand to the ground, splitting open and spilling out on the ground.

"Oh, now, that's just a big waste," Barry uses the gun to point down at the beers, "Get on the goddamn bike. Now."

You don't see any other option; essentially it's live and get on the bike, or die right here, less than half a mile from John B's. You can already imagine the memorial JJ will build for you when they find out this is the spot you died in. Somehow, it comforts you. Only a little.

"Why are you doing this?" you ask him quietly as you turn to face the bike.

Barry watches as you sit down on the back of his bike, then uses the gun to slowly stroke up your bare thigh. You can smell his breath as he leans in to speak to you.

"Your boys both owe me. Big time. So, I'm taking the one thing I know they'll pay good money for," he smirks, then hands you his helmet, "Don't want you to get hurt, sweetheart."

You want to throw up every time he calls you that, but instead, you grab the helmet from him and put it on. You look back, hoping maybe, for some reason, JJ had wandered out and would just so happen to see you. All you see is trees. Barry hops on and starts up the bike, then turns back to you again.

"Now, you're supposed to hold on here," he tells you, wrapping your arms around his waist, "But if you feel so inclined to move your hand a little south of that, well, I don't mind at all."

You gag and loosen your grip on him as much as you can, not wanting to touch him any more than you have to. He starts up the bike just as his words sink into your mind. Your boys both owe me. What does that even mean?

Barry takes off, not bothering to go any slower with you. It's a pretty short ride back to his place, but feels longer to you because of how sick you feel. Every thought goes through your mind; he's taking you back here so he can kill you in private, he's going to rape you, sell you to some old Kook who will keep you in the basement. All sorts of things you think of, none of them good.

When you get back to his house, he stops the bike and you immediately jump off. So does Barry, who winds up just throwing the bike down in the grass. You throw the helmet down too, not caring if he wanted you to do that or not.

"What are you talking about?" you snap, watching Barry act surprised by your outburst, "Who owes you money? What boys? Why me?"

Barry rolls his eyes and shakes his head, then reaches over and grabs onto your wrist. You try to pull away, but his grip is firm.

"Don't fucking start that shit with me," he snaps at you, "Get in the house."

His tone scares you, and even though you know you shouldn't, you obey. You just want to know why you're here and what the hell is going on.

You walk up the stairs to the porch and sit down on the couch, the same one Rafe sits on every time he buys from Barry.

"Tell me what's going on," you say once you're seated.

Barry picks up a blunt from the table and lights it up, silently holding it out to offer you some. You shake your head and scrunch your nose up, disgusted with it. That makes Barry grin.

"Rafe owes me money," Barry states simply.

You raise your eyebrow, "So?"

Barry looks over at you, giving you the 'are you serious?' look. He sits down in the chair beside the couch, taking a long drag off his blunt before he speaks again.

"So," he says, "Did you know JJ stole 25k from my house?"

Your expression falters and your jaw drops, telling Barry you know nothing of it. That almost makes him feel guilty for scaring you so bad back there, if you were totally innocent. But he needs his money, and you're his one way ticket to it.

"JJ wouldn't do that," you say, not being able to stop the hesitation in your voice.

"Really?" Barry snickers, "Well, he did. And since both of them boys seem to be wrapped around your little finger, you and I are gonna become best friends until I get my money. Understand, sweetheart?"

You glare at him, now understanding what he wants with you.

"So, I'm just collateral," you confirm, watching Barry's lips turn up around his blunt when you speak.

"Exactly," he smiles, "Now. Do you have your phone with you, or did you drop it when you spilled my beers?"

You huff at him and roll your eyes, then lean over in your bag and pull it out of the front pocket. Barry snatches it quickly, then asks you what your code is. You tell him, knowing if he can just get the boys here fast, you won't have to be alone with him anymore.

"Should I send them a picture of you holding up a newspaper? Don't they do that in all the hostage shows on TV?" Barry laughs to himself, looking up at you for confirmation.

You shrug, not wanting to speak to him any more than you have to. Barry rolls his eyes.

"Them boys really put up with that attitude?" he snaps at you, "Goddamn, I could never. You better straighten up, honey."

You just stare at him, deciding it's best if the two of you don't speak. Barry hits send and then tucks your phone in his pocket.

"That should send those two idiots running," Barry laughs, taking another hit from his blunt and then looking over to you again, "You sure you don't wanna try this? Might help you fucking relax."

You glare at him once again and then shake your head, looking away from him. You can tell out of the corner of your eye that he stands up, but when he grabs your chin and forces you to look over at him, you gasp.

"Straighten out, or I'll do it for you," he says, then roughly releases you.

You sigh and sit back on the couch, praying that at least one of the boys will arrive soon. Barry sits back down in his seat and tries to strike up a conversation, pretending he hadn't just manhandled you.

"So, which one are you gonna choose?"

Your head snaps over as you stare at him, trying to figure out what the hell he's talking about.

"What?" you ask, your voice giving away your confusion.

"You know," Barry shrugs, "They're both, like, crazy in love with you. So, if I have to shoot one to teach the other a lesson, which one would you pick?"

You roll your eyes, "You're fucking crazy."

Barry leans forward and stares at you, blunt hanging from his lips. He slams his hand down on the table in front of you, trying to get your attention.

"They stole from me," he shouts now, "Both of them. Someone's going to fuckin' pay for that."

You just nod your head, hoping he'll just shut up now. You don't want to talk about how they stole or Barry teaching either of them a lesson. You just want to go home. You should've never been walking by yourself in the first place. Then again, you never dreamed some psycho with a gun would come along.

"I think it'll be JJ," Barry continues, "You seemed pretty bummed on Cameron when he refused to quit his shit. But, you know, take your pick. Drug addict or thief. Man, it's like the Bachelor or some shit up in here."

Your eyes roll so far back into your head that you swear you can see your brain. When you look over at him, he's still laughing at his own joke.

"They're going to pay you back, and then you're never going to see any of us again," you say confidently. Barry just laughs.

"Yeah, okay, sweetheart."

You look over form the porch when you hear a noise, then sigh with relief when you see Rafe's truck pull up. He's driving fast, too fast, and he hops out of the truck the second he gets within running range of the porch. He doesn't even bother to close the door behind him.

You try to stand and go out to him, but Barry grabs your arm and keeps you down on the couch.

"Easy," he tells you, reaching behind him and pulling out his gun. He sets it down on the table in front of him, and you take note of how his expression changes from laughing to pissed off.

Rafe runs up to the porch and swings open the door, and that's when Barry releases you. You stand and rush to him, feeling Rafe sigh in relief as he wraps his strong arms around your little body. All of your anxiety melts away as you know you're safe now. Rafe would never let anything happen to you.

"Please tell me you're okay," Rafe whispers against your head, squeezing you tight.

"I'm okay," you confirm.

He pulls back from the hug and starts checking all over your body for injuries anyway. He holds up your arms and scans those, stopping his finger over a bruise you already had. It happened on the boat with JJ.

"I'm fine," you repeat to him, laying your head back on his chest. You really just don't want him to let go of you.

"What the fuck, Barry?" Rafe yells, his voice echoing through your ear as you have your head pressed on his chest.

"Afternoon, Country Club," Barry stands and smirks, watching the way you cling to Rafe.

You don't look at him, you just close your eyes and breathe Rafe in, not wanting to remember where you are. In your mind, the two of you are hanging out and eating lunch at the club. You always love going, especially on windy days when his scent travels from across the table. You love the way he smells.

"I'd like to change my answer, sweetheart," Barry tells you, ignoring Rafe's confused glance, "I think this one might love you back, Rafe. How sweet."

Rafe instinctually tightens his arm up around you, keeping you pressed up against him.

"I swear to God," Rafe starts, "If you laid one hand on her-"

"I didn't, Jesus," Barry groans, "I wish you cared about getting me my money the same way you care about saving this bitch."

You don't react, not even slightly. You don't care what Barry thinks of you. You just never want his slimy hands to touch you. Ever again.

"She's not a bitch, man," Rafe's voice goes quiet, "And I'm going to get you your money."

Barry laughs and then pretends to cry, "Boo who, she's not a bitch. I don't care, bro. I gave you shit on two separate occasions-"

"And I gave you my bike as collateral!" Rafe shouts back.

"That piece of shit ain't worth half what you owe me," Barry spits, "Your girl liked riding on it, though."

Rafe's chest tenses against you, and then you feel him bring his hand up to stroke your hair. He's trying to keep you as relaxed as possible.

"Y/N, go wait in my truck," Rafe tells you quietly, pulling the keys out of his pocket.

"Oh, no, no," Barry smirks, reaching out and snatching the keys from Rafe, "You think you're the only person I called here?"

As if on cue, the porch door swings open again and JJ walks in. Your eyes open and you see him, his expression worse than you've ever seen him.

"You got her?" JJ points to you, but he's talking to Rafe.

Rafe just nods, tightening his grip around you again. You open your mouth to speak, but watch as JJ charges toward Barry and punches him square in the nose.

"What the fuck did you do?" JJ shouts, watching Barry tumble to the floor, "If I find out you fucking hurt her-"

Barry laughs from the floor, wiping blood from his nose, "Easy, bro. You two are so damn worried about this chick."

JJ's chest is expanding and then contracting every five seconds, telling you his adrenaline is going crazy. You know he's ready to punch him again. Barry stands and picks up his gun from the coffee table, pointing it directly at JJ. You try to push forward to stop it, but Rafe keeps his grip tight.

"Now," Barry says, spitting his blood onto the floor, "You bitches are gonna pay up."

"Barry, I'll get you your money, man," Rafe promises. When Barry moves and points the gun at Rafe, he quickly tucks you behind him. He gives you one of his hands to hold onto, while the other one goes up to stop Barry from shooting.

"Yeah, when?" Barry yells, "I told you, Cameron. It's not just me you're screwing with."

Rafe nods his head, doing his best to try and calm Barry down. JJ looks over at you, mouthing 'are you okay?'

You nod at him, your expression clearly giving you away. You're scared, and he knows it.

"I know, bro," Rafe says, "Some people still owe me from the party Friday night. I'm going to get it, I just need some time."

Barry laughs sarcastically and lowers the gun, "Oh, yeah, for sure, man. You know what, take your time, Rafe."

Rafe's expression changes, knowing Barry doesn't mean it. He just wonders what that means for getting you out of here.

"The girl stays with me until both of you are paid up," Barry tells both of them.

"Like hell," JJ mutters.

Barry, who is still pissed about his nose, turns around and hits JJ in the head with the stock of the gun. You watch JJ stumble back, and without hesitation, break from Rafe's grasp and rush over to him. Rafe reaches out to try and grab you, but his grip isn't good enough.

"JJ!" you say, grabbing onto him as he stumbles. He wraps his arm around your shoulders, allowing you to help him stand.

"Shit," JJ mumbles, gripping his forehead. He pulls his fingers back and sees blood.

"Damn, darlin'," Barry grins at you, "You really do love them both."

You glare at Barry for the millionth time today as you set your arm around JJ's waist and lead him over to sit down. He sits in the chair Barry had been sitting in and you stand in between his legs, moving his hand away to see his wound.

Barry looks over at Rafe, who has his jaw clenched as he watches you stand in between JJ's legs and clean him up. He watches as JJ's hand lingers on the back of your thigh, his fingers brushing your skin ever so slightly.

"That's gotta hurt," Barry says to Rafe, getting a lot of amusement out of watching the boys squirm over you.

You ignore whatever Barry says as you use the bottom of your shirt to wipe off some of the blood on JJ's forehead. It's not bleeding badly, which you're thankful for. You're almost sure Barry doesn't own a first aid kit.

"Now, JJ," Barry steps over to you two, "Let's talk about how you stole twenty-five thousand dollars out of my house, yeah?"

Barry presses the gun to the back of JJ's neck, making JJ tense up. You watch Barry, bringing your hands to JJ's shoulders and holding onto him, as if to comfort him somehow.

"I'll get it back," JJ says, his voice hoarse.

"You bet your ass you will," Barry tells him, "When will that be, exactly?"

JJ sighs, knowing it won't be any time soon. That money is long gone.

"Can we set up a payment plan?" JJ asks sarcastically.

He regrets it when Barry grabs onto your arm and pulls you away, pressing the gun into your stomach as he holds onto you. JJ stands quickly and Rafe starts to rush over, but stops when he sees the look in Barry's eyes.

"You know, I'm getting real sick of being treated like a bitch," Barry tells them, pressing the gun into you harder, "I want my money. Now."

You let out an involuntary groan at the pain, watching Rafe as he tries to figure out what to do.

"Let her go, Barry," Rafe finally speaks, "Let her sit down and I'll go get your money."

"All of it?" Barry confirms.

Rafe nods, "All of it. Just let her sit down over there."

Barry looks at both boys, noting how pathetic they are. He's glad, though, knowing all he has to do is threaten your life to get what he wants. He just doesn't understand what's so damn special about you.

He releases your arm and shoves you in the direction of the couch, Rafe stepping forward to grab you. He pulls you into him again, leading you over to sit down.

"You all right?" he asks you, taking a seat beside you and bringing his hands up to your cheeks.

"Yes," you reply, nodding feverishly as if to try and convince him.

"I'm gonna get you out of here, okay? I'm so sorry, baby," he whispers as he pulls you into him.

Your breath catches in your throat as he calls you 'baby'. He's never done that before. Your mind wanders back to Barry telling you that both boys are crazy in love with you. You now sit there in Rafe's arms, wondering if Barry's right.

Rafe pulls back and looks at you in the eyes again, "Just sit right here for me, okay? I'm gonna go get the money. I'll be right back."

You nod again, silently promising him that you'll be here when he gets back. As if you could leave. He rubs the base of his thumb on your cheek and gives you a small smile, then stands up. He curses, knowing he doesn't want to leave you here.

JJ steps over to Rafe as he walks toward the door, grabbing his arm.

"Where the fuck are you gonna get twenty six thousand bucks right now, man?" JJ hisses, keeping his voice down for your sake.

"I don't know, JJ, I was thinking I'd walk into the bank and ask nicely," Rafe snaps, "I have no fucking idea. But I have to figure something out, right?"

JJ runs his hands through his hair and exhales loudly, then looks over and smiles quickly at you. Barry watches the boys, trying to figure out what's going on.

"Dude-"

"Just," Rafe starts, already annoyed with JJ, "Stay with her. I'm going to figure it out."

Rafe hates telling JJ to comfort you and be there for you, but it's the way it has to be. No way JJ could get his dirty hands on that kind of money right now. Or ever. JJ nods and starts walking over to you as Rafe thinks about how much money his dad might have in his safe right now.

"You know," Barry starts, standing up again with the gun in his hand, "I'm starting to think you don't really have my money, Country Club."

"Chill out, Barry," Rafe sighs, stepping toward the door once more. The safety of the gun being turned off is what makes Rafe stop dead in his tracks.

"Tell me the truth, Rafe," Barry says.

Rafe slowly turns around with his hands up, swallowing quickly.

"I'm going to get it," Rafe states again.

Barry shakes his head, "You're lying."

Before Rafe can process it, Barry moves the gun in your direction. He looks at you for a second, the horror on your face, and you know your body is frozen. You shut your eyes, not wanting to see it happen. At least you'll die with the boys.

The shot fires fast, but you don't feel anything. You hear a yell, then Rafe scream out, and when you open your eyes, JJ's lying on the ground. Your jaw falls open as you tumble onto the floor beside him, setting your hand on his bleeding stomach. Your hand is soaked instantly, but you don't know what else to do.

"JJ," you cry out, watching his eyes find yours, "JJ, oh, my God."

Tears fall down your face as you stare at him, his eyes glazing over. He's just watching you panic. Rafe comes over and sinks down beside you, not knowing how to help.

"Towels, Rafe," you order, "Hurry."

You spot a random shirt laying on the ground, one you're sure is Barry's and use it for the time being to soak up some of the blood.

"Hey, JJ, I'm right here," you tell him, watching your tears fall onto his shirt. They become invisible immediately, the blood stains swallowing them up.

"Are you okay?" JJ chokes out, spitting blood from his mouth onto the floor when he finishes speaking. You shake your head and try to swallow your tears, but you can't.

"I'm fine, JJ, just relax," you tell him, then look up, "Rafe!"

Rafe comes out of Barry's and onto the porch with towels in his hand, stopping only when Barry grabs onto his arm.

"I was aiming for her, remember that," Barry tells him.

Rafe just yanks his arm away and comes to you, placing one of the towels over JJ's wound.

"Rafe, what do we do?" you ask frantically, trying to ignore the blood that now seeps onto the floor.

Rafe shakes his head, having absolutely no idea what to do. He brings his hands over yours and puts more pressure on the wound, trying to stop the bleeding.

"You have to call 911," you tell Rafe, "Go."

Rafe stares at you for a second, still stunned, when JJ starts to speak from the floor.

"Rafe," JJ chokes, "You gotta get her out of here, man."

"Not a chance, JJ," you say, trying your best to smile at him.

JJ looks over at Rafe again, "Rafe."

His voice is serious, and Rafe knows exactly what he's telling him. He's a goner, and he knows it. But he doesn't want you to watch him die. Rafe nods to JJ, telling him he understands. He watches JJ relax and lay his head back down, then stands up. JJ brings his hand down to yours and wraps his fingers around you. You squeeze, trying to tell him it's going to be okay.

"Go call," you remind him.

Rafe steps across JJ's body and, without speaking, tucks his arm around your waist and picks you up. He knows this won't be easy, and he can already feel his emotions coming up.

"Rafe, put me down!" you shout, your blood soaked hands going down to try and peel his arm off of you, "Rafe, stop! JJ!"

He carries you over to the door of the porch, doing his best to keep his grip tight as you fight with every ounce of strength you have.

"Let me go, Rafe! I have to help him!" you're screaming your head off, and Rafe hates it, but he knows he has to do what's best for you.

He glances back only for a second and sees JJ's shallow breathing, knowing he doesn't have much time left.

"Rafe!" you scream, kicking and thrashing around to try and get away.

"I have to make sure you're safe," Rafe tells you as the two of you reach the truck, "It's what he wants me to do."

"He's going to die!" you scream, "Let go of me! I'll never forgive you for this!"

Rafe opens the passenger door of the truck and puts you inside, using all of his strength to keep you there.

"You'll be alive, though!" Rafe raises his voice at you, making you stop. He's never yelled at you, not once.

You choke on your sobs as you see the blood all over Rafe's shirt, then all over your own. He buckles you in and closes your door, then rushes around the truck.

"Don't think this makes us even, Rafe Cameron!" Barry yells from the porch. Rafe flips Barry off and then gets into the truck, starting it and speeding off without buckling himself.

"Rafe, stop!" you yell, "I can't leave him there! He's all alone!"

"This is what he wanted!" Rafe yells back at you, stepping further down on the gas pedal.

"I don't care, I don't want him to be alone!" you cry, reaching for the door handle.

Rafe locks the doors and puts child lock on, preventing you from flinging out of the truck. You bang your fist on the window as he does, leaving a blood stain there.

"Rafe!" you look over and scream at him again.

He gets so frustrated he pulls the truck off the path and sets it in park, then turns to you. He grabs onto both of your wrists and holds them down.

"Calm the fuck down, right now," he demands, "Calm down."

You sit back in the seat and do as you're told, but your tears still fall. JJ just gave his life up to save yours, and Rafe doesn't seem to care at all.

"You need to understand that my only priority back there was to keep you safe. I'm sorry about JJ, baby, I am, but staying would've only put you in more danger."

You shake your head at him, almost as if you're disgusted. You let out a sob and then try to wipe your eyes, only smearing JJ's blood on your face. He reaches over and grabs your cheek, pulling you to look at him.

"I'm going to go back there and get his body. You can say goodbye to him. I'm gonna pay off Barry and never go back there. But I'm going to protect you first, do you understand?"

You nod your head under his touch, letting out another sob as soon as you try to breathe in. Rafe brings his hands down to your hips and pulls you toward him, over the console and into his lap.

"Come here," he whispers gently, tucking his arms around you and holding you close.

He knows you're a mess right now and there's blood all over his truck, but he doesn't care. He just wants you to calm down.

"Rafe," you sob, not knowing what else to say. His shirt becomes soaked with tears quickly.

"I know," he tells you softly, "I know."

"He saved me," you say, more just processing what happened, "Oh, my God, he's dead because of me."

"Shh," Rafe hushes you, his heart feeling like it's breaking in two as he listens to you, "It's not your fault. None of this is. Just calm down for me, baby."

Your hands come up and wrap around the back of Rafe's neck as you nuzzle your nose into the front of it. He brings one hand up to stroke through your hair, trying to relax you.

"We're okay," he soothes, his other hand rubbing your back, "Everything's okay."

You two sit there for a while, Rafe just rubbing on you and calming you down, until eventually, you start to come to terms with what happened. He's thankful you're no longer hysterical.

"Let's go get you cleaned up," Rafe whispers against your head once he feels you relax against him.

You pull back and look him in the eyes, feeling his hand come up to wipe blood from your cheek.

"You'll go back and get him?" you confirm.

Rafe nods, "Yes, of course."

You nod your head and then bring your hand up to his cheek the same way he had on yours, observing how soft his skin is. You think about what Barry told you about them both loving you, and how he later told you that you love them both.

"Rafe?" you ask, your voice nasally from all the crying and screaming, "Can I ask you a question?"

Rafe nods, loving the feeling of your skin on his. It relaxes him, makes him feel complete.

"Barry told me he thinks you're in love with me," you say quietly, leaving out the part about JJ.

You watch as Rafe nervously swallows, and then nods his head ever so slightly. You feel your heart swell, not knowing Rafe Cameron could ever make you feel that way.

"It's true?" you ask him, searching around in his eyes for any kind of doubt. There is none.

"Yeah," Rafe barely whispers.

"Oh," you say, watching Rafe's expression change to hurt as you glance away.

He's sure you don't feel the same. When you look up at him again, he's staring intensely at you.

"Is it okay that I love you, too?" you ask him, voice fragile.

Rafe smiles slightly, then watches as you smile too.

"Yeah," he repeats, but with more authority this time.

He leans his head down and then hesitates, making you hesitate as well. You reach up and grab the collar of his shirt, pulling him down to you. His lips make yours feel like they're on fire as they move together. He reaches up and grabs your cheeks, holding you to him. He pulls away after about a minute, staring at you in full adoration.

"I'm so sorry about today," he tells you, keeping his grip on your face, "I will never put you in any danger like that ever again."

You nod your head slowly, "I know that."

Rafe smiles down at you, bringing one hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear.

"Let's go get you a shower," he says softly.

He doesn't make you get back in your seat, however. He just tightens his grip around you and puts the car in drive again, allowing you to hold onto him while he drives. It almost reminds you of being on the bike with Barry this morning. But instead of being completely disgusted, you're completely in love.

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