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#grips their wrist where they hold the blade of their knife- and kisses the before he thinks. he doesnt think with them. he cant.
matchbet-allofthetime · 2 months
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Sobbing in bed because I'm writing a Ulysses fic and I'm caught between him killing the Courier because they are willfully giving up all the people they love and all the good they've done in the Mojave and he wanted them dead and gone-
And him just telling them they don't belong in the Divide with him. Not them, not their soft heart.
"You need to go home," Ulysses would say.
The courier would just laugh.
"Go home, Courier," they mumble. "Your signs. I have them all marked on my Pip-Boy. I don't even know why, but I mark all of the ones I find."
They traverse the Divide KNOWING Ulysses will kill them.
They take off their armour and keep only their finest, best combat knife and a gun on them with enough ammo to get them to Ulysses and to give him a third bullet to put in their skull alongside the two from Benny.
They offer him their knife, their gun, and the option for him to kill them with his bare hands.
Willingly. Selflessly. Painfully.
"I could never hate you, Ulysses. Not for this, never for this. I will never be mad at you for this."
And he's caught.
They're a godsend to this place, so much good they've done.
Does he kill them? Or does he bridge the Divide?
Maybe they go home. Maybe he kills them.
And maybe, after everyone back home knows they're okay... Maybe they do belong here, in the Divide, with Ulysses.
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axelsagewrites · 8 months
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Ivar the Boneless*Does He Treat You Well
Pairing: Ivar x wife!reader
Kinktober Day eleven: knife play with Ivar the Boneless – people whisper and wonder how someone so sweet could marry someone so angry, but they don’t see what Ivar does when you’re underneath him
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Warnings: ivar being ivar, slight blood kink, blood, knife play, knife kink, p in v sex, nipple play, choking, hickeys, smut 18+
Masterlist Here
Kinktober List Here
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You heard their whispers in the street, of course you had. You remember the concerned expressions etched into your parents face as you dedicated your heart to Ivar. You knew what people thought of him and what they feared for you.
Even Ubbe, a long close friend of yours expressed his concern. You had married Ivar a month ago yet now Ubbe was asking you the question, “Does he treat you well?” he asked in a hush whisper from where you sat at the opposite side of the hall from your husband. Your eyes flickered to Ivar as you recalled how he had treated you last night.
/
“Such a pretty dress,” Ivar praised as he laid by your side, his hands trailing down the fabric of your dress as you gazed up at how his pale blue eyes scanned your body, “Shame it has to go,” he muttered but you knew he was not sorry.
Especially not when he clutched the neckline, his dagger slicing through the fabric with ease. Cold air washed over your frame causing your nipples to harden while Ivar finished slicing the dress off you. his eyes raked your body, the dagger slowly being dragged up your legs. You shivered as the cool metal glided along your thigh, so light that it didn’t even scratch your skin. “Husband,” you whined, your hand gripping his wrist making his eyes raise to meet yours, “I need you,”
A low growl left his throat as his lips crashed onto yours. you felt his blade move away from your body, but you were too intoxicated by his lips to care as your hands wound up in his hair as he moved to lay over you. he broke the kiss as suddenly as he started it, his empty hand reaching to squeeze your tit before pinching one of your nipples roughly causing you to whine.
His lips moved to your collarbones, sucking harsh marks into the sensitive skin as he rolled your nipples between his fingers making it hard not to moan loudly. “Such a pretty little thing,” Ivar praised, his voice almost mocking as his eyes raked your chest.
You shivered when you felt the tip of his dagger run up your side slowly, moving over to run up your chest. As he ran the blade up between your breasts, he pressed down lightly, just enough to break the skin. A hot feeling flushed along your chest as Ivar dropped the blade, running his thumb over the cut he had made, collecting the blood on his finger.
You watched as he sucked his thumb, his eyes rolling back into his skull, “Such a sweet taste,” he praised, moving his hands from his lips to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your cheek bone. Your hand moved to hold his wrist softly and Ivar smiled at your tenderness in even this moment. “A gift from the gods,” he murmured, his lips falling to press soft kisses down your chest to your breasts.
“Husband,” you moaned lightly as he took your nipple into his mouth.
“What is it my sweet?” he asked, trailing his mouth to the other, sucking harshly making you gasp in pleasure.
You could feel your stomach burning and your chest aching, needing his touch despite how close he already was. Your legs moved to hook around his lower back, pulling his body down gently into yours as your hands moved to cup your face, “I need you,” you whispered, pulling him in for a soft kiss.
Ivar however growled, his kiss growing more intense as his hand moved to grab your jaw. You gasped lightly when you felt his hips grind into yours, his hard cock evident through his trousers. While you had heard the whispers of his failures in the bedroom one night with Ivar proved it had just been a mishap.
His lips moved to your jaw, kissing it harshly as he trailed down your frame. His lips soon captured your nipple, his teeth grazing it making shivers run down your spin. You felt his rough hand squeeze your thigh before it slipped between them, running a finger up your slit, “So wet for me already,” he praised, “How desperate you really are,”
“So desperate,” you whined quietly, “for you Ivar. I need you please. do not make me wait,” you begged, your hips instinctively bucking as he rubbed harsh circles onto your clit, “Please husband,”
Your words seemed to spark something in the man as his hand wrapped around your neck, the other diving beneath his trousers to fish out his cock. “You want me?” he asked, and you nodded wordlessly as you felt him line himself up with your entrance, “Then you shall have me,” he grunted, pushing his tip in slowly making you gasp at his size you had still not grown used to. His eyes screwed tight in bliss as he slowly sunk his cock all the way in, his hand trailing down your throat to your breast, squeezing it lightly.
Your hips bucked, desperate for friction, and Ivar had sensed your impatience. His hips began to move, slowly at first before falling into a brutal and relentless pace. Your legs wrapped around his hips, allowing him to hit a deeper angle making curses fall from his lips.
Your eyes screwed shut, trying to stifle the moans as your fingernails sunk into his bicep. You gasped when you felt the cold blade press against your throat, but it only added to the way your body tightened beneath him. When you opened your eyes, you were met by his icy blue ones.
For a moment you wondered if it this was the sight your husbands’ enemies were forced to see before they were sent to Odin and for a moment you thought this alone would make death worth it. but they didn’t get to feel the way you did as you felt your peak soon approaching. Ivar grabbed your hand roughly, shoving it between your bodies so you could rub fast circles into your clit.
His blade moved up, pushing against your jaw making your head tilt back as Ivar’s lips dove down to your neck, kissing down the soft skin. When you felt his arm slip under your back, pulling it up and causing it to arch, you gasped as his cock hit a new spot that somehow felt even better.
Ivar groaned at the way your cunt squeezed around him, but he was determined to last until you had, and it did not take long as with a few more specific, aimed thrusts you found your orgasm rushing over you. your body tightened, your legs wrapping around him and pulling him in deeper making Ivar groan and drop the knife. He moved his arm out from under your back, grabbing at the sheets as his thrusts grew messy and desperate, his forehead resting against yours.
You felt his body stiffen as you came down from your own peak, still panting from the high as you felt him spill inside you before collapsing on top of you in a sweaty mess. After a couple of moments to allow you both to catch your breath Ivar looked up at you, his eyes tender and sweet, “Are you okay my love?” he asked.
/
“Are you okay?” Ubbe’s words snapped you back from reality and your eyes darted back to him, not noticing your husband’s smirk from across the room.
You smiled warmly at your brother-in-law, “Yes and you don’t need to worry Ubbe. He treats me very well, I promise,”
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corpsebasil · 1 year
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haiii!! can i request a dark ethan landry x reader fic where she accidentally discovers that hes ghostface and he scares and manipulates her from telling the rest of the group? im obsessedddd with your ethan fics btw <33
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“Don’t move.”
You stilled, phone still clutched in your hand, your breathing heavy.
You felt the kiss of the knife before you saw it, Ethan slowly walking around to face you. You sat in your apartment, the text seconds from being sent. Ethan was Ghostface. Ghostface. The one who killed Anika, who—
“What is wrong with you?” You asked, chest tight as the blade settled against your neck. He only stared down, eyebrows furrowed, as he ran the sharp edge lightly against your skin.
“Don’t do what you want to do.” He warned, reaching out to pull your phone from your hand. “You don’t want to do that. And I don’t want to have to hurt you.”
“Ethan.” You moved to stand, trying to ignore the blade pressed against your skin. “Ethan come on. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“That I was Ghostface?” His dark laugh annoyed you more than scared you. “Don’t be dumb, sweetheart. You were just about to tell the rest of the group about me.”
“So they can stay the fuck away.” You snapped, standing fully and taking a step forward. He moved with you, the knife never slicing your skin completely, as you gestured to the black robes he wore. “I trusted you—“
“Big mistake.” He spat, and pressed harder. You felt the sting and grabbed his wrist, holding him back. You were so close now that his face was inches from your own and his eyes, those brown eyes you’d found yourself staring at far too many times, were fixated on you. “You’re not going to say anything.” He said, tossing your phone somewhere far behind him. “Because you’ll be dead if you do.”
Your breathing was shallow as you stared at him, eyeing the boy up and down. He was your friend. Your friend. Memories of the two of you raced through your mind, memories that you’d held close during the frightening events taking place around you. Like how at the Halloween party, when no one was watching, he’d pulled you into a forgotten hallway to kiss you until you felt dizzy. Or how he’d shown up at your house with takeout and flowers, embarrassed at having ‘taken advantage of you’ when you were drunk. His words, obviously.
And then how you’d kissed him on your couch, the couch behind you, to assure him you liked him.
But when you looked at him now, looked at him as the strength pushing against your grip was threatening to cut your throat open, all you felt was an intense heartbreak that made your eyes water.
“You said you loved me.” You whispered, blinking at his hateful expression. “You lied.”
“I didn’t lie, baby.” He rolled his eyes, moving closer, his hand finding your waist. “But I cant have you telling anyone about me.”
“I won’t.” You swore. You felt him pull you in closer, the cold blade still digging into your skin. “I won’t say anything. I know you won’t kill me.”
“And why is that?” He asked, raising a dark brow. “Because you think I want you?”
“I want you.”
“No. You’re an idiot for that.” He purred, smirking a bit as he eyed you. He already knew he’d won.
“I don’t care. I don’t care if you’re a killer, or a mad man, or anything—I love you as you are, and I want you. Whether you’re Ghostface or not, I still love you. I love you because you are mine. Because you love me and—”
His kiss was crushing, shoving you backwards onto the couch. As he threw his knife away, his hands held your hips in a bruising grip. His dark laugh was startling when he bit your lip, so hard it bled.
“Gonna be a good girl and keep my secret?” He asked, and his hand moved to your throat, crushing you down against the couch. You nodded, eyes wild, and he rolled his eyes. “So predictable baby.” He scoffed, kissing you again.
He had you wrapped around his finger, and fucking knew it.
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pixelmensupremacy · 1 year
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Can you do an angst, fluff one-shot where Reader knows both Krauser and Leon, her boyfriend, far back to when they were doing during Operation Javier. So during the fight against Krauser, he started saying how Leon will fail to protect reader and how he could possibly give her a good life when he’s weak during the fight, in his mind games against Leon, even hinting he will harm Reader as well. This does get to Leon emotionally so when he returns home, he starts acting off- Reader senses something is wrong when he is acting like everything is okay. So she tries her best to give him comfort and assurance.
A/N: Not going to lie I was in a crappy mood today so writing this request did help a little. Thank you for your request and I hope you like it!
Word count: 0.7k
Warnings: fem!reader, angst, fluf, hurt/comfort
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“You’re so naïve, thinking you can save everyone.” Ear piercing clang rang in his ears as he barely managed to parry the attack with his knife. “You know (Y/N) isn’t safe with you.” Leon’s puzzled gaze closely watched the man that used to be his major.
“Leave (Y/N) out of this!” Leon shot back, his grip on his knife tightened.
“Oh, rookie haven’t you learned anything?” With a loud thump, Leon came crashing to the cold ground with Krauser on top of him, his knife just mere inches away from Leon’s racing heart.
“Tell me” The sharp tip of the blade poked at his chest ever so slightly, reminding of its threatening presence. “Do you really think you can provide her with the life she deserves?” Krauser let out a mocking laugh before he backed away.
“One day you’ll end up alone and it will be all your fault.”
Sharp pain stung his heart. With a gasp, Leon shot up in bed; beads of sweat prickled the fair skin of his forehead, illuminating the gloomy moonshine that seeped through the blinds of the window. Glancing at the alarm clock on the nightstand, he wasn’t surprised to see the digits have fallen on the small hours of the night; he rubbed his eyes, in a failed attempt to scrape off the image that had been imprinted in his mind, refusing to leave him at peace. His pensive, glassy irises mindlessly gazed out the window as the thoughts kept crawling back to him.
Ruffling of sheets caught his attention; glancing to his side, he was relieved to see his partner safe and sound beside him. Her half lidded (E/C) irises stared back at him, her mouth fell open as she let out a prolonged, audible yawn.
“Another nightmare?” Her gentle voice put him at ease, her delicate touch on his hand alleviated the sorrow that had made itself at home in his tormented heart. (Y/N) wasn’t indifferent to grief her partner bottled within himself from the very moment their assignment was successfully completed. It pained her to see him fighting his demons on his own- any traces of joy behind the soft cobalt blue of his eyes faded away with each passing day- yet she patiently waited for him to open up, when he was ready.
Hesitantly, Leon hummed; he forced a smile that did nothing but to further concern her. Sitting up next to him, she cupped his face, her thumbs caressed his cheeks. He leaned into her touch, immediately sensing the sedative effect she had on him; his own hands went to hold her wrists, making sure they would stay exactly there, a single tear rolled down his cheek. Her heart shattered at the dreadful look on his face; his lip quivered, his breath hitched, his eyes were sealed shut.
“It’s nothing to worry about, you should go back to sleep. You know you gotta wake up early tomorrow.” Leon tried to convince her, yet his shaky voice did little to aid the confidence in his words.
“Oh, dear.” She pulled him in her arms, to which he surrendered as he wrapped his arms around her form in a tight hug. Her fingers tangled in the mess of blond strands, whilst her other hand rubbed circles on his back in a soothing manner; his nose was buried in the crook of her neck, intentionally muffling his uncontrollable sobs. She planted a kiss atop the crown of his head all the while she gently rocked him back and forth; he was gripping on her loose shirt, his hot tears rolled down his face and landed on her shoulder akin to a gentle flow of raindrops.
“You know you can tell me anything.” (Y/N) reminded him as she kissed his temple; in response he nodded with his face still nuzzled in her shoulder. With her arms still wrapped around him, she carefully laid back in bed with his head now resting atop her chest; listening to the melody of her heartbeat, Leon felt ease weave in his tense muscles, the sound of her beating heart reminded him the love of his life was very much alive and safe right beside him. That though alone was enough to help him relax and let himself fall into peaceful slumber, lulled by the comforting song of her heart against his ear.
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poppy-metal · 5 months
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🍄 *slides back in* hai hello, somehow my mind has convinced itself of au slasher jordan li as a fucking need with that feral grin spreading across their face as they chase me. just gonna pretend to trip myself stfg ( even if I would do so anyway because me and heels don't mix rip my ankle ), would they care if I attempted to fuck them before possibly dying? is the pussy that good to avoid death? taunter jordan delighting in the tears falling down your cheeks, ringed fingers tilting your head up harshly to meet their eyes.....poppy send halp my brain is mushy ;)(( need grippy socks rn
seeing jordan plunge a knife into someone's gut would turn me on saurry not sorry. scrambling back from them, running isn't an option anymore - and them shaking their hair out when they take off their mask. bick black combat boots, blood on their knife. they lick the blade with a grin as they step over you, looming. "I've been waiting all night for this."
squatting and leanin over you, tracing the tip of the blade up your arm, something about the move seductive, the way their eyes trace the movement. till the knife rests at your throat, poised to slit it. "w-wait, jordan-" reaching up to grip their wrist. "you dont want this."
a dark eyebrow raising. but they're interested. head tilting just a little, "oh? what do i want then, freshmen."
you swallow, the bob of your throat pressing dangerously close to the razor sharp blade. it nicks the skin a little, but you make yourself hold their eyes.
your other hand comes up shaky, trembling. you dont bother to steady it, no use hiding your fear. they like it anyway, you can see the it. the way they bite their lip at you splayed out under them, the spider looming over the fly caught in its web.
you unbutton one of the buttons on your blouse. jordan zeroes in on the action. pupils dilating.
"you want me." your breath is shaky. but you're certain you're right. you unbutton another button. the swell of your tits now exposed and jordans breath hitches. they shift on top of you. "you can have me."
there's a moment of silence where you stare at eachother, the blade still at your neck. then, dimples appear on jordans cheeks, the grin they give you absolutely feral. "you sick bitch."
the blade is replaced with their hand the next second, gripped by the throat as they yank your lips to theirs in a rough kiss. you should probably be using the opportunity to try and wrangle the knife free from them but your arms come up to wrap around their shoulders instead as they push you back to the floor, spreading your legs to invite them between the cradle.
you are sick. sick for being wet, sick for kissing them back and enjoying this. you say its for survival, but you know its more than that.
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space-writes · 4 months
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Summary:
Rune’s not so good with romantic words. He’s not so great with romantic gifts either. (inspired by this prompt from @creativepromptsforwriting)
Read on AO3 here / @ficwip
Since he woke on the Nautiloid, words have been difficult for Rune. Perhaps it’s the head-trauma and the parasite burrowing into his brain, or perhaps he’s always been a lumpen-tongued creature, unable to translate thought to coherent speech. So far he’s scraped by, bludgeoning his way through conversations like a back-alley boxer, bare-knuckled and brutal, but now he finds himself in need of more than a fistful of words.
Astarion gives him a headache with all the thoughts he can’t get from one side of his scarred skull to the other. Compliments and pet names and assurances flow from his—partner? bedmate? lover? friend?—companion like wine. Rune skips being drunk on it and goes straight to the hangover, unable to reciprocate. It’s infuriating. He killed a fucking orthon, why are a few affectionate words so damn difficult?
There are other ways to speak. Pictures say a thousand words, or so it goes. Items can be your voice, say what you can’t. Rune’s no painter, but he knows what Astarion enjoys.
His gut churns as he crosses the camp, his unspeakable words clasped in a clammy fist behind his back. Astarion glances up from his book, smile half-shadowed in the firelight. It makes him look Rune’s favourite kind of dangerous; a night-predator, eyes aglint and aglow.
“Need something?” he asks, setting his book aside, then blinks at the object Rune drops into his lap. “What’s this?”
“Affection,” Rune says. Astarion snorts a laugh.
“Darling, this is a knife. It still has blood on it.”
“You like knives. And blood.”
The snort becomes a full-bodied laugh, head thrown back, mouth wide enough to show red tongue, white fangs. The hollow core of Rune’s head turns in on itself, growling to cover the whimper of humiliation. Go somewhere dark, cut something open and crawl inside, this never happened, this never happened, this never happened. He starts to turn away—Astarion leaps up and catches his wrist.
“You’re right,” he says. “I do like knives. And blood.” Hesitation. “And you.”
Rune swallows. “I want to say things. To you. And I can’t.”
“Thus the knife.”
Astarion examines it for a moment, considering, then tosses it aside. It hits his discarded book and thumps off the cover—the sound reverberates in Rune’s head, but before it can crescendo to murderous levels of anguish, Astarion takes his face in both hands.
“Don’t worry so much about saying things, sweetheart.”
He pulls Rune into a kiss, and Rune grips his waist tight, holding him close. There’s a knot just left of his heart, a tangled, bloody skein of firelit eyes, the white arch of a brow, the shift of weight before the throw of a knife; of skin pale as bone and soft as silk, a sharp laugh and sharper teeth; of need and want and fear sunk in like claws.
Astarion draws back.
“I hear you,” he says. Taps Rune’s temple. “And even without these little go-betweens, you’re loud enough.” He puts his palm to Rune’s chest, over his heart. “I hear you, love.”
The knot unravels ever so slightly. Rune lays his hand over Astarion’s.
“So no knives?”
Astarion grins. “Well, I’ll never say no to a decent blade. I do so enjoy a good stabbing.”
Rune barks a laugh, and lets his vampire drag him into their tent, where they speak without words until the sun comes up.
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Text
Pretend this has a valid title.
I just noticed that I make Keith cry really often. Huh.
And there's more kissing! What's going on?
----------------------------------------------------------
Click.
Keith and Lance stare in horror at their wrists to see them handcuffed together.
They had just been arguing about something stupid, Keith isn't even sure what the topic is, and apparently Pidge has had enough.
"If you two are going to yell at each other, then you can do it like this. Now shut your face-holes."
They stared each other down. Lance sighed and shifted to hold Keith's hand loosely. "Ugh, Fine. I'll try to be decent if you try too."
Lance's grip on Keith's hand brings back old memories.
Lance is standing outside of Keith's door, his hair is tousled like he's been running, and he holds a bouquet of red roses to big it hides his face from view.
Keith can't help the fond smile that comes to his face.
Lance has been asking him out for months, each try more extravagant than the last. Judging from the fairly simple flowers, he seems to have finally realized that Keith prefers small gestures rather than large gifts.
Keith sees blue eyes peek over the top of the blossoms.
"Please Keith. Just one try? You know you want some of this."
Lance gestures to himself, and Keith lets a small chuckle leave his lips. (what? no, of course Keith didn't giggle, he's a very masculine guy, nope, never, be quiet).
Keith can't deny the fact that he's had a crush on Lance for a while. It's hard not to admire someone so sure of himself, someone who carries himself like he rules the world, someone who could befriend anyone. Keith doesn't know why Lance wants him of all people.
"One try is all you get."
-
It has been about 9 months since Keith agreed to go out with Lance.
"Why do you always push me away? I get that you miss Shiro, but I'm only trying to help!"
"I don't want your help! I can deal with this myself!"
"That's what you say about everything! Have you ever thought that maybe I like helping you? That I want to see you happy instead of constantly alone and heartbroken? Please, Keith." "
Lance. Just drop it."
"No! You need help! The sooner you accept that, the sooner we can work past this."
"Lance! Just-just leave me alone. This isn't something you can fix with charming words and a smile!"
"Is that all you think I am? Nothing but a people pleaser? I thought you knew me better than that, but I guess not. Goodbye Keith. I'm done."
-
The first time Lance sends a Keith in his direction, it feels like a knife to the heart. Hunk has distanced himself from Keith too.
Keith is all alone again, and just like always, there's no one to blame but himself.
Keith snaps back to the present. He stares at the ground and wills his hot tears to go away.
"Yeah. Sure. It's just for a bit anyway."
It is not just for a bit. When they go to Pidge and show her that they're getting along, she searches all of her drawers and comes up with only a handful of candy wrappers.
"Ummmm... So I have bad news and good news. Bad: I lost the key. But, hey, at least now you can bond a bit more!"
They both groan at the same time, and the whip around to glare at each other. They forget how close they are thanks to the handcuffs, and bonk noses.
All day, they struggle for control over where they go and how the do things. Thankfully, they don't have to feed each other. That would be annoying.
The night cycle starts, and Pidge still can't find the keys. She looks genuinely guilty, and scurries around the castle looking everywhere.
Finally, Hunk has an idea.
"Hey, you know that spinning blade saw we have in the engineering room? It's made to bust through Altean meatal. We try that."
And now Lance and Keith are standing with both of their hands only inches away from a wicked looking blade.
Even with its incredible power, the saw is very slow, and Pidge tells them they have about 5 minutes before the chain breaks.
"So.. today wasn't bad," Keith mutters.
Lance glares at him harshly. "Yeah? Well maybe someone should have handcuffed us together 2 years ago!"
Keith recoils. Lance feels a sliver of guilt for the wounded look in his eyes.
"I- I'm just trying to say that I'm sorry. You were right. You usually are, we both know I can't use my head when it matters."
Lance scoffs. "No dip. If the past couple of years have shown anything, it's that we don't mix well. I mean, we've had a rivalry for a while."
Keith's eyes flash, and all of the sadness leaves them.
"Seriously? There never was a rivalry, Lance! It's all in your head! I went along with it because that's the only way you would let me close to you! Everyone has noticed, it's just you who can't get it into your thick head that I never moved on. Don't you get it? I love you, Lance! I never stopped loving you!"
There's angry tears flowing down Keith's reddened face, and he spits the words out like they are fire. There is a loud snap as the chain breaks, and Keith immediately bolts out.
The rest of the paladins, who have been silent throughout Keith's whole confession stare in shock. Hunk and Shiro are the only ones who have prior knowledge of Keith and Lance's relationship, and Shiro left on the Kerberos mission before he could learn the extent of Keith's feelings.
"That was... intense. Maybe you shou-"
Lance races out of the room before he can hear the end of Hunk's sentence.
Please, please, please.
Lance can't miss this chance, Keith will never open up to him like this again.
He sees the Keith running down like there's a weblum after him. Anyone else would have been left in his dust, but Lance has long gazelle legs and ran track for 5 years.
He tackles Keith to the ground, and they both grunt at the impact.
Lance ends up on top of Keith, and he fights the boy pinning him to the ground until Lance stares at him with pleading, watery eyes.
Lance does what he does best. He rambles.
"I’m sorry, I was stupid, you were stupid, we were both stupid! I’ve always loved you and I’d fight the world for you, defy death and gravity, handcuff myself to you so I never have to let go. I’d kiss you at the altar, I’d trade anything and everything for you, I’d spray paint the side of the garrison with our initials surrounded by a big, disgusting pink heart"
They both laugh at that like it’s an old memory they both share, which, knowing them, it probably is. Lance continues.
"I’d kiss the air out of your lungs, I’d take you anywhere, I’d destroy anyone who dares to harm you. I shouldn't have left you, you're worth so much more than one fight! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I forgive you, so can you please forgive me? Keith, you don't know how much I wan-"
Keith grabs his shirt collar and kisses him hard. Lance lowers himself off of his arms and lays completely on the raven below him.
When they break apart, Keith lets out a disbelieving laugh.
"Guess what? You finally bested me. Your confession was much better than mine."
"Because thou art my truest love!"
"Ew, never do that again."
they don't notice the team until Allura's giggle sounds out from further down the hall. They are watching them with expressions that range from teasing disgust to megashipper freakout.
Allura has been recording the whole thing, and Pidge will most definitely be playing that at their wedding.
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muses-morii · 7 months
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@gentlemanthiief asked: 👄 for Yozora ✨
RNG'd 22. Lusty Kiss
~ Yozora ~
Everything was wet. A light drizzle fell from the sky, turning everything dark and shiny beneath the bright lights of the street lamps. Puddles lay in dips and grooves of the sidewalk and road and beads of water slid down walls and windows.
Everything was wet and that made the game of cat and mouse both harder and easier. Harder to sneak up with water splashing beneath the feet. Easier to find with the sound of dripping and droplets hitting cloth.
It was dark, night having long since fallen in the city. Few cars were on the road and even fewer people walked the streets, whether due to the rain or it being the middle of the week was unimportant. Yozora didn't particularly care either way, what mattered was that there were simply less people to worry about and less to get in his way. He knew the Vampire was around somewhere nearby. He'd chased him this far and after their last meeting, he had a feeling that it wasn't trying overly hard to get away. Just enough to make the hunt worth it. Unbidden, the memory of the last time he'd found Akira rushed into his mind and Yozora absently touched his lips. He could still feel the chill of the Vampires mouth on his own, the way the teeth nibbled at his lip and how his tongue had swiped over his teeth. At the time, it had been unexpected, but since then, the Hunter had found himself wondering, if it realyl had been as surprising as he'd thought. Their game had been going for sometime, this giving each other the run around and sometimes, rules were broken and things... Happened.
Huffing an annoyed sigh, Yozora dragged his mind back to the present where it needed to be. Whether or not they now had history, didn't matter. Akira was still a Vampire and therefore, his enemy. They were still trying to kill each other and a lapse of attention was the last thing he needed on the backstreets and alleyways of the city.
Hearing a faint noise, the scrape of shoes against wet concrete, Yozora's eyes narrowed and his lip curled. Oh how inexperienced did Akira think he was? He crept down the narrow road, silver knife held in one hand, crossbow gun in the other. Another sound; the splash of a foot in a puddle. Yozora paused.
A rat skittered by.
The drizzle fell steadily, coming down heavier.
Then Yozora's crossbow snapped upwards, firing several bolts as the Vampire came down to him from above! He jumped aside, dodging the attack and slashed with his knife! It was a small space, but the two of them fought for a tense minute! Yozora ducked and slashed, his cross bow going down to the clip on his hip in a smooth motion. Blood splattered against a wall! The silver knife scraped against brick and the Vampire's teeth flashed beneath the broken light above! Feeling a sting in his side, Yozora grunted as he was shoved back against the rough, wet wall, stars exploding before his vision as his head collided with the stone, but instinctively he brought his knife up! The blade sizzled as it pressed against Akira's jawline and neck.
They were locked in a stalemate, staring at each other in the near darkness of the back street.
One of Akira's hands gripped Yozora's wrist, pressing it against the wall by his side. The other flat against the Hunters chest, holding him in place. They were close. So close.
Who started it didn't really matter in that moment. With the smell of blood on the air, the Hunter and the Vampire had locked lips; kissing each other with passion, and wanton need. The knife was gone and hands pulled at clothing as Akira's mouth dropped to his neck. Sharp teeth slid against his skin and Yozora gasped as the Vampire kissed and licked up his neck.
He dragged the Vampire's head back up and claimed his lips in another powerful kiss laced with lust. Hands pulled at his shirt and pants, and pushed his jacket down his arms. The rain fell harder, drowning out their sounds in the dimly lit, narrow street.
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laytonfam · 2 years
Note
If you’re still taking writing requests, what about a scenario where Alfendi has to stick up for Kat (like she’s being bullied, or told off etc)? Thanks!
Not entirely sure I followed this one correctly because it’s more like kidnapping than bullying- but it’s still unhinged protective Al, hope that’s okay 😅 (Kat is give or take 10 and Al is 18, mentions of knives and cigarettes)
————
“I’ll be back in a minute, just stay here, okay?”
She looked up at him with wide eyes and nodded. They were walking home together; Kat was still a touch too young for him to be comfortable letting her walk home alone. He knew how evil these streets could be. As much as he hated having to walk her home everyday (babysitting was not cool), it was his choice. After all, he was in charge of looking after her now.
If only they still had a dad…
But surely he could leave her outside for a moment, he just had to run in the shop quick. He had run out of cigarettes and well, he didn’t want her knowing he smoked. Al was constantly torn between trying to fit in with his delinquent friends and being a good brother. Just because he shouldn’t have to raise Kat didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try his hardest until they found Hershel.
Plus, then he could rub it in his face.
He was quick. Knew what he wanted, got in, got out. So imagine his surprise when Katrielle was simply Gone. For fuck’s sake he had just left her outside the store, where could she have gone to. Panic filled his chest. Oh he’s really fucked it up this time.
“STOP!” It was her voice, around the corner. He bolted in the direction where he heard her screaming and whining. No one else seemed to hear or care that there was clearly a child in distress. His blood began to boil.
“Alfendi!” He had found her and she had been so excited to see him, tears falling from her eyes. There were three boys with her, older than him, college aged. One had a firm grip on her wrist where she was violently tugging to try and get away.
“Aw, you know this fella?” One of the men said to her.
“Alfendi!” She whined again, wiggling more against the grasp at her wrist.
“Let. Her. Go.” He spoke through gritted teeth, trying his best to not immediately murder them. That probably wouldn’t look too good on his police application.
One of the men laughed. Alfendi was scrawny and lanky and not at all intimidating, he knew this. But they didn’t know what he was capable of. He spoke again, careful in his word choice.
“She’s with me.”
“We were just trying to teach her a lesson, little girls shouldn’t be out by themselves, you know.” He yanked her wrist and she tumbled towards them. Al still kept his distance, calculating.
“Hey man-” It was the one in the back who had been quiet so far. He was talking to the one holding Kat. “Let her go, that’s enough.” He turned to Al now. “We didn’t hurt her, just looking to give her a scare, man.”
“Shut up, I’m in control here,” the leader spoke, but the sweat on his forehead betrayed him. Al knew he could easily win this.
“You shut up and listen here.” Al started advancing towards them, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a pocket knife, turning the blade quickly towards them. Their eyes widened. “Drop the girl. Or none of you will be walking out of here.” He’d never used the blade on someone else before, he carried it because he liked the weight and the power he felt from having it on him.
But let’s be clear here, Alfendi was not afraid to use it if he had to. There was thrill inside him, lightning coursing through his blood. He laughed like a crazed man.
“This guy’s fucking crazy.” They were scared. Good. He dropped Kat’s wrist and she ran, still sobbing and held onto Al’s pant leg. He gave her a quick pat on the head, and kissed her forehead. He turned his attention back to the boys who had begun slowly backing up.
“I’m not done with you.” He kept advancing on them, Kat now at his side. “You wanted to teach her a lesson? I intend to see that you’re taught one too.” He rolled his shoulders and then shrugged a little smirking, his confidence like a drug. He was unstoppable, high on adrenaline and loving it.
The boys took one glance at each other before running away. Al quickly slipped his knife away before crouching down to Kat’s eye level, only slightly disappointed he hadn’t been able to hurt them. He kissed her forehead again and wiped her tears away.
“Shh, shh, I’m so sorry that happened, I’m sorry I left you alone, this is my fault- are you okay?” She nodded through her sniffles. “I promise it won’t happen again, okay? I got you now.” She smiled a little. He scooped her up, hoisting her up into his arms to carry her the rest of the short way home. She was definitely too big and too old for this but he didn’t care; no one else was coming near her, not on his watch.
“Thank you, Alfendi.” He held her a little tighter. He was embarrassed and ashamed and mostly angry. At himself. All because he couldn’t wait for his smokes. He halfway considered quitting right then, but he still needed them.
Hershel, come back, we need you. I can’t do this alone.
“Hey Al,” Kat said, drawing his attention back to her. “You were kinda scary back there.” Oh no, he hadn’t even considered- “It was so cool!” She exclaimed, clearly excited. “When we get home can I see your knife?”
Oh. He felt his face heat up a little. So much for trying to be a good normal brother. “Um, maybe Kat we’ll see. Just uh, don’t mention this to anyone okay? It can be our little secret.”
“As long as I can see your knife!”
“Shhh!” He groaned. She was certainly a handful, but he loved her nonetheless.
————
Interested in more Layton family content? My AO3 is here! Also I’m still open to requests!
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somnoservicepupp · 3 months
Text
waking up i feel their body weight on top of me. comfortably acting as a weighted blanket in our sleep. i go to adjust slightly into comfort and thats when it starts.
their fingers, softly next to my head before, spring like a bear trap to tangle into my curls and grab my hair as hard as they possibly can. they pull my head back to its original position and i let a small whimper out. they whisper in my ear, “morning puppy. why don’t you help me take off your shirt?”
i blush, shaking a little as i try so hard to adjust to the shock of adrenaline from their sudden pull and lean my lower back up as much as possible as they start to slip my shirt off. they have me shift slowly, never fully giving up control of how my body is moving beneath them. when they get my shirt fully off they lean close, “sweet pup, youre so good for me. i think im gonna have a lot of fun with you.”
before i can respond they move quickly, one hand returns to my hair. when i don’t squirm too much it very softly scratches the back of my head, giving me a small level of security and comfort. if that changes at all, i make too much noise or try to pull away, they take a firm grasp on my hair, pull me back into place, and listen until i quiet down or apologize. the other hand pins my wrists down as they move down my body. no gentle kiss to start, i soon feel their teeth dig into my skin. it feels less like a bite and more like a wild animal, locking its jaw down on prey to rip pieces from it. they dont take any chunks from me this time, opting instead to make as much of the space from my breasts to my hips as badly bruised as they can manage.
i let out cries of pain and little other noise. once they’ve gotten bored of using my skin like a chew toy, they return to my face. they give me gentle scratches to calm me down and release my wrists, taking a moment to wipe my few tears away and kiss me. their kiss is passionate and makes me think maybe the pain is over. they rub my cheek and slowly slide their hand down my face to my neck. i can feel them rolling an artery briefly to find where to strike.
the moment they begin choking me i start to worry. their grip is tight and all they are doing is smiling and mocking me. “does the puppy need something?” “oh are you choking my sweet?” “just take let me know when to stop okay?” but that is just to make me comforted for the fun of stealing it away. i try to move their arm, beg them near silently to stop. i can feel my body getting fuzzy, something must be wrong. they surely notice, but still just smile and squeeze, now gentle grinding their incredibly warm hips against my body as they do. things start to slow. i wasn’t exactly fighting back well, but its only getting weaker. they lean down and whisper “now you’ve learned your place yeah pet? i don’t feel like fucking a corpse today, but know that i have that power.” they let go and i gasp. sobbing under their control.
they remove their hands from my hair and neck. i take that time to close my eyes and let a tears flow for a moment as i regain my breath. i feel them shifting but im too busy trying to calm myself to look at why. they’re still sitting on me after all. not much i can do. it takes what feels like a few minutes of slight movements and something being rummaged through on my side for the sound to stop. i take one more deep breath and open my eyes to see what they were doing, now close to fully still sitting on my stomach.
i cant tell if i see it or hear it first. the smooth swish of what appears to be a recently sharpened blade opening above me. they hold it close to my face to let me see it as they look with passionate examination of their own. its well loved, paint chipped with small rust forming on the base. a pocket knife, one for opening boxes or packed in a survival kit. they set it down softly next to my face and kiss me passionately again. i feel them slowly taking off my pants, their pants. we eventually lay naked, them still on top of me. the gentleness and affection shown in this moment makes me calm. i can feel their hand softly running against my thighs, they shift in such a way that allows for them to grind against my cock. i let out soft moans and they do the same. we make each other get wetter and wetter, slow and steady in our action. i relax and close my eyes as i feel myself inside them and let out a shaky moan. my first word of the night “please”. they smile and start to ride me.
i let out a sharp breath as i feel cold steal against my throat and thrust hard into them in surprise. they let out a moan and a short laugh, pressing the blade harder into my neck. the tears return in force as i realize any breath too deep could mean blood. they slowly remove the blade from my throat over time moving it further down. at some point, in the heat of them being on top of me and the two of us moaning and getting closer to release, i feel the very tip of the blade rest over my heart. it never presses fully, but with every thrust up it raises, and with every slide down it falls. the constant pinprick of the knife against me filling me with fear that i can barely process around the pleasure.
at some point i finish. it doesn’t matter as they keep riding me and keep using me. the overstimulation also making the pain from blade slipping against my skin, never breaking but always threatening a break, start to almost feel like relief from what they are doing to the rest of me. when they finish they close the blade and lay on top of me. i let out one final shaky moan as my cock leaves them. they pet my face with a large smile. i am shaking, covered in bruises, thick red lines from nearly spilt blood, my own sweat and tears, and the slowly mixing cum of both of us.
“you’re so good for me puppy. now, catch your breath. i wanna go again.”
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modern-vellichor · 2 years
Note
Hi! I loved your adrian chase fic so much he's such a sweetie 🧜‍♂️🖤 Is it okay if I request an adrian fic where reader's usually quiet and usually works with the tech stuff (secretly an asassin but only leota knows) but when he gets captured reader is ruthless when they fight and rescues him or sumth and his feelings for them is amplified like 1000x and gets super turned on
-a/n; i love love love this. i have been thinking about this all day. -warnings; violence :), blood, nsfw 18+
"Fuck," you murmured, typing frantically at your laptop.
Harcourt had lost communication twenty minutes ago, but Vigilante and Peacemaker were still online, and Leota had assured that Harcourt was fine. John tried to get her comms back up and running, but couldn't. Then Peacemaker went dark with Leota. The panic was already setting in, even though Vigilante was doing his best to keep you calm. But then he screamed, and all communication had been lost. That was five minutes ago, and only God knows what could be happening in that goddamned basement.
"Economos, can you get a visual?"
"No."
You mulled the idea over in your head. You'd be risking your life. You hadn't been on the filed in years. All of your skills were rusty. It was the only choice. John quizzed you while you hurriedly loaded a gun. You didn't give him much of an explanation before you were bounding out of the van and towards the stairwell.
You could hear muffled screams as you reached the door to the basement. You kicked the door open. Your four agents were gagged and tied to chairs. A group of very large men gathered around them. They all turned to stare at you. Leota's screams grew panicked, more so than before. She was warning you. You could make out her muffled begs of "Run". But you stood your ground.
The first man lunged at you. You raised your gun and shot. It took three bullets before he fell to the ground. Your one gun wasn't going to cut it. Adrian wriggled in his chair, trying to loosen the ropes around his wrists. He watched you fight, totally enamoured with you. He fell even more in love with you as more blood soaked your clothes. He audibly moaned when he watched you take a knife from a dead man's body.
The knife felt familiar in your grip. The blood was hot and sticky against your skin. Only three men remained. You launched yourself at the biggest. You threw yourself at him, swinging your legs up and around his neck. You sunk the blade into the side of his neck, hitting all the major arteries. He fell. You landed on your feet, immediately knocking the second man down. He died when his head hit the floor.
Adrian squirmed in his chair again - he was getting very hard.
The last man fell to his knees. You stood behind him, facing the four. You were bloodied and bruised, and totally spent. You were panting heavily. Adrian had to hold back a pathetic whimper at the sight.
"I want you to know," you grunted, pulling the man's hair so that his neck snapped back and he was forced to meet your gaze. "That my face is going to be the last you'll ever see."
You slit his throat.
You approached Peacemaker, who looked stunned and a little frightened. You cut all the ropes that tied their wrists and one by one, the group returned to the van. Adrian was the last to be freed. He caught his breath and you made to leave. He grabbed your wrist. He stood up and pulled you into his chest. Very suddenly, he kissed you. He kissed you hard. You could feel the bulge in his pants and you whined.
"When we get outta here," he mumbled. "I'm gonna fuck you so hard."
"Adrian!" You giggled, slapping his chest playfully.
"I swear," he grinned, wrapping an arm around your waist as you sauntered out of the basement. "You look, like, super hot covered in blood."
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fezphoria · 2 years
Note
Hi!!! I wanted to request a Fez x Reader that relates to Zendaya/Labrinth’s lyric
“Hell, I'll do 25 to life
If it makes me a king
A star in your eyes.”
Where reader is trying to take the blame in 2x08 to help Ash and Fez to not get as much time. But obviously Fez wouldn’t let that happen. Something angsty but also very fluffy cause of protective and in love Fez. ♥️ thx
Fez hits Ash clear across the face with so much force that the kid hits the ground. 
Vaguely, you know Fez is telling Ash that he’ll take the fall. You can hear his and Ash’s shivering inhales and exhales. But all you see is the knife fall from Ash’s hand and land on the carpet. Before you can even think about it, you drop to your knees and pick it up. The blood is still hot, and slippery. 
You look up to find Fez and Ash both staring at you. Ashtray’s face is blood and tear stained.
“Run.” You say, heart racing. “Take Faye with you.”
“Give me the knife.” Fez answers, his voice hard. Ashtray’s eyes are wide - you’ve never seen him look like that.
“No.” 
“I’m not fucking asking.” Fez bites out, and when you stand up he reaches for you but you step back, out of his reach. 
“I can’t let either of you take the fall for this.”
Fez looks stricken.
“Don’t be fucking stupid.” He tells you, and when you shake your head, he lunges for you. You’re fast, but not fast enough - it’s easy to forget how agile and strong Fez is. His hand wraps around your wrist and his other tries to pry the blade out from your fingers.
"You're gonna have to kill me if you wanna take the fall for this." He promises. "Imma die before I let something happen to you or Ash."
The undeniable reality of the situation hits you when you see the blood smear on both your hands, when you feel your whole body jolting with each tug he gives your hand.
“Let go.” He orders, and you start to cry. He tugs again, and your body moves with the force of it.
“No.” You plead.
“Look at me.” He says, his grip on your wrist still vice-like. “You need to leave with Ash. I need you to take care of him for me.”
He’s dead serious. You’ve never heard pain in his voice like this, not even when he talks about his grandmother, not even when he talks about his father. 
His hand gives your wrist another brutal squeeze and you let go of the boxcutter. It looks so awful, the boxcutter in his hand.
“Take Ash, wash your hands, and go out there with Faye and surrender. They won’t hurt you if you surrender peacefully, you hear me?”
You want to be strong. You have to be strong. And you realize taking the fall for this is the weak thing to do. Fez will still go down for the drugs, and Ash will have nobody at all.
“Okay.” You say, and your voice sounds like you’re underwater. At least, that’s how it sounds to your own ears.
You turn to Ash, and find that he’s already gone.
“Ash?” You call.
Fez whips around, and swears.
“Go find him.” He says, worry coloring his voice.
You’re already halfway out the room, checking Fez’s room, the bathroom, and then finding him bent in front of the washing machine.
“Ashtray, put that shit down.” 
He has a box of bullets in one hand, and a rifle in the other.
He looks at you with faux calm and shakes his head.
“If you do this, you will lose Fez forever. And you’ll break his fucking heart.” You say. “Come with me, wash your hands, and I promise to take care of you.”
Ash looks his age, for once. The smear of blood under his nose almost looks like he got hurt playing outside, or roughhousing with a friend. You want to wipe it away and hold him and tell him everything will be okay, like he’s just scraped his knee badly and needs a kiss to make it better.
“What about him?” He asks, and your heart leaps at the fact that he’s even speaking with you.
“We’ll figure it out. We’ll visit, we’ll call, we’ll write. I don’t fucking know, Ash. What matters is neither of you are dead.”
Ash looks like he’s almost listening to you. He hardly ever obeys the man who raised him, so there’s less incentive for him to listen to you,  his brother’s girlfriend. But you know he loves you, even if it’s in his own way, even if his ideal world is just him and his brother against the world. 
And you’re not being fair with the guilt trip you’re about to pull, but you don’t care about playing dirty right now.
“I couldn’t take it if something happened to the both of you. I couldn’t live with that.” Your voice is shaking, and it’s not fake. “Please.”
Then you tug the gun out of his hand and toss it back into the washing machine. 
“Let’s wash our hands.” You say, and when Ashtray blinks, a tear falls down his face. He nods.
You both scrub your hands down at the sink, the water turning pink as it drains. 
Ashtray looks like he’s not in his body. You grab his face with one hand, turning his faze from the water to look up at you.
“Go say goodbye to your brother.” You order. “It’s just goodbye for now.”
Then you shove him out the door and follow him down the hall. He splits off to go into the living room and you go into the kitchen, taking hold of Faye by the shoulders.
“Hey.” You keep your voice soft. If Ashtray seemed a little bit out of body, Faye looks like she’s on another planet entirely. “You saved the day. I’m sorry it all went fucking sideways.”
She looks at you, but you’re not sure if she sees you.
“We gotta go, Faye.”
“Where?” She almost turns her head to look at Custer’s body again but you step in front of her.
“Outside. We have to go outside and surrender. I don’t want you getting hurt.”
Her hands come up to your wrists, and although her touch is light, the right wrist still aches. You can see a bruise blooming.
She looks at you with her huge eyes, and even though Custer was a piece of shit, your heart still aches for her. She's your friend, and she tried to save all of you, and this is all so beyond fucked up.
“You’ll come with me?” She asks.
“Of course.” You tell her. “They’ll be here any second, go wait by the door for me.”
She nods, and turns to leave without you having to move her.
When you look back, you see Fez kissing the very top of Ashtray’s head.
“Go.” He says, and Ash does so, looking like he wants to cry. He passes by you in the kitchen, taking the stairs down to his room. Through the window, you can see him stand by Faye at the door.
“Baby.” Fez calls, and you turn again. On autopilot, you walk towards him, past Custer’s body, past the blood spatter.
You stand in front of him. Just moments ago, placing the phone in a cup of soda, he looked like he was going to be sick. Now, he’s as calm as ever. Or as calm as one can be. You feel hysterical next to him.
“I love you.” You choke out. 
Faye had been right, Fez looks more handsome without the tie. His hands are stained red, though, which takes away from it a bit.
“Look at me.”
You don’t want to. You lift your eyes from his hands, from that fucking gore covered knife, and look him in the eyes.
“You’re my girl, okay? And I’m gonna love you forever.” He says.
The words knock the wind out of you.
“Stop talking like you’ll never get out.” You urge, shaking your head. “It was self defense, he hit Ashtray.”
Fez sighs.
“Give me something to think about when I’m locked up.” He answers, and you grab the front of his shirt and kiss him hard.
Your face is hot, and the tears escape for a second time.
“Don’t cry.” he murmurs, brushing his nose along your own and kissing your cheek. “Don’t cry.”
You draw in a shaky breath, and he kisses you on the corner of your open mouth.
“Kiss me again?” He asks, and you do it immediately, like he’s planted the idea straight into your brain. You bring your hands up to the back of his neck, and you wish he could hold you back, if it wasn’t for the blood on his hands.
“I love you.” You say, breaking the kiss and opening your eyes. He looks right back into your eyes. 
“Go.”
The smell of blood is filling your nostrils. Metallic and sour and heavy. You worry for a moment that the smell of it will always remind you of this moment, of this kiss, of Fez.
“I love you.” You repeat, because it’s the only thing you can say to him. You need him to know it. 
“I love you.” He says back. “I’d lay down on the railroad tracks for you.”
You let go of him, step away, and turn.
It takes everything in you to not turn back.
When you get to the bottom of the stairs, Faye turns to you with wide eyes.
“I think they’re drilling the door off the hinges.”
You glance at Ashtray, who looks like he’s seen a ghost.
“We surrender!” You shout. “Let us out! We surrender!”
The drilling stops. You step in front of the door, and with a shaking hand, undo all the locks. Then you put your hand on the door knob, twist it, and pull the door open.
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Note
I have a request: Bucky Barnes x Reader where the reader isn’t an avenger or anything. Like a regular civilian. And she murdered someone violently for defence reasons and shows up at the Avengers tower, shaking and bloodied. I feel like you could write this really well.
— hallucinations —
Warnings: lots of blood, injuries, sexual harassment, PTSD, anxiety attacks, stalking, mental disorder (erotomania, schizophrenia, bipolar), slight mentions of death, angst, fluff
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: After an life changing night, Bucky finally realises how much he loves you.
Word Count: 5903
A/N: I know anon said that reader shouldn't be involved with the Avengers, but I hope this is better than she being an Avenger. God, I love it when you guys give me requests! Let me know what you think!
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——��
Wandering through the streets at night, it felt like someone was watching you. Goosebumps erupted along your arms as icy fingers gripped your biceps, shoving you forcefully into an empty alleyway. Terror seeped into your bones when the hands pushed you against the wall, knocking your head harshly against the bricks. You could feel the warm red fluid drip down your face, soaking your white shirt in crimson. You stood still for a second before tripping over your feet as the man turned you to face him.
He grabbed your face and kissed you, the taste of alcohol invading your mouth. When you shoved him away from you, he shouted, “Stay still, princess, and—”
You didn’t let the man finish, slashing his torso once with your switchblade, a gift from your older brother when you moved into the city. Use it when you feel unsafe, idiot he had said with a nervous chuckle and glance at your parents. Your father had only shrugged and gave your brother a proud look. Your mother, however, shook her head and started to explain that you had to be careful when using it. You watched the man stumble back, clutching his stomach.
You took the chance and ran out to the streets, no one taking a second glance at you, not interested in why your head was bleeding—New York definitely had seen worse. Bloodied and shaking, you found yourself heading back to the Avengers Tower. Without even a glance back, you knew that the man was following you. You could hear his shouts and curses aimed at you, but you started running faster. Your eyesight blurred in and out focus when you reached the tower, skipping a step as you dashed inside. The man stopped right at the bottom of the steps, both of your chests heaving heavily.
“Y/N?” The voice startled you so much that you screamed and backed up against the door. Your eyes darted to the wide blue ones and you slashed the knife, shaking violently, but Bucky only let his gaze wander your body. Your shirt was coated in crimson and the knife in your hand only increased his fears.
“Shit,” he mumbled when his eyes landed on the deep wound on your head. He stalked over to you, dodging the knife with ease and holding you close to him when your knees gave away. You were shaking violently and mumbling something unintelligent against his shoulder. He could only rub your back in what he hoped was soothing. “FRIDAY, call Steve.”
“He’s been informed of Miss Y/S’s state, Sergeant Barnes,” FRIDAY replied in an instance. “Is there anything else?” You had started to pass out, causing alarms to go off in Bucky’s brain. He heard your blade clatter to the ground and he glanced down at it.
“Tell the team members to meet me in the medical bay,” Bucky answered, picking you up bridal style in one swift movement and grabbing the knife. “It’s an emergency.” He flicked his wrist, tucking the blade into the hilt with ease while holding you.
“They’ve been informed,” FRIDAY said as Bucky stepped into the elevator, thankful that FRIDAY could operate it. When the elevator came to a stop, he heard your breathing getting shallower and he rushed out, calling out for Bruce or Dr. Cho.
“What happened to her?” Dr. Cho asked, Bruce right behind her. His eyes grew a fraction, a bit of green appearing on the sides of his throat. Bucky knew that the reaction of the rest of the team would be similar.
They all adored you and seeing you in this state would make all of them go feral. Hell, he almost threw everything Dr. Raynor had told him out the window and hurt whoever hurt you, even if he only knew you for about half a year. He could see the deep wound on your head, a bit covered by your hair. He knew the signs of hallucinations when you backed up against the door, slashing the air with your switchblade, with crazed eyes looking right through him—it broke his heart. But then you had passed out and he could only focus on getting you to the medical bay, barely remembering to tell Steve, or anyone, about your distressed state.
“Where is she, Buck?” Steve asked, running up to Bucky. Steve was wearing just sweatpants, his hair tangled from his pillow, indicating that he was actually asleep. Bucky nodded at the room, unable to say anything because of the weird bubbling feeling rising from his stomach to his throat. Steve walked over to the window, looking at your figure laid on the bed. “Shit.” Steve backed away and sat down on a chair, putting his head in his hands.
The rest of the team piled into the hallway, each glancing into your room and then opting to either sit or pace around. Sam had been the one to try to tell everyone that they should get some rest while one stays here, bringing up the fact that you would’ve said the same. Everyone had argued who was going to stay, causing him to roll his eyes and throw his hands up in the air and take back his words. He had glanced at your figure before leaning back into his chair. Natasha was the only one able to watch Bruce and Dr. Cho operate on you, cleaning and disinfecting the wound and so on. Tony was pacing the halls, moving to the side to avoid a collision with Wanda, on the phone with security when he saw the footage of you running from a madman.
Bucky had been the quiet one, hands and clothes covered in your drying blood. Everyone wanted information on what happened to you and it was him they wanted it from. Luckily, he knew this beforehand so he told Steve as much as he knew. He had seen the man over your shoulder and described him. Steve then told Tony about the man and Tony had thrown a fit about your safety and declared that you would have security from now on. Natasha had clenched her jaw, nostrils flaring as Tony showed a hologram of the madman. Steve punched the wall and let his knuckles bleed, refusing any type of aid. Sam and Wanda only glared at the picture while Vision gave mere suggestions to Tony about security.
“Guys,” Bruce started, taking a look around the hall as he stepped out the room. Everyone stood up and surrounded him, waiting for an answer to a silent question. “She’s okay. Lost some blood, but we had some of her type and—she’s okay. That’s all we can say about her physical state.” Bruce took off his lab coat as the team took a step back, noticing the slight green tinge on the doctor.
Bucky stood still next to the window, watching your chest rise and fall along with the lines on the monitor. The fear that had appeared in your eyes when you turned around was something he never wanted to see again. The first few weeks he met you had revolved around him ignoring your presence, but you were adamant on being so kind and nice that it kind of scared him. He couldn’t trust you after everything he had gone through, not yet sure whether you were a friend or foe. He had tried to ignore the way you let a warm smile spread on your face for him to see, even sometimes at him, or the way your finger grazed his hand when you gave him his coffee in the morning.
After about two months, he opened up to you, finally building up the courage to trust you. He looked forward to your smiles and the slight touches that lit his skin on fire. He started to look forward to your presence, even going the distance and trading Steve’s company for yours. He sought you out during movie nights, sitting next to you and laying his head in your lap so that you could run your hands through his hair. If he was sitting before you, you would immediately sit down next to him, knowing that he saved you a seat, and laid your head on his shoulder. He glanced at your wrapped head, an uneasy feeling in his chest. The feeling started to spread around his body as the team started to converse about what was to be done.
“She’ll stay at the tower,” Tony said, earning murmurs of agreement from the team. “I’ll have a moving team—”
“No need,” Steve interrupted, wiping his hands on his thighs. He glanced towards Bucky, eyes finding your figure again. “We’ll do it. I wouldn’t trust anyone who isn’t in this team to do that.” Steve’s leg was bouncing rapidly, a nervous habit that told anyone who knew him that he was on edge.
“I’m with you on that, Rogers,” Tony agreed, seemingly able to forget about his daily head-butting with Steve for you. Neither Steve nor Tony seem to notice this fact, glancing at your room door in almost unison.
“How long will she be here?” Wanda asked Bruce, crossing her arms over her stomach as if she felt sick.
Bruce lifted one shoulder and replied, “Until she wakes up. Give or take.” He flung his coat onto the chair next to your door, letting out a sigh. “We need to evaluate her mental state when she wakes up.” The team hummed in response, a few murmurs of agreement.
Bucky noticed the use of the word ‘when’ rather than ‘if’ and it gave him some sort of comfort. A sense of relief that made his shoulders drop their tense posture and he leaned against the window frame. He let his guard down for a second, tears welling up in eyes as a cruel voice in his head spit out ideas of you not being here. You probably would have been bleeding out somewhere if you didn’t have the switchblade. Bucky’s thumb grazed over the words engraved on it, remembering you telling him—even though he didn’t acknowledge you that day, being the time he didn’t know if you were wearing a mask—that it was a gift from your older brother.
“Bucky?” Bucky hummed, looking up at Bruce with a lazy look, the guards coming back up. “What was she like? What did she do or say when you found her?”
“I didn’t find her, doc,” Bucky said platonically, ignoring the eyes of his teammates. “She was in the lobby when I stepped out the elevator for a walk. I said her name, she screamed, slashed the air—” Bucky held up the knife for everyone to see— “and then collapsed.”
“We need something more detailed than that,” Bruce urged, looking into Bucky’s eyes with a flare hidden behind calm brown orbs.
“What do you want me to say?” Bucky snapped, his fear for you turning into anger. Bruce barely even flinched at Bucky‘s reaction, only blinking a bit quickly before huffing out a breath. He shook his head and sank down in the chair he had thrown his lab coat on. Steve patted Bucky’s shoulder before sitting back down.
Bucky clenched his jaw and looked down, letting his thumb run over the words again. You have to be odd to be number one. A quote by Dr. Suess, an author that your brother seemed to love as a boy. He couldn’t talk about the fear, the horrified, completely terrified face he saw etched onto your face. It tugged on some strings in his heart and caused his head to spin. The feeling made him wonder why he felt like his own life was on the line. He pulled away from his thoughts, looking at the steady lines on the monitor and willing himself to see reality.
“Can we meet her?” Steve asked Bruce, his knuckles now bandaged. Bucky looked at the team, noticing the way they all seem to flinch awake at Steve’s request. Hell, his own eyes had widened and darted in hope.
“Well,” Bruce started, furrowing his eyebrows as he put some thought into it, “I would say yes, but, uh, Helen has to clear it. She knows more of these things than me.” Just as Bruce finished his sentence, Helen stepped out of your room with a painful smile.
“She can’t see everyone right now,” Helen answered, holding the door slightly open. Bucky could hear the faint beep of the monitor and it calmed his nerves.
“Can’t some of us go in?” Natasha looked at Helen with a face that meant not to deny her.
“Only one person.” At the uproar of the team, fighting each other who was going to meet you, Helen added loudly, “She asked for Bucky.” Everyone stopped talking and turned to face Bucky, staring at him expectantly. He didn’t look at them, but looked at Helen and nodded with an expressionless face. Helen smiled a bit more warmly, building up the courage to give it. It didn’t reach her eyes, but Bucky knew what she meant; she needs you. Bucky let her open the door wider and step to the side to let him through. Bucky nodded once, looking over his shoulder at her, before stepping closer to you.
He spotted the chair next to your bed and hesitated to sit down on it. He eyed your hand, letting his own intertwine into yours just as you had done with him when he was shot on a mission last week. Last week felt so far away from right now, like it was years ago. He could remember your broken ‘hi’ and the way you seemed to have stayed up until he woke. His heart was thundering in his ears when your eyes fluttered open at his touch. He watched your eyes land on him, hand tugging his, giving him a warm smile.
“Did I scare the big ol’ Bucky Barnes?” You teased, voice quiet and scratchy.
“Yeah,” he sighed, finally feeling like he had to get that off his chest, and who better to tell than you. When you snorted, mustering up a smile, he narrowed his eyes at you, the smile faltering on your lips.
“What?” Your eyes showed all the emotions you weren’t displaying. It made Bucky’s heart skip a beat and not in the way that was considered good. He loved and hated the fact that you could bottle up your emotions and hide them away until you were away from prying eyes. But he didn’t want you to keep your feelings away from him.
“Don’t act like you aren’t scared,” he whispered sternly, tightening his hold on your hand. “I saw you and I know you. You can’t bottle up your feelings, not from me at least.” He watched the rest of smile fade away, the crinkle next to your eyes disappearing in an instant. He felt his stomach drop as tears sprung into your eyes, hand twitching in Bucky’s grasp. Then Bucky found himself lifting your hand up to his lips, grazing your knuckles before he kissed the soft skin. His lips lingered, he let them, eyes watching your reaction.
“Can you stay here?” You asked after a few minutes of silence. You sighed in relief when he nodded quickly, pressing another kiss on the back of your hand. “That chair’s not comfy.” You bit the inside of your cheek, looking at the mostly empty room.
“It’s okay, doll,” Bucky said, shaking his head dismissively. “I’ll be fine.”
“You sure ‘bout that?” You whispered, feeling yourself being dragged into slumber. Your sceptical look made Bucky smile, but Bucky could barely manage a nod before your eyes were drooping close again.
“Get some rest, doll,” Bucky said, leaning back in his chair with an adoring gaze on you. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”
———
“He’s filing a harassment case against her,” Tony told everyone, hitting his mug against the glass table, evidently livid with the information. He took off his blazer and placed it over the chair, rolling his sleeves to his elbows. He loosened his tie and pulled out his phone. Throwing up an image of the documents as a hologram, hovering over the middle of the table, he said, “I called the best lawyer I know and he’s willing to take up the case.”
“It won’t be hard to prove the man,” Steve paused for a moment, reading the madman’s name, “Apollo Frensby, is a complete psychopath. He fits the description for the shooting at the Smithsonian two week prior, the one Bucky got shot in.” Natasha walked in, throwing a file onto the table. She looked just as furious as Tony, if not, more. She glared at the documents on display, a dangerous fire dancing in her emerald eyes.
“What’s this?” Sam asked, picking up a file and flipping through it while Natasha informed everyone of what she had found.
“He’s been following her for months, but kept his distance.”
“Why’d he come close now?” Sam tossed the file onto the desk, only to have Wanda snatch it up before Steve could, skimming through the papers and photos. Everyone in the room visibly cringed when Natasha pulled out a chair, letting it screech against the floor. Tony rolled his eyes, huffing slightly and grimacing at the lines on the floor.
“Apparently she’s been getting cosy with a certain super-soldier and he doesn’t like it one bit,” Natasha said in one breath, cringing as the words tumbled out of her mouth. Her eyes darted to Bucky, clenching her jaw as she caught the eyes of pure pain and anger.
“So he’s a crazy dude who’s infatuated with me?”
Bucky held you tighter to his chest, a bubble of protection and worry popping. He took a second to enjoy the way your hands wrapped around his wrists and head settled against his shoulder, a silent way of telling him that you were okay. You were taking the news really well on the outside, but he knew that you were anything but okay from the inside.
The day after you woke, Bucky had finally confessed that he was scared shitless for you and you had understood what he meant by it. After that, you both had fallen into an easy relationship—something between best friends and dating, never making anything official—and no one had questioned the slight change in your relationship. Steve had opened his mouth to say something when he found Bucky laying next to you in the medical wing, but Sam had nudged him and shook his head. It seemed that everyone had understood the message, still not having said anything about Bucky and you.
“It’s not that simple,” Natasha said, giving you a glance before pulling out a stack of letters from one of her back pockets and a stack of photos from her other, both tied with a bright red rubber band. She threw the rubbers towards the middle, spreading the pictures in front of her and throwing the letters in the middle. She crossed her arms and looked at you with concern. “You’re not going anywhere anytime soon, especially by yourself.”
“We’ve already established that,” you huffed, leaning forward to look at the pictures. “I’ve barely even stepped outside since the incident.” No one talked about the incident in front of you, trying to treat you like glass. That only made you feel worse about the situation, the only person being Bucky to not treat you like you would break at any second and argued for you to be part of these meetings.
Bucky let his arms fall from your middle to rest his hands on your waist, thumbs creating soothing circles that broke you from your thoughts. “You okay, doll?” He whispered into your ear, only loud enough for you to hear—maybe Steve. His breath was hot against your skin, fanning over the pulse point under your ear. You held back a shudder and nodded, eyes darting over the pictures of you in common places; the bar your friend owns, the library where you volunteer, Bucky’s favourite cafe, outside your apartment building, the park.
“This is…” Wanda trailed off, fingers moving the photos aside to look at them closely. Her brows furrowed when she saw a picture of you and Bucky, outside the cafe, smiling and laughing. Bucky’s face was scribbled through with red, the word ‘DESTROY’ written in black over him, while your face was untouched.
“It’s a sign of erotomania,” you quipped, glancing at Sam who quickly had said ‘what’. “It’s a delusional disorder when an individual thinks that someone is in love with them.”
“How do you know that?” Bruce asked, confusion etched on his face.
You shrugged and answered, “I took a course called Anthropology, Sociology, and Psychology in high school, most called it ASP for short, and I paid attention a bit more during the mental illness unit. I guess it stuck in my head somewhere.”
“What causes the disorder?” Sam asked, taking an interest in the information.
You licked your lips and answered, “Most of the time it’s a symptom of an existent mental disorder, like schizophrenia or bipolar, but it could also be genes. It could also be the cause of overdosing on drugs or an alcohol addict. Either way, the person starts to think that the other person is completely in love with them. In some cases, the patient starts to hallucinate and see things that aren’t real. In Apollo’s case—” you looked at the pictures and skimmed through a letter— “he seems to think that I know him and love him just as much as he does. Look, he’s been writing letters as if I’ve written him back.”
In every letter you and the team looked in, there was some sort of indication that he thought you had written him back. Things like I’m glad you asked about my day or I ate some vanilla ice cream and remembered it was your favourite. It wasn’t your favourite per se, but Apollo’s mind was adamant that he knew you. There were some other things that Apollo said about you that were false; except the fact that you were growing closer to Bucky. Apollo made it very easier to note the anger and frustration that he was going through for the past year, telling you that Bucky wasn’t your friend, but a monster.
“Why would he place a harassment case if he was—if he believed you were in love?” Steve asked, eyes narrowing slightly as he thought about it. His eyes glanced up to you, brows rising in question.
“I’m not a hundred percent sure,” you replied slowly, racking your brain for anything else on the matter. You had gone to high school over a decade ago, but some things stuck to you. This class was one you had enjoyed—like the other classes that had great teachers that made it their job to make school fun and educational without it feeling like a prison. “It might be because he feels betrayed by how close me and Bucky have gotten. Pure jealousy or a plan to break us apart. I don’t know.”
“That could be it,” Bruce muttered loud enough for everyone to hear. The team nodded and fell into a comfortable silence, one that made the tension drop ever so slightly.
The silence continued for the next hour. The only noises were small comments here and there, some sighs and stretching. Sam had made it his mission to keep everyone awake by delivering coffee and snacks, mumbling to himself about how no one wanted to take care of themselves. Then Wanda decided to put on soft melodies, pulling out another chair to rest her feet on. The other Avengers were also getting comfortable, laying down on the floor or couches that Tony had insisted on having. Natasha had taken the spot on the table next to Tony, sprawled across it and surrounded by papers. It reminded you of studying for exams with your friends in college.
Bucky had grabbed a few files and let you know that you were to stay close to him the entire time. Of course, you were getting restless. With the Avengers looking into the man who assaulted you, you didn’t even want to be here. Your heart was screaming at you to run out the room and hide there until Apollo was found. But you took one look at Bucky’s face and decided that there was no place safer than the tower where your family was.
“Mr. Stark!” Peter rushed into the debriefing room, hair a total mess when he pulled off his mask. He frantically looked around the room, eyes landing on you and immediately freezing.
“Pete?” Tony said, getting up from his position on the table to take a better look at the teenager. Peter’s head snapped to Tony before he shook his head, relaxing and waving an awkward wave to everyone in the room.
“Sorry,” he muttered, eyes landing on you again. “I, uh, heard what happened to you and I’m so, so sorry.” His eyes filled with tears, looking at you with pure concern and worry that made your heart ache. Peter was always a sensitive person and always looked after you and everyone he loved. He had taken to you as an older sister when you met over a year ago, introducing you to May when you had mentioned that you could bring old books to the shelter she worked in.
You got up and made your way to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He clutched onto you whispering how sorry he was that he wasn’t there to protect you and how very hopeless he felt. You could feel the multiple pairs of eyes on you two, but you ignored them completely. You let Peter wet your shirt, rubbing his back with soothing words being whispered into his hair.
“You can’t protect everyone Peter. No one expects you to either. I certainly don’t.” You paused, hearing his mumble of apologises again. “Peter, I mean it. Sometimes things are out of your control and there’s nothing you can do about it. But what you can do is help those you can.”
Peter chuckled against your shoulder and mumbled, “May told you that, didn’t she?” He pulled away and nodded a little at your giggle. “I know she did. She tells me that almost everyday, but it sounds different when you say it.” Peter held your forearms still, gentle fingers holding you in place.
“But it means the same thing, Pete,” you said, eyes watching his reaction carefully. His eyes darted around the room, finally noting the eyes on the two of you.
His eyes widened again and he jumped back, only to exclaim, “I found the guy! I know where he lives!” This triggered you, causing you to stumble back as if he had pushed you. You would have fallen if it weren’t for the hard chest behind you. You almost jumped forward, thinking it was him.
“It’s Bucky,” Bucky mumbled, already knowing how you were going to react. It wasn’t the first time you were triggered and he knew it wouldn’t be the last.
The first time was a nightmare.
Bucky swore that he had never been more scared in his life when you screamed bloody murder. He shot up in his bed, already moving to wake you up from beside him. He tested the waters first, whispering your name when you cried out again in pain. His eyes filled with tears from the state you were in, but he quickly wiped them away, trying his best to keep his emotions at bay while he woke you up.
“Y/N?”
He repeated your name a bit louder. When you still didn’t wake up, he opted to touch your cheek lightly. He knew he was walking on thin ice when he did that, but he needed you to wake up from the nightmare; if he wasn’t able to change the past, he would at least make the present better. He pressed on your cheek and you shot up, already pushing Bucky away from you. Bucky backed up instantly, wanting you to never do that ever again. It made his heart drop to his stomach and his throat feel like it was burning.
“Y/N. Doll, it’s me,” he said, putting his hands up, hoping that you would see his harmless position. But you were looking through him like you had the day you ran from the madman. You kept backing yourself into the headboard, screaming at him to leave you alone. It was breaking his heart and tore another piece of him each time. The way you kept your hands out, to protect yourself, from him made his chest hurt with a new feeling.
He decided to hold your wrist with his left hand, the cool metal making you relax and blink a couple of times to grasp reality. You looked at Bucky, fresh tears making their way down your cheeks as you threw yourself at Bucky, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. He did what he could to soothe your sobs that night and promised to do so every time you needed him.
The second time was in the kitchen.
Bucky had not expected you to stress bake, but it seemed to be the one of the only things you would do in the tower—the other being visiting the library Tony had installed just for you. You wouldn’t even let Bucky leave you for more than five minutes—he didn’t mind it one bit—so when you couldn’t sleep, he decided to keep you company in the kitchen.
While you were shuffling around the stove, Bucky sat on the island stool after you insisted that you wanted to work alone. He watched you pour cake batter into the circular pan, tongue pushing on the inside of your cheek as you made sure not to spill any of the batter.
“Princess?”
The bowl slipped from your grasp, a sharp inhale and exhale from your lips, splattering the counter and wall in the batter. Bucky had shot up, aware of your irregular breathing. He stalked around the island, stopping a few feet away from you, putting his hands up so that you wouldn’t push him away. He took slow and steady steps towards you, his hands still up in surrender.
Your eyes darted up to him and he knew you weren’t seeing him. You moved back, crashing into the edge of the fridge before he could stop you. His heart knew you weren’t afraid of him, but he couldn’t help the drop in his stomach.
“Doll, it’s me,” he said gently, watching your reaction. “It’s Bucky, babydoll. James Bucky Barnes.”
Your eyes tear up and you finally realise where you were. You darted forward, initiating the first act of affection, and wrapped your arms around his neck. He slowly wrapped his metal arm around your middle and let his flesh hand tangle in your hair. You mumbled something into his neck, tears wetting his shirt—he couldn’t give a shit when his best girl had reacted so violently to a word. He was smart enough to know that Apollo must have called you that.
“I’m sorry,” your defeated and muffled voice said. Bucky tightened his grip on your waist, moving his right arm down as well so that you could look at him.
“Don’t ever apologise to me for something like this,” Bucky whispered, his heart on his sleeve as he looked into your eyes.
“Sam, Nat, and Wanda,” Steve stated, nodding at the three of them. “Go with Peter and get the guy.”
“We legally can’t bring him, Rogers,” Tony said, taking a sip of his now cold coffee.
“We have a reason to believe that he was behind the shooting at the Smithsonian,” Steve argued, placing a hand on his hip and the other on a chair. He shot Tony a hard glare, challenging him to argue with him.
Tony knew a challenge where he saw it. But this wasn’t a challenge he wanted to win. He glanced at you, just for a mere second, before nodding to Steve. “Right.” Steve seemed to be pleased with the answer, making a small gesture with his index and middle finger for Sam, Wanda, and Natasha to go.
———
“You okay, doll?” Bucky whispered, looking up at you from your lap. Your right hand continued to play with his hair, humming as you thought through the past few days.
“As good as I can be,” you mumbled, putting your book down, closing your eyes, and leaning into the backboard. You sighed as you felt Bucky’s arms wrap around your hips, planting a kiss on the palm of your left hand. He held it close to his chest, kissing your knuckles this time.
“Sergeant Barnes?” FRIDAY’s voice echoed through the room.
“Yes?” He groaned, letting his forehead fall to your thigh.
“Captain Rogers is waiting for you in the cells,” FRIDAY informed gently, adding to your suspicion that she was more of a real person than AI. “Apollo has been trialled and is leaving today to the Raft. Captain Rogers thinks it’ll be better if you see it yourself.”
Bucky nodded against your thigh and said, “Tell him I’m coming.”
“Okay.” With that FRIDAY’s voice was gone, leaving you and Bucky in silence.
“It’s been hectic, hasn’t it?” You asked, breaking the silence with a simple yet complicated question.
“Ya think, doll?” He teased, pressing another kiss on your knuckles, a smile against your skin.
“You know, when you called me babydoll that day? Or night?” You giggled at the thought. Bucky whipped his head towards you, but let his eyes wander around your face, waiting patiently for you to elaborate. “I liked it.”
“Oh. Really, babydoll?” He teased, moving to lay on his back so that he could look up at you. “‘Cause I love calling you babydoll.”
You giggled, biting your lip and scraping your nails on his scalp gently. “You should go.”
“Yeah, I should.” He made no move to get up so you stopped massaging his scalp and pulled on his shoulders to get him up. He followed your gesture, sighing as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. You gave him a lingering kiss on his temple.
“I—I want you to make sure Apollo leaves,” you muttered, voice quiet and cracking slightly. Bucky moved his head so that he could look right into your eyes. He knew that you wanted Apollo gone as fast as he could, having to see him at the trial. Luckily, it didn’t take more than a few words from Matt Murdock and a video of his actions. The trial was barely even an hour long and Matt made sure that you were spending the least amount of time in front of him.
Bucky cupped your cheek, his thumb swiping over your cheek. “I swear that I’ll never let him or anyone else hurt you ever again,” he whispered. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Jamie.”
You smiled at his excited grin, watching his eyes wander into your soul, finding out if you really loved him. When he found nothing but love, he leaned closer to you. He rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes and nudging your nose before gently kissing your lips.
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erodasfishtacos · 3 years
Note
Gang!harry - “I’ve never wanted to kill anyone more” so like angry sex 😏
THIS IS A VIBE THO.
warnings: rough, knife play, blood, dark language
-
“I’ve literally never wanted to kill anyone more than I want to kill you right now,” Harry grits out between clenched teeth.
YN was sitting carefree in their dining room, ankles crossed and propped on the table, “Then who’ll fuck you?”
“Any girl down in the London, they’d be more obedient, less mouthy, less of a fuckin’ brat,” Harry spits out at his wife, kicking over one of their chairs in frustration.
She doesn’t even flinch.
“I was thinking Chinese today? Some lo mein?” YN hums, picking at her nail beds as her husband fantasizes about all the different ways he can hurt her (sexually with consent of course).
Her nonchalant attitude has him coming up behind her and wrapping his hand in her hair, knotting it around his tattooed knuckles.
“I could slit your throat right now,” Harry hisses, other hand coming to slip out the blade he keeps in his pocket.
He runs it over her plump lips and he rolls his eyes when she moans loudly at it.
Bloody fucking pest.
But also he can’t figure out how he found someone so fucking perfect for him that was into everything he was.
“You’re too pussy-whipped to do that,” She laughs meanly, licking at the sharp metal and sneering at him when he nicks her lip.
His thumb coming to gather the blood and suck it into his mouth, “Y’know what you taste like?”
YN doesn’t respond, tight lipped.
He continues, “Y’taste like a fuckin’ brat.”
His wife makes her moves, trying to knock the knife out of his hand but he’s stronger and bit quicker than his clumsy love.
It ends her up in a headlock, his arm around her neck but the pressure is light and not even enough to have her light-headed.
“Could choke y’out right now,” Harry hums casually, tightening his hold for a second before he relieves the pressure again.
YN snorts, rolling her eyes, “You act like you didn’t cry when I walk down the aisle at our wedding.”
Harry huffs, releasing his hold on neck but grabbing her harshly by the hips to pull her bum back against where he’s hard as a rock.
“Had somethin’ in my eye,” He lies, hisses when she grinds back into him, massaging him just right where he needs it.
He lets her turn around in his grip, chest to chest, her mischievous eyes sparkling up at him, and he has to stop the teasing for a moment.
Tattooed hands find her jaw, pulling her in for a kiss that has her melting into his arms, and a light suckle on her tongue.
“Tell me you love me,” She demands expectantly.
“Love y’more than anythin’ on this earth, m’love,” Harry replies easily.
Harry has never told anybody he’s loved them beside his wife.
Never once.
It came easy to him, rolled off the tongue with the perfect, clumsy, bratty girl he decided on marrying a few years back.
YN takes the opportunity, quickly grabbing the knife off the table where her husband had placed it and trailing down his neck.
She gasps when he presses into it, letting it puncture the skin superficially, “Tha’s it, c’mon.”
“Shut up,” YN hisses through her teeth as Harry encourages her, a light trickle of blood dripping to pool at his collar bones.
“Sweetheart, stop being difficult and let me eat y’cunt,” Harry murmurs, his hand reaches out to cup her heat.
It distracts her enough for him to twist her wrist and gain the knife back.
He’s pushing her until her back hits the large dining room table. He’s roughly pushing up the skirt of her dress and using that knife to slice easily through the thin elastic of her thong.
Right before he fastens his mouth to her perfect center, he looks up at her cockily and says, “I always win, brat. Won you, won the fight, won this fucking cunt.”
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Text
The Perfect Life
Part Five 
Summary- 5.1k Dark!Steve x You x Dark!Bucky. You took your chances out in the sunflowers and Bucky still managed to find you. Now your caught in the super soldiers grasp and the barn is his destination to break you. Your sweet pleads can not dissuade him. 
Warnings- Non Con Theme, Orgasm Denial and Knife Use, Mentions of blood. This is an 18+ Blog.
Part 4 
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“Bucky, I will behave. Whatever you want.” You cried into his shoulder as you felt the barn's darkness swallow you whole. The last memories of this place where they broke you made you quake and shiver. Steve wrapping you in the ropes, Bucky running the blade over you while they both took their time breaking you in. 
No it can't happen again. 
“I- I can do what I did for Steve.” You offered as he swung you down onto a pile of straw on the barns floor. You twisted to pull yourself away, but he was quick to drag you back and shoved you onto your back, his weight holding you down, ignoring the pleading. 
“I know what you did for Steve.” Bucky said, his eyes cold as he snatched your wrists to yank above your head and lash a coil of rope around one, pulling it tight around them so you couldn't wriggle out of the bindings, but loose enough he could roll you from your back to your stomach. “And one day, I will see you on your knees swallowing my cock.” He sat back and gripped your chin, making you blink teary eyed up at him. “But when that happens it's because you want to. Not because you have to.” 
“Bucky I will never want to.” 
He studied you, again his touch gentle on your face as his face was a thunderous anger brimming in his greyish blue, resembling a summer storm just about to release. “You will be eating those words one day.” He shifted off your body and unbuttoned your jeans to yank them off, your flailing legs trying to kick at him but he was quicker to dodge flying feet and tossed your jeans away. Monsters didn’t care.
“Fuck you Bucky, you know this shit is wrong. What you two are doing to me.” Anger welling through you, knowing that your pleading wasn't going to make him stop. Nothing was going to make them stop. 
Bucky stretched one leg to the corner of the mattress and tilted your hip enough when you caught him in the chest, right where you had stabbed him with the tip of the knife. It made him hiss at the sting, bright white teeth snapping together as his mouth turned to a sneer while he bound one ankle hurriedly. His palm smacked harshly against your ass, digging his fingers in the flesh. “Same argument every time Doll. We’re mistreating you...” he let you flip back into place and wrapped the rope around your ankle. Making you spread eagle now on the mattress as he rose above you, admiring you all spread out for him. “... This is what you think of us, or me? Fine. Then that is how I will treat you.” He reached down to give a yank on your ropes to make sure you weren't going anywhere before he strode away, leaving you all alone. 
“Bucky... ? “ You called after him with a shaky voice, but he left you all alone in the dark barn. The soft coo of disturbed birds trilled above you in the hay loft and slivers of moonlight sliced through busted beams above, putting the whole place in shadows. 
And the shadows played with your mind, waiting for one of them to come out and claim you as before, this was a living nightmare, so if Steve showed back up suddenly, it really wouldn't surprise you. 
Just as helpless as before, your mind created devastating scenarios. Brutally being destroyed made you squirm more, the ropes rubbing wickedly in your wrists but never loosening. Of course you should have known better, Bucky would be an efficient knot maker. 
Your mouth felt dry, your body hyper aware of the slightest breeze going through the barn, the straw underneath you, the prickle of the old ropes in your wrists and ankles as well as the angle Bucky left you in. You did your best to calm yourself, whatever was coming you could handle. You hoped. 
He didn't leave you alone for too long, soon the door creaked and a twist of your head showed him striding back in. Having changed into a pair of loose grey sweats, bare chested and in his hand a silver flash of the kitchen knife you had brought with you. He must have gone back to retrieve it. 
“What are you going to do with that?” You asked, looking at him warily and trying to shift away from him as much as the ropes allowed. 
Bucky spared you a glance wriggling in distress on the hay pile , twisting your hands to tug at the ropes, panting slightly as your eyes glazed in fear and mistrust. “Whatever I want Y/N, because I’m a monster who just takes what I want without caring about others.” 
You rolled your body as he sank to his knees next to you, trying to avoid him, but he crowded into your space and felt the suffocation of his much larger body smothering yours into the scratchy straw. It prickled down your back and along the back of your thighs, making your skin crawl in the process. It would have been maddening if you weren't so focused on the man above you or the cold silver knife that you stupidly thought would keep you safe before. 
Now he was going to use it on you. 
Bucky twisted the flat of the blade to trail along your quivering stomach, your chest rising rapidly in your panic thinking that you were going to feel the knife press sharply to split you open. The blade was cool on your heated skin, ice cold to you that the steel of it felt like it was burning you. “Bucky don’t.” 
“Don’t what Doll? According to you, this is what I am.” He moved to straddle you, his heavier weight making you sink into the hay, trapping your thighs flat beneath him. His palm fell forward while he leaned forward, his eyes roving up your naked body, a storm cloud grey swirling pattern in his eyes while his pupils widened like a dark moon. “Monster, say it again.” The tip of the blade dragged between your cleavage to scrape your collarbone and up your neck, the tip pressing against your fluttering pulse below your neck. 
Your voice stuttered in your throat, cursing yourself for your attempt. Tears strained at the corner of your eyes as you arched your head back to strain away from the knife tip, but Bucky followed, always close enough for you to feel the pressure. 
But never close enough to actually split your skin apart, to feel the warm gush of your blood racing away. The threat was there though, a flick of his wrist could split you open. 
“Say it Doll, remind me of what I am.” He demanded again and that is when the words stuttered from you in defeat. 
“A monster Bucky, a monster. You and Steve both.” you sobbed out and he smirked cooly while dropping his head to drag his tongue over a taunt nipple, the blade threatening to press into your jugular so you couldn't move, couldn't even jolt in surprise. 
“A monster that is going to consume you.” He nipped at your nipple, making it sting enough so you let yourself choke on a sob. Sliding further down, his knife started to drag back down your chest, the tip welting your skin enough to scratch a faint line down your body. The only relief of that was the knife wasn’t pressed to your jugular, able to twist your head in just the tiniest big of freedom once more 
“Please don't Bucky…” 
“You don't get to ask for any favors Y/N.” He snapped with a slight bite to the flesh of your belly below your belly button. “You're mine to do what I want with.” His other hand, the whirl of mechanics gears cut through your harsh breathing whimpers and his grunts as he pressed his nose into the curls on your mound, inhaling your intimate scent deep into his lungs. The cool hand pressed your thighs open wider than they already were, dragging fingers through folds that were dry for now. 
You were too scared to be aroused at the way Bucky treated your body, his promising threats making you distracted. But he wasn't having that, the feel of his digits hurt as he chased that bud. 
“Can’t even get wet for me Doll? Make it easier on yourself?” He taunted as he arched his brow at you. You shook your head a moment to answer and shuddered when he spread your pussy folds apart, admiring the pink flesh for a moment before he spat on you, spreading through your warm core to lube you. 
“Shouldn't matter to me, your comfort.” He informed you while he went back to pressing his mouth close to your core, tendrils of his hair falling forward to pool against the top of your mound, tangling in the curls there. “I should just fuck you raw, right?” Pink tip of his tongue circled your clit, and this time the tiny little bud was starting to throb tenderly, your body did arch on its own accord and he let the knife follow your body's movements, not letting it cut at you.
“Bucky…” You gritted your teeth, hating that you even let it escape. He hummed against your clit, sending a jolt through your system while he suckled and kissed your clit, the sharp tip of the knife sinking slightly into your skin near your hip, dragging down to make a red welt, tiny beads of blood welling up. 
You didn't even notice the slight sting as he flattened his tongue, lapping at your clit in quick flicks. His eyes lifted knowing, watching the heave of your breasts as you tried breathing in deep enough to keep your calm. “Taste so good, I might just stay here all day Doll. Eat you out as long as I want.” Another drag of his tongue through your folds was followed by two quick nicks of the knife tip to your hip, slightly deeper than before, the pleasure of his tongue lapping through your cunt was matched with the stinging sharpness on your hip, both distracting as to what was going on.  
“Wh-what are you doing to me Bucky?” You asked with a watery quiver and he buried his face into your cunt, tossing the knife far enough away that you couldn't reach it and grabbing your hips to stop your squirming, which made you go mindless. 
The sound was downright filthy, his grunts and groans followed with messy sucks and kisses fucking you on his tongue till you were so close, his nose bumping against your clit to keep you rubbing your cunt into his face, wanting more, needing more. 
You were SO CLOSE. 
Clenching on his tongue and your mindless pleases uttered above him, he quickly yanked away just before you crested. Lifting your head with arousal blown pupils, you rocked your hip, trying to get him to put his mouth on you again. But he sat back, the lower half of his face glistening with you. 
His gaze still cold seeing you withering in the hay. “Bucky, please.” 
“You tried to leave Y/N, you don’t deserve to cum. You have to earn that.” He leaned over and was sure to kiss you, full of tongue and teeth so he could spread your taste through your mouth while you were left not reaching any satisfaction, still trying to find your release and wanting to cry for not getting it. 
“Are you leaving me here Bucky?” you whined out when he pulled away, spreading your folds to tease you just a little, the slightest touch making your lids flutter but he yet again never let it get further than that. “That's what heartless fuckers do Y/N, you can stay in the barn.” He pushed to a stand. “My mark though… looks good on you.” Your gaze dropped to your hip, that was really stinging now. You saw streaks of blood welting around a B. 
“You cut me?” You cried out, struggling in your bindings. Bucky gave a nod while going to collect the knife. 
“I marked you Doll. A reminder of who owns you.” He softly said over his shoulder as he headed for the door and left you to lay there, body aching in more ways than one. 
You were back to being helpless and you screamed in absolute frantic frustration, cursing them with everything you could think of and sobbing uncontrollably until you felt like your body was drained of every last drop you had left to offer. 
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Bucky went back into the house. The cold house, it felt empty without your presence in there. His hand shook slightly holding the knife you took from the butcher's block and he tossed it loudly into the sink, little droplets of your blood whisking along the steel harshness and down the drain. 
“A few days out there will remind her.” He muttered to himself, trying to justify his actions. Still he could taste your sweetness on his lips with a dart of his tongue collecting, and a raging hard on in his sweats. It was hard not to fuck you in the hay, to keep you clenching there in heated agony with denial. 
This wasn't what he nor Steve wanted, hell he wanted more of what you two had the day before, lazy days of reading and then cooking for one another. Tiredly he climbed the stairs, heading for a cool shower and jerked off in the shower. Steve had told him that it might take a while till they could convince you that you were right where you belonged. 
Bucky hated this, hated having to break you. But he was good at it. He could be patient. It would be worth it in the end. 
Cold water streamed over his steaming body as he fisted his erection, palm slapping against the shower wall as he pictured you so willingly on your knees, smiling up at him with want. 
One day. 
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How much can a person take till they break? It was a question you were going to find out, as Bucky was set on edging you over and over for days, every time you thought you were able to control that one thing, he proved you wrong. Your body responded to him, each and every time he descended on you, betraying you in the most mindless way. Your muscles screamed in the restraints, wanting to fold on yourself till you were small as possible to combat the fluttering flame that made your lower belly clench now at just the sight of him. 
Your tears, your pleas, did nothing to stop him. Every time he would end it with a clashing kiss and whispered reminder that you were there to do as they wanted, you had no choice. The sooner you submit to that, the better your life would be.  
“You said it yourself Doll, we do what we want, we are monsters.” and he would fit a vibrator against your cunt, taking out a small remote. Even when he wasn't there, he could be in control of you. 
“No, no Bucky, I was wrong.” You tried apologizing to him, dreading the added torture of the vibrator. Bucky just seemed to know you had relaxed and the vibrations would start like a gentle lull in your core, to edge it up slowly, hours of it till your body gave out. 
He knew you were lying to him, trying to find mercy. 
After you felt like you really couldn't take it anymore, you tried to bargain with him. Eyes pleading as you looked up at him. “I promise I can be good, your good girl. You will be so proud of me, please Bucky.” Your voice was so timid, so sweet, so soft. You were giving in to him. 
It almost broke the man, his hands lingering at the ties holding you in place, but his forehead dipped to yours and pressed his lips to yours. He felt you surge, so accepting of it that it gave him hope. 
“Soon Doll… you are almost there.” his fingers curled in you, stroking your fluttering walls till he once more pulled away. 
You were close, so close, so close you thought as your tired wrung out body tensed once more, wanting to crash and held on the edge, denied of pleasure and drained of the will to fight.
Now and then you would fall into fitful sleep, when your body gave out and you sunk into nothing. But it never lasted all that long, always being on edge. You were jerked awake once more by the creak of the door and you expected to see Bucky come back for the sweet torture of your body. 
But it wasn't your dark Bucky coming, no it was golden hair and blue eyed storm, massive as his boots thudded against the old dusty boards of the floor stalking towards you. 
Steve must have just come home because his suit was looking worn for days, his beard a bit more rugged, grown out. He squatted next to you, tracing a finger down your quivering belly where you rolled slightly under his touch, panting slightly as the vibrations started humming through you, Bucky had turned the vibrator back on.
“Oh Sweetheart, do you know how disappointed I am to hear you misbehaved?” Steve tutted as he circled your belly button, pressing a hand against your mound to make the vibrations more intense. 
“I was bad, but I learned, I swear Steve. Let me show Bucky I can be good.” You squirm with a whine. “Just make it stop.” 
He tilted his head, his eyes roving up and down your sweat streaked body, quivering in your restraints. His gaze stopped at the B that had now scarred into your hip, his hand sliding to cover it, his thumb tracing the loops that made up the letter. His jaw clenched slightly, fingers digging into your hip possessively before he pushed to a stand
A sob broke when you thought he was going to leave you laying there but he leaned over you with taunting sush, his fingers worked on the ties. “Hush now Sweetheart, I just came back, you really think I’m leaving you here all alone.” he directed and the ties fell loose, your arms dropping that made you scream at the sudden release. Your muscles having been long stretched in your restraints were burning in relief at being loose, you curled into a fetal position to get rid of the vibrating toy, gasping in relief when you were finally free from it all. Soon your ankles were released and Steve reached down to scoop you into his arms. 
“Promise to behave right Sweetheart?” 
“Yes, please Steve just take me out of here.” You pulled in closer to him, your arms circling his neck and closing your eyes to hide your face against his shoulder. While carrying you out, Steve gave a pleased smile. 
Maybe they finally have you where they want you. Compliant, the perfect housewife. 
Steve brought you into the quiet house and right up the stairs towards your yellow sunflower bedroom. He set you down in front of the bathroom door, nodding towards the over sized shower. “Go start the water and I will be right there.” You give a nod, immediately obeying what he told you to do. 
Steve watched as you carefully walked away from him, sure you were steady on your feet and started to undress from his midnight blue stealth suit. The rush of water sounded off the porcelain tub and a whisk of the curtain told him you were waiting for him. Fisting his hand on his cock a moment to control the throbbing, seeing you all subdued spread eagle in the hay had gotten him worked up, but even more was Bucky's mark on you. You belonged to both of them, seeing you with Bucky's signature, well that made a part of him feral. Needing to lay a claim on you. 
Following you into the tub, he found you standing under the hot spray, head tilted back as it ran rivers down your body, swirling at your feet to escape down the drain. Your skin was turning pink from the heat and Steve reached for your hips, pulling you back into him where he rutted slightly against your plump ass while he brushed his chin against your shoulder. 
The scratch made you inhale sharply, a slight whine rising from the back of your throat. You were so sensitive that your body still ached. “Steve…” 
“Mmhh, you are going to be a good girl for me, I have been gone a long time.” His hands roamed up your body to cover your breasts, kneading and rolling his fingers against your nipples, pulling expertly. “And I know Bucky left you so close, but never quite able to cum, right Sweetheart?” His tone gruff in that way that made you take notice, your body tensing for him; thighs clenching, pussy weeping, breathing coming in pants. He pulled a bit harder when you didn't answer right away. 
“Y-yes Steve.” 
He hummed a bit, turning you to face him, backing you to the wall and pining you between him and the cool tiles. “I’ve missed you, a lot. Missed that sweet mouth of yours.” A kiss pressed to your lips, a swipe of tongue insisting to claim you. Steve didn't give you a choice, he never did. He deepened the kiss and crushed himself into you as his hands grasped your hips and pushed you roughly up to wrap your legs around him, his cock hard between you, pressing heated into your belly. “That image of you on your knees with your lips spread on my cock got me through the nights I was away. I know that sweet cunt is ready for me.” He growled into your mouth as he spread your ass cheeks apart and rutted his hips. “I can just smell how aroused you are.” Steve didn't even try to take it easy when he filled you with a jarring thrust. 
As on edge as you had been for days, the stretch of him burned, made you cry out in a yelp but he bit your lip, sucking the air from you to swallow your cry while he thrusted into you, bottoming himself. “Don't fight this Baby, be my good girl.” 
You nodded harshly in agreement, already your swollen aroused walls squeezing around him, seeking that long denied satisfaction, you grabbed at his back, digging in your nails to hold on as his thrusts pounded into you, each one a powerful breaking force that left you going mindless. Burying your head into his shoulder with sobs of his name, Steve was efficient.
He had fucked you enough times to know what spots made you really break apart. You used to fight against it, prevent that cresting moment that gave him the satisfaction in knowing he owned your ass. 
You didn't even try this time. You squeezed around his driving cock, clawed at his upper back and mixed tears with the water raining down from above you, making your bodies sticky and slippery all at once, hair plastered to your heads. One hand to your hip, his other wrenched your head back, baring his teeth as he grunted with each movement, drops of water catching in his lashes, drizzling down to escape into his darker beard. 
Your own eyes rolled back in your head, your voice breaking with a cry of his name as you creamed around him, your body locking and he smirked with a kiss, fierce, dominating. 
No way he was done with you. 
Pulling out, he dropped you to your feet, easily holding onto you to keep you from falling when he twisted you, your face twisted against the shower tiles and his broad hairy chest pressing into your back as he smacked your ass with his palm, hard enough for you to plead out. 
“Fuck Steve, finish it.” 
“I will when I'm good and ready. Your body is so fucking ready that it will take me however many times I want you, drip my cum from your sweet little pussy all fucking night, because you. are. mine.” he was sure to make his point, his palm tapping against your ass sharply with each word, leaving your skin stinging fiercly. 
You groaned, but did not fight him. They made it clear, you were theirs. His hands wrapped around your hips, his fingers so easily finding that B that was carved into you and digging in harshly. Dropping his head close. “Bucky might have marked you, but you will never forget me once you swell up with my child.” 
And he pulled your hips out, thrusting his cock back into you. You arched your back at the impact with a fatal moan, the moan that made Steve lose it. 
He fucked into you like a man desperate, hips slamming into your ass and his body caged around yours, keeping you pressed into his chest as his mouth worked on your neck and shoulders. One hand kept a hold on your hip, holding you in place while the other roamed your chest, squeezing your tits and pressing onto your stomach. When a hand found a way between your thighs, you broke. 
You felt yourself sag as you came crashing again, and Steve filled you with his seed this time. Sure to pump himself in you over and over even after the hot spurts deep in your clenching core stopped and he panted against your shoulder, finally going still. “Can’t have you lose any Sweetheart.” 
Your eyes squeezed shut as you did your best from losing it entirely, this was your life. You could either fight it and live in some form of torture, or accept it for what it has become. 
Pulling out, he grabbed some soap and suds his hand to run over your body. Compliant, you moved the way he wanted you to, holding onto him to keep your balance. Turning you around to do your back, he mentioned out loud. “You are awful quiet Sweetheart.” 
You tilted your head into the water and stepped away to rinse off, moving aside so he could finish himself. 
“Sorry Steve, what would you like me to say?” 
He hummed as he scrubbed at himself in the shower before he tilted his head. “How about you are happy to see me? I might actually have a surprise for you. Bucky and I both do.” He cranked off the water and stepped out, drying himself rather quickly and wrapped a towel around his hips. As you climbed out, he held out an over sized towel for you to step into, moving down your back and he knelt in front of you, rubbing the back of your thighs and along the inside. 
His fingers followed droplets paths to catch, his lips pressing against your belly, while looking up. “You are beautiful, and will be more so when you are all swollen.” 
It was something you certainly could wait for. Your hands braced back against the sink to keep your balance once more, still feeling weak. In an attempt to change the subject, you looked down at him. 
“You said you had a surprise for me?” He grinned up at you before giving one last kiss to your belly before going to a stand and wrapping you in the towel. 
“It's in my bedroom with Bucky waiting for you.” he directed, gently making you continue when you paused to get dressed in your room. Clutching the towel tighter, you padded down the couple doors towards his bedroom. His door was shut so you waited in front of it while Steve’s oversized palm pressed against it, swinging it open. 
You first saw Bucky, sitting cross legged in the center of the bed. Loud purrs emitted from his lap and your eyes dropped to your curled up cat, sleeping on him with loud purrs, flicks of her tail showing her content. 
“You… you went and got my girl?” Your eyes welled up in surprise, Steve bracing his hands gently against your shoulders to lead you to the bed. 
Bucky looked up from under strands of his hair having fallen forward as he was looking down at your Suga, his fingers grazing through her fur so gently. 
You rushed to kneel on the bed, your hand quivering to reach out and pet her, but then yanked it away, looking between Bucky and Steve for permission. “Go ahead Doll.” Bucky reached out to grasp your chin and make you look at him with a smile. “You earned it.” 
You took this gift, reaching forward to wrap your hands around your cat and lifted her into your arms, pressing your face into her familiar soft fur as she squirmed a bit to get comfortable and then started head butting you with happy meows and kitten licks on your nose and forehead. 
“Where, when... How did you guys get her?” you asked incredulously at this gift. You eased her down onto the bed, while she started to clean herself and settled back down between you and Bucky. 
Bucky nodded over towards Steve who had made his way to his closet and was getting dressed. “Steve picked her up.” 
“On my way back, I swung by your apartment complex. We had all your stuff packed Y/N and put in storage. Your cat was being taken care of till I was able to go collect her.” 
You couldn't help the soft smile at seeing your baby, your fingers scratching just under her chin, taking a shuddering breath. 
“Thank you Steve, Thank you Bucky.” and both the men rumbled a ‘You’re welcome’ back. 
Part of you was so happy to see your cat, but part of you, the part that was desperate, felt your situation just get that much more desolate. 
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It was hours later when Steve checked in on you back in your room, you were curled with your cat on your bedspread, sound asleep for probably the first time in several days. Carefully he closed the door so you could continue sleeping, turning away to go back downstairs where Bucky was to fill him in on his mission. 
As Steve heavily made his way down the stairs, he couldn't hold himself back. “So thought you should just mark our girl?” 
Bucky, who was sprawled on a corner of the couch, book wedged in his hand, he never bothered pausing from his reading. “Can’t be letting her forget who owns her. My method worked didn't it? She was compliant for you, and gave you just what you wanted without a fight. In fact, wasn’t she a bit happy to see you Steve?” 
“She did-” 
“Then you are welcome.” The soldier cut off his friend, flipping the page. Steve’s brows furrowed a bit but let it drop, making his way to the office he had set up in the back of the house, behind a locked door. 
Upstairs your eyes sprang open as soon as Steve shut your door, letting out a relieved whoosh that you were being left along, your body still so sensitive to touch of any kind. Suga shifted closer with a soft meow, head butting you. You scooped her closer, once more burying your face into your cat's soft fur and letting it keep you quiet while a sob broke in your chest, muffling the sound. 
You can’t live like this and you were running out of time before they actually did make you pregnant. 
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heyhoneyybunn · 3 years
Text
| LITTLE GAME |
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Relationship: Mafia!Iwaizumi Hajime x f!Reader
Warnings: established relationship, use of a weapon, manhandling but reader is fine with it.
See more mafia content here
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There was a shuffle in your vacant house. Red dress swooshing around your legs, you grabbed the knife you had hidden in the kitchen. Raising your hands and turning to the direction of the noise, you aimed the dagger ready to launch it, but a voice stops you.
“Hello darling,” the familiar voice voice gently wraps around you, as you rapidly hit the light switch, light flooding in and presenting Iwaizumi Hajime, sitting in your crappy apartment, legs crossed as if he had been waiting for you.
Hands still raised, you managed to whisper, “How did you find me?”
“Don’t you know already?” He spoke lowly, slowly making his way to his feet, walking towards you with the grace of a predator, “You can’t run from me.”
He herded you against the door, as he held the wrist of your hand holding the sharp object. Through a surge of power you pushed through his hold to raise the blade against his neck, skin scraping against the metal every time he swallowed.
His eyes darkened, as he leaned down, laying a kiss on your wrist. Your grip loosened as the dagger clattered to the floor. Your heart racing deliciously as you gazed at him through sultry lashes.
“I don’t want you here, I hate you,” you told him, trying to inject lethal venom into your voice, to hurt him, the way his words had hurt you before you left.
“Don’t lie to me darling, you like playing this game of cat and mouse. You were waiting for me to find you, to bring you back home.”
“I’m not leaving this place and you can’t make me,” you set your foot down, ready to turn away to make him chase you more.
“Still playing coy? Fine, I’ll play your little game.”
He squared his shoulders before hauling you over them, pounding against his back with as much force you could muster.
“Put me down immediately!” You shouted as he made his way to his car.
“I’ll let you go as soon as we get home, where I can show you who you belong to,” he turned slightly to look at you, smirking, “until then, sit tight.”
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A/n: Thinking of expanding this and turning it into a proper fic. Also my first small drabble :)
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